Bahahaha…sorry about the typos and stuff in that last chapter. I wrote it really fast and didn't check it over because I wanted to get it out before I went out to dinner. Like…horse = hoarse. :P Oh, and a few people have been wondering about Icefang's personality switches. Don't worry, I've realized that she switches from nice enough to coldhearted and cruel. I'm still working out some things with her character, but the basics are this: she's not evil, but she is a villain. She's ambitious and will do anything to get what she wants, but she's not a murderer, or at least she doesn't want to be. And she loves her Clan, more than her own life. She just…has a different way of viewing love than most people :\.
Sorry for the late update, btw, I've been a vacation! :D
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Ferns rustled as Icefang padded through the shadows of the forest. Beside her, Robinwing's head hung, her whiskers and tail drooping. The she-cat's amber eyes were trained mournfully on the blackened earth.
"Here," someone murmured from the darkness. Both warriors lifted their heads. Brightpool was standing solemnly by the charred remains of the fallen birch tree. The rest of the cats who had come to share tongues with Tanglethorn circled around her, and around the body of the deputy, which was barely recognizable amid the ashes.
Icefang hung back while Robinwing stepped forward to crouch before her father. The white she-cat hadn't really come to say goodbye to the deputy – after all, it was her fault that he was dead, or as much as it could be anybody's fault.
The lean shape of Cinderstar appeared in front of the crowd, throne into relief by the flat light. His eyes glimmered as he gazed down at the drift of gray flakes piled against the log's side, underneath which the body of Tanglethorn was concealed.
"Tanglethorn was a good cat. He served his Clan well, and we were friends for more years than I can count. Let StarClan honor his spirit as he walks his last night in the forest," Cinderstar murmured, his voice carrying smoothly over the crowd.
A hush fell over the cats while Cinderstar stepped down from the log and placed his paws beside the pile of ash, bending down so that his nose barely touched the earth. A few moments later, Robinwing joined him, followed by Brightpool, Tanglethorn's sister, Eaglepaw, his apprentice, and Leafspots, who had also been mentored by him.
The ceremony went on well into the night. Icefang huddled under the shelter of the ferns, only a few sporadic thoughts streaming through her tired mind. There were innumerable worries that she should be addressing, plans for the future that needed to be worked, even plans for the next day that were looming as the moon inched its way overhead. However, the warrior was content to just sit where she was and think about nothing. It was warm enough in the undergrowth, and the air of reverence permeating the clearing was somehow comforting.
As soon as the very first tinges of pale blue light stained the treetops, Cinderstar lifted his head. A stir went through the group, and one by one the rest of the cats woke from their reveries, stretching and shaking their pelts.
"His body will be left to the forest," Cinderstar declared as soon as everyone seemed alert. A mumbled gasp of disapproval rose from one or two cats, but no one spoke against his decision. Though it was customary for the elders to carry the fallen warrior to a grave outside the camp, Icefang thought it somehow fitting that his body be allowed to integrate into the ashes where he had breathed his last breath. Not to mention that no cat particularly wanted to return to camp bearing his body, when they didn't know what they would find.
Back at the hollow, a hunting party had already been sent out, and there was a small pile of still-warm fresh kill awaiting the mourners. They were greeted with murmured condolences, but most cats had already decided to look ahead instead of dwelling on the past, determined to make the best of the situation as ThunderClan cats always were. Icefang stared at her Clan with a sweet sense of pride – the elders were calming the kits while their mothers munched on fresh kill or helped Shortwhisker and Sparrowtail as they distributed healing herbs. Warriors bustled to and fro, safeguarding the hollow with trails of bramble or bringing fresh kill. Oakshadow, having already assumed his duties and taking them very seriously, was stomping around the camp surveying the work and lending a paw to those who asked for it.
As soon as Cinderstar and the others appeared, the hustle immediately came to an abrupt end. All eyes turned to watch as the leader padded to the rim of the hollow and opened his mouth to speak.
"Tanglethorn's spirit has been accepted into the ranks of our warrior ancestors, as well as that of young Poppykit. They now hunt in the endless green forests of StarClan."
Halfhearted mews and yelps of assent rose from the watching cats, but nothing too enthusiastic. Icefang felt Robinwing shiver beside her, and turned to lick her friends' ear gently. The she-cat flinched away, her eyes downcast.
"Despite these tragic events, and the horror that has befallen our Clan and our home, ThunderClan will persevere." His eyes flickered from cat to cat, first resting on Specklefoot, whose remaining two kits were curled securely in the curve of her belly, then Oakshadow, who watched the speech with a stone expression, his eyes full of determination, and then suddenly to Icefang. Their gaze met for a long moment, but Icefang resolved not to look away. She held her ground and let Cinderstar's piercing eyes bore into her. He might be able to peel back the first layer of her soul, maybe find the insecure, uncertain she-cat underneath, but she knew that no cat could dig beneath this fabricated outer shell. Her ice-and-fire core was as hidden from world as the deepest secrets of StarClan.
Cinderstar blinked and looked away, continuing. Icefang couldn't help the feeling of smug satisfaction that burned her paws. She was completely and entirely alone, on a level above every other cat that belonged wholly to her. Here, on her frigid dais she was queen - she was leader.
"Eaglepaw is without a mentor," Cinderstar meowed. The golden tabby's head snapped up, and Icefang watched breathlessly as the apprentice blinked in surprise. Maybe, just maybe, this is my chance, she thought eagerly to herself. Maybe Cinderstar has seen how valuable I can be to my Clan!
"Brightpool. Though you have recently finished mentoring Tansyleaf, your skills as a mentor have not gone unnoticed. You will take over Eaglepaw's training, and I trust that the spirit of Tanglethorn will live through you in this endeavor."
The ginger tabby she-cat rose to her paws and strode out of the crowd, her face betraying her utter surprise. It seemed that Cinderstar has made a split second decision about Eaglepaw's mentor, without consulting the she-cat first. Briefly Icefang wondered if Brightpool would end up having kits or something and she herself might take over the training anyway, but it seemed farfetched.
"Thank you Cinderstar. I am honored," murmured the tabby warrior. She bent forward and touched noses with Eaglepaw, who looked slightly disappointed. Going from Tanglethorn to Brightpool as a mentor was like going from a juicy rabbit to a scrawny lizard in Icefang's opinion.
"And now, I feel that we have waited long enough. The fire has burned out – Ashfoot confirmed that a moment ago. I would like every warrior strong enough to walk to accompany me back to the camp. Wait – Whitefoot and Yellowpaw, stay here, and if any danger comes, Yellowpaw, you run to find us as if your life depends on it."
The apprentice nodded. The rest of the cats got to their feet and watched expectantly as Cinderstar padded towards the forest. Oakshadow bounded forward and waved his tail for the warriors to follow. Drawing in a deep breath, Icefang loped after him, her paws kicking up puffs of ash. No one knew what horror would await them – maybe the hungry flames had spared the camp, and maybe not a twig had been left untouched.
As the sun rose and illuminated the forest around them, Icefang's pelt grew suddenly cold. It was not from a thought or a shocking idea, but from a commonplace gust of wind. However, every cat froze in their tracks, their ears swiveling in panic - because on that one breeze, as brisk and bitter as the coldest ice, came the sickening taste of leafbare.