CHAPTER THREE
Thickfur should have known that something was wrong. He could sense it as soon as he woke, a pervasive feeling of unease, but he pushed it aside. He was a cat who believed only in what he could see before him, what he could scent, what he felt underneath his paws. The tom was a staunch believer in the real, and if Dawnpaw hadn't completely shaken up his views four moons ago, he would have been content to let this feeling slide completely from his mind.
As it was, he let it linger in the back, bottling it up behind walls and walls. That was where most of his feelings went; memories, flashes of raw emotion, vulnerability. Thickfur kept them all contained, especially the memories. He never let himself pull them out, but they were always there, ghosts and spectres that tugged at the back of his mind, whispering accusations. They hadn't bothered him for moons. Now, with Dawnpaw's revelation, they were back.
It was a cold, snowy day, and he knew that his apprentice was likely still curled in her nest, trying to ignore the world around her. He had become slightly more fond of the she-cat, though she was still unbearably frail and meek at times. It would take hard words to strengthen her shell; he knew that, Slatestar knew that, but the logic had never occurred to Dawnpaw, and she had seen fit to hate him instead. They had reached an unspoken agreement, however, and their sessions had become almost pleasant.
Thickfur had to respect her after what had happened with Branchpaw. It had been very brave of her to go after her brother, though in retrospect, it had been a dangerous idea and he should have stopped her. The two had never spoken about the events of that day. Both of them knew that he had lied to Slatestar, but it was a forbidden topic between them. Yet still it hung in the air, heavy and thick.
It was the same regarding her mind-link with Sootclaw. He didn't dare bring it up – he didn't want to believe it – but Thickfur knew that it was real. Still, he pretended that it wasn't, and they never spoke of it, something for which he was glad. Sometimes, whenever he found her alone, he wondered if she was talking to the ShadowClan warrior. Then he immediately banished the thought from his mind and barked out a gruff order. She would look up at him with eyes full of hurt or anger, or however she was feeling that day, but Thickfur didn't care. He had job to do.
The warrior was wrong – she wasn't in her den. Thickfur found her in the middle of camp, her pelt speckled with snow. The ginger she-cat was half-heartedly picking at a scrawny starling. Dawnpaw had become skinnier with leafbare, her ribs beginning to show underneath her thin pelt. In contrast, Thickfur hardly felt the cold. He was protected by layers of muscle hidden beneath his woolly fur.
"Either eat it or don't," he mewed harshly. Dawnpaw looked up, startled, her amber eyes wide with apprehension. Then something changed in her gaze and a shield slid over her eyes.
"Yes, Thickfur," she replied, getting to her paws. "I'll just bring the rest to the nursery, then. Breezekit and Mothkit need all the food they can get."
Thickfur nodded, pleased. Auburnfur's kits were getting bigger every day. "See to it," he said. "And be quick."
Dawnpaw scrambled off, clutching the starling in her mouth. Thickfur didn't bother following her to the nursery – he knew what he would find there. Mothkit would be bounding around, Breezekit would be huddling quietly in the corner, and Limekit would be trying to engage both of them in a play session. Thickfur still hadn't come to terms with being an uncle. He and Kitetail were the only ones who knew the truth of Limekit's parentage, and the grey tabby knew that it had shaken Kitetail quite deeply.
Still, Limekit was a good kit, and nothing like his father. He was young and cheerful, as well as naturally inquisitive, but Kitetail kept a close eye on him all the same. There was always the worry that Limekit would start playing rough, that he would display traits like those of his father. Thickfur could only hope that Limekit would never know the truth about Falconswoop. Something like that could ruin his life.
Dawnpaw came trotting back out, looking more eager than she had moments ago. Pleased once more with her change in demeanour, Thickfur signalled her to follow as he leapt up the trail out of camp. Snow crunched under their paws as they entered the forest. Above them, elms and oaks stood bare as skeletons against the grey sky.
The air was cold and heavy with the scent of the woods. Bark and mouse and mud came together to make a musky and familiar tang in his mouth. Around them, Thickfur could hear the sound of birds, but their songs were faint and brittle. Snowflakes dotted his pelt, melting almost as soon as they touched the warm skin underneath. Beside him, Dawnpaw walked with her head up, taking in the sights of the forest.
"Stop," he commanded, once they were a fair distance away from camp.
Dawnpaw did as she was told. "What?"
Thickfur forced himself to tense up. "Did you hear that?" he asked in a hiss.
Her eyes widened and the fur on her neck began to fluff up. "Thickfur, what's going on?"
He lunged forward, knocking her down into the snow. Dawnpaw struggled, but he kept his paw on the back of her shoulders, holding her in the bank. Eventually, the she-cat went limp. Thickfur grunted and stepped backward, removing the pressure from her back.
The ginger she-cat struggled back to her paws, spitting out a mouthful of snow. Emotions ran behind her eyes, anger and pain and humiliation. She hated him in that instant, he knew that. He hated himself too, just a little bit. This was what she needed. One day, she would realize that he was just doing his duty as mentor, and until that day came, he wouldn't cater to her feelings.
"That wasn't fair," she managed, voice hitching in the middle. She was mad. Thickfur had expected that. Their relationship seemed to run in cycles: they were at odds, then they reconciled, they trained well, and then he would betray her trust all over again. Thickfur needed to keep her on her toes.
I care about you, he thought. You'll make a great warrior. But he couldn't tell her that, so he just sneered. "You should have been paying more attention."
"I had no reason to expect you would attack me!" Dawnpaw protested.
"Always expect the unexpected," Thickfur said, and then lunged at her again. This time, Dawnpaw was faster. She leapt to the side and pivoted on her hind legs, meaning to strike at him as he came back up. But Thickfur changed direction immediately as he landed, ducking underneath her attack, and coming up to hit her in the chest. Dawnpaw stumbled backward and landed on her backside in the snow.
Thickfur came to a stop, panting. "Mediocre. Are you alright?"
"Yes," said Dawnpaw, rising to her feet. Thickfur was relieved to see that she had no injuries. He had made sure to choose a patch of softer snow, with no branches or stones peeking out, though he doubted she was grateful or even aware of that. Still, she was fine.
And then she wasn't.
Dawnpaw fell to the ground, limbs giving out beneath her body like they were made of sand. She lay there, legs splayed, eyes rolled back into her skull. Thickfur could only stand there, heart seized by a horrible, terrifying panic. Cold washed through his body. Nothing made sense. He touched his nose to her shoulder. "Dawnpaw?"
She was still breathing, at least. The thought didn't relax Thickfur at all. He nudged her again, harder this time. "Dawnpaw!" But there was no response, so he called her name again. Then a fourth time, and then a fifth, until his words were just wails, lost in the wind.
A thought struck him. Kitetail.
Thickfur opened his mouth and scented the air. If he was lucky, some of his Clanmates would be nearby. They could help him carry Dawnpaw back to the medicine cat's den. He tasted three different cats, their scents strong and heavy – they were close. "Larchstripe!" he yowled. "Elmheart! Galepaw!"
Galepaw emerged from the bushes first, looking nearly a ghost as he stood in the snow, his white pelt blending in with the forest around him. Larchstripe and Elmheart came after, their eyes wide. It was Larchstripe who spoke first. "Thickfur. What is it?"
He had no idea how to respond. "It's Dawnpaw," he managed to say. "She fainted."
Galepaw looked shocked. The young tom ran forward to nose his friend's body. From what Thickfur knew of the drama in the Clan, the two apprentices had become quite close recently. The part of him that cared was glad; Galepaw was shaping up to be a fine apprentice, and Dawnpaw could learn a lot from his attitude.
Larchstripe nodded swiftly. "Galepaw, run back to camp. Tell Kitetail to meet us as we return. Elmheart, Thickfur, you'll help me carry her back." Galepaw nodded and took off through the frost-covered woods.
"Carry her back how?" asked Elmheart quietly. Thickfur appraised the golden tom. He and Dawnpaw had been distant lately, and though Thickfur didn't care to know why, he wanted to be sure he could trust Elmheart to carry her back safely.
Thickfur looked over at Larchstripe. "Grab her by the scruff of her neck and haul her over my back. The three of us can support her. Elmheart, you'll take my left, Larchstripe, my right."
The silver she-cat did as he commanded, pulling Dawnpaw up over Thickfur's bulky frame. When she was laid horizontally over his shoulders, he shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Silently, Elmheart and Larchstripe sidled against him, each helping him to support the apprentice across his back.
"Let's go," he said quietly.
"From this moment until she earns her warrior name, this apprentice shall be known as Dawnpaw. Thickfur, you will be mentor to Dawnpaw. You are a strong and loyal warrior, and I trust you will pass on your knowledge to your new apprentice." Slatestar's voice boomed out over the clearing.
Thickfur shifted uncomfortably. His skin was crawling, and not just from the greenleaf heat. He wasn't sure that Slatestar had made the right decision. Was he ready to be a mentor? But it didn't matter. The tom had a duty to this new apprentice, and he wouldn't let her down.
Dawnpaw approached him and as they touched noses, Thickfur could see the apprehension in her eyes. He smiled, trying to ease her nerves. It was the one mercy he could allow her; the one act of kindness before this trial started. "It'll be okay," he promised, and in her frightened amber eyes, he saw that she believed him.
Walking with Dawnpaw slung over their backs was the easy part. The hard part was the silence. Thickfur didn't mind silence – he craved it, relished in it, dreamt of it – but he could tell that the others were anxious, and it made the space between them stifling.
"What happened before...?" The words came tumbling from Elmheart's mouth as if he had spent the last few minutes desperately trying to hold them in. The look in his eyes suggested he wished he could take them back. Thickfur knew that he had that effect on cats. They all thought they knew him: angry and arrogant and with no tolerance for disobedience. He had to give them credit – it was mostly true.
Thickfur shrugged. "We were doing battle training. She was fine. Then she fell." He didn't care enough about Elmheart to give him the rest of the details. The golden-brown tom had turned into a respectable warrior, and he had thankfully grown more solemn since his apprentice days, but he still had a long way to go before he had proved himself.
"Dawnpaw, move away from there!" he barked, irritated, but she didn't hear him. The ginger she-cat was stumbling backwards into a slick patch of mud. Once wrong step, and she would slip. For a second, he let himself wonder if she was really in pain, but then dismissed the thought. Her flank was fine.
She cried out and fall back, and before he knew what he was doing, Thickfur was bounding past her, trying to reach the bottom before she did. If she hit those rocks...he didn't let himself have the thought. Instead he threw himself down the hill, racing to pass her, to stop her descent before she could smash into the jagged rocks along the shoreline.
Thickfur skidded to a stop and she collided with his side. The grey tabby held still, digging his paws into the ground, his breath coming short and ragged. Dawnpaw looked up, seemingly just realizing what had happened.
"Thank you." Her whisper wrenched at his heart. Then anger began to boil in his stomach. His gaze went hard. There was no tolerance for weakness. No forgiveness.
"Never do something so mouse-brained ever again!" he roared, barely hearing her whispered response. "I can't always risk my life to save you."
"Was anything off before?" asked Larchstripe worriedly.
Thickfur shook his head. "She was fine." An image flashed through his mind of her face, burning with humiliation.
"Is there some kind of sickness like this?" asked Elmheart nervously. He was starting to let his concern get the better of him. "Something that causes cats to faint? Whatever it is, Kitetail can fix it, right?"
Thickfur hadn't seen the young warrior this worked up for a long time. Usually when he saw Elmheart, the tom's green eyes were filled with humour and light – except, of course, when he was around Dawnpaw. Then he was guarded. Thickfur didn't know what had passed between them, and he didn't care, but he did know that Elmheart was extremely worried right now. The last time the golden-brown tabby had been this distraught was when Branchpaw had gone insane.
That was the story, anyway. Thickfur suspected that Dawnpaw knew something more than she let on, but as it had to do with the mind-link, he didn't push it.
"Hailstripe's death wasn't an accident!" Dawnpaw cried, and her voice was so honest that he wanted to believe her so badly it hurt. But Thickfur knew the dangers of naivety, of foolish belief, of pranks gone wrong.
"Then tell me who killed him." His voice was ice and it made her flinch back. "Tell me the name of his murderer."
He watched as she choked on the words. It was there in her throat, stuck, suffocating her. Thickfur watched her through narrowed eyes, wishing that everything was different, that it was all easier. Did he believe her about Sootpaw? It was hard to tell. It explained everything, and the story of how he had met the ShadowClan apprentice had been the truth. But he couldn't let himself believe it, couldn't get trapped in that nightmare again.
While Dawnpaw drowned on her words and her fear (and why couldn't he just be there for her, he was her mentor, he needed to comfort her and he was failing and everything was wrong), Thickfur merely shook his head. "I believe you about Sootpaw, I really do." He barely knew what he was saying. The words fell off his tongue so easily. "You need to learn to leave it alone."
"If Kitetail doesn't know the remedy, maybe Birchcloud will," said Larchstripe mildly. ShadowClan's medicine cat had been a consistent sight in their camp while he had been training Kitetail. Now that Kitetail had received his full name, Birchcloud visited far less frequently, though the two still remained friends.
Thickfur nodded. It was worth a try. "I'm sure Slatestar will dispatch someone to get him if the need arises."
"I can't, I can't, I can't," sobbed Dawnpaw, collapsing in on herself. Her body shuddered and convulsed as she balled up, trying to repel the outside world. Thickfur felt his heart go out to her, felt a strange feeling come upon him, felt himself step over the line he had set a moon ago. This was the exception to the rule. She needed him.
So he pressed his side to hers and let her take in his warmth. It was the only comfort he could give her. Thickfur remembered being a kit and pressing himself in Slatestar's fur. He wished he could go back to those days, when he had been a kit, when there had been no responsibilities.
"Yes," he told her, because now he had the biggest responsibility of them all, and her name was Dawnpaw. "You can."
They were almost at camp when Kitetail and Galepaw came rushing out of the trees to meet them. Kitetail took in the scene with wide eyes. "Galepaw told me that she fainted. What happened?" The medicine cat looked truly nervous, his fur in completely disarray.
"She just collapsed," said Thickfur shortly. "What's wrong with her?"
"I – I don't know..." It pained the brown tabby to admit it, that much was obvious. Kitetail was generally a very quick learner, and a naturally skilled healer, so it bothered him that he couldn't identify this illness. Thickfur might have felt pity for him in any other case, but right now, all he cared about was Dawnpaw.
"Let's get her to your den," he said, and there was no sympathy in his voice for the young tom, only the hard edge of worry.
.
They laid her down on a large nest of moss. Thickfur remembered all the times he had yelled at her for forgetting to change the elder's bedding, and then he felt a stab of anger at himself for reminiscing. There was no room for emotion here. He just needed to look after Dawnpaw.
"Just leave her there, she should be fine," mewed Kitetail. He stood over her, an array of herbs laid out between his paws.
Thickfur stood behind Dawnpaw protectively. "What have you got there?"
"Nothing that will wake her up," said Kitetail woefully. He rolled a ball of marigold between his paws. "I've never seen anything like this before. I'll talk with Birchcloud, though I doubt he's heard of it."
"What's going to happen to her?" demanded Thickfur, pausing to remove a hard lump of snow from Dawnpaw's pelt. "Can she eat or drink?"
Kitetail shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Do you know anything?" Worry made his words sharp. Thickfur took a deep breath. "How long can she last like this?"
Kitetail shrugged. "Maybe...maybe half a moon, if her body begins to shut down. Her heart rate will slow, and so will her breathing, but she'll be alive. We just need to find a way to wake her."
"And if we can't wake her?" Thickfur insisted.
"If she doesn't wake up soon..." Kitetail trailed off. When he looked back up, his amber eyes were wide with fear. "I'm scared that she's just going to wither away."
X X X X X X X
A/N: So Thickfur has feelings, sort of. I didn't delve that deep into his past in this chapter, but I promise, it will come up at some point! Other various comments: we'll see more of Kitetail when he's not being scared, Elmheart's definitely a lot more serious now, and Galepaw just always seems to be the runner for important plot points.
Anyway, I like how Thickfur came out. The challenge was writing his feelings without turning it into a Sootclaw-esque monologue about feelings and walls and waves of colour and love and pain and all that angst. Speaking of Sootclaw, I'm sure you're anxious to hear how Dawnpaw feels about him at the moment. That will come next chapter, so stay tuned!
Also, Limekit is lime like limestone, not like the fruit! Just to clear that up :)
Another general P.S.A: Many of you seem concerned, even upset, with the fact that Sootclaw and Lilystream are mates. I can only take that to mean that I have been successful in my writing. I just ask you to trust that I'll give every relationship the credit that it's due. There's obviously something between Dawnpaw and Sootclaw, and it would be unfair if I let it go unresolved forever. Feelings will be explored, I promise. You'll just have to wait and see!
bubbletail: Yeah, seems like it's Sootclaw. But read the above. :)
KittyKat8888: Berrynose had the potential to be a great character, and then the Erins sort of... faltered. Whatever happens with Pigeonpaw, I promise he'll at least be a developed character in the end.
Juniperleaf of BlazeClan: It excites me that you check your email just for my updates, that's awesome. You're not the only one annoyed with Dawnpaw's passiveness, though - Thickfur seems to be pretty bothered by it too. :) Also, online fist bump?
ScourgexScarlet: Aww, thanks!
The Last Clan: Haha, the one LilyxSoot shipper. (Loot? Sily? SLILY. WE'RE CALLING IT SLILY. Okay, no.) We won't be seeing the kits for awhile yet, unfortunately, but we'll have a Slily (mwahaha) scene coming up in a few chapters.
Blackish: You're definitely right about the pace; the chapter was meant for exposition, basically a "what has happened to ShadowClan in the past for moons" spot. The story is going to start off a bit slow, as we do have a lot more POVs in KotS than we did in Pawn, but it should pick up.
Hailkit sees his father as a hero, a great and noble cat. He's mature for his age, so he's able to think of death in a nonthreatening way while still understanding it, but he's still too young to really understand the act of killing. His father died before he was born, so he was never really attached to him, more just the idea of him. He feels proud to be Hailstripe's son, but he doesn't "love" Hailstripe, or anything like that.
Coqui's Song: I have a great (and unrelated) mind-blowing moment near the end of the fic. I'm very excited for it. More on subject, the kit's lives won't be rainbows and butterflies, but that's all I'm giving away. Anyway, yeah, here's your look into Thickfur's mind!
EverythingBurnz: I hope you slept in so you will actually get this the moment you wake up. As that isn't really likely, however, try to enjoy it anyway! Unfortunately this doesn't really explain what happened to the mind-link, but hey, everybody loves Thickfur!
allygirl56: Aww, please don't be upset or break your keyboard! I don't want to be held responsible for any havoc you might wreak during your despair. In all seriousness, though, just because Sootclaw is "putting buns in Lilystream's oven", it doesn't mean his feelings are conflicted. The poor guy is more than a little confused.
frostfeather: As the last chapter should have mentioned, Sootclaw and Dawnpaw are able to block each other out at will, thus preserving privacy. She would definitely know that something was up with them, but not the exact details, and this question will actually be resolved next chapter.
Hannah- Queen of Rawring: Unfortunately, Hailkit doesn't play a huge role in this story, but he'll take on a larger part in the next. As for Sootclaw, he's not nearly as bad as he used to be. He's just gotten fairly lazy, and it'll take something big like this to make him realize that being mature isn't just something he can do when he feels like it - especially if he's going to be a father.
Thistlethorn of Shadowclan: Yeah, seriously, go work on it XD Anyway, thanks for the review, and glad to know you like the newest ShadowClan additions!
A few random postscripts: I feel guilty about the length of my author's notes. Slily is now the best ship name ever. I wish I could just write Thickfur chapters for the rest of my life.
Next chapter is Dawnpaw!
Thanks for reading and please review!
- PV :)