Yellowstar wasn't sure what "fuck" meant, but she was sure she shared Pigpaw's sentiment. Was Scratchface mad?When he'd attacked FireClan, it had been for mouse-brained reasons-hunger for territory, to prove his strength as a leader despite the fact that the Ageless Ones hadn't given him nine lives-but they've been reasons, at least. And attacking Pigpaw over the others, that made sense; he'd fought him before, with the other cats Mapledawn recruited outside of the Clans, and surely held some grudge against the tom.
But what in the name of Gray Wing's stars was he doing now? FireClan (and Runninghare) gaped at the retreating cats. Burrpaw turned to look at Yellowstar, a question in his blue eyes, the same one in Yellowstar's head. Runninghare kneaded the sandy ground with his claws, tail whipping behind his back.
What to do about… that?
The wood thing was bobbing gently in the still part of the lake, still a far swim for non-CrookedClan cats, but probably reachable without being washed away by currents. Clearly, they were going to use it to escape.
Yellowstar closed her jaw with a snap. It didn't matter what the thing was or how it got there. Well, I am curious, but what mattered now was one, simple thing:
Stopping Scratchface.
Yet, looking around at her Clanmates, composed of three completely new cats who weren't even proper apprentices, her deputy, and one senior warrior, plus Runninghare, she knew she didn't dare risk any of their lives in the water. None of them knew how to swim, as far as she knew, and Yellowstar didn't trust her own ability to pull them out if they floundered.
"Hold the line," Yellowstar rasped; she was still weak. "Defend our borders."
"Yellowstar?" Dapplecreek mewed, her eyes wide.
Without saying another word, Yellowstar pelted down the beach, climbed up a flat rock, and vaulted into the lake. It hit her like the sting of a thousand bees, the leaf-fall cold water seeping into her cuts, shocking the fresh bruises under her pelt. She gritted her teeth, wincing, and padded fiercely out. She churned water with her paws, hating the cold and the wet. She could just make out Scratchface in the water; his fur plastered to his frame, his ears back, he looked small, insignificant. His cats were scattered oddly around him.
Is this the creature that slaughtered my elder, my warriors? That nearly killed Mapledawn? That tried to destroy my Clan? She would've yowled if she wasn't so focused on keeping her airways above water. His cats avoided her in the water. At least they had the sense not to fight in a place like this.
Yellowstar realized with a jolt that she had no idea how she was going to kill Scratchface. She didn't care about getting back to shore after… But the water tugged at her. She moved in slow-motion. Scratchface seemed as far away as the Moonpool. Still, she paddled tirelessly for him. His ears swiveled back, and he growled, a slow, sputtering sound. Yellowstar sent up a wordless prayer to the Ageless Ones.
Scratchface was almost to the bobbing thing. He reached up a claw to grip the slick edge, missed, and splashed back into the lake. Yellowstar kept after him; he tried again, managing to get a clawhold in the sodden wood.
"Oh, no you don't," she hissed, grabbing the loose fur around his neck with her claws. They snagged, tugging at him; he yowled in fury and pain, but held on.
"Yellowstar!" someone cried from the bank. "Yellowstar! Look out!"
She turned her head just in time to keep a long black tom-Deepshadow-from grabbing her neck between his paws, no doubt intent on pushing her below the waves.
"I don't have time for you," she hissed, mouth open above the water. She kicked out powerfully with her hindlegs and shoved the tom away, still keeping a hold on Scratchface with her foreclaws.
"Get off!" Scratchface kicked her, but the motion knocked him off of the bobbing structure. He fell, gasping, into the water, taking Yellowstar with him.
The world slowed down beneath the water. She may as well have been swimming through mud. Her lungs screamed for air; water whipped into her open nostrils, making her want to cough. She bit back the urge. Their combined weight sent the two cats deeper into the lake, where Yellowstar lost all sense of up and down. Air bubbles burst and foamed out, trickling up and away.
Not like this, she thought, stars dancing behind her eyes. I have to finish it. It couldn't be for nothing!
She grappled with Scratchface. He wriggled helplessly, trying to make for the surface, claws scraping slowly, but painfully, across her already mangled back, but Yellowstar managed to hold him down. With her last bit of strength, Yellowstar opened her jaws-water flowed greedily in-and snapped them closed around the tom's throat.
She saw the water go dark around them, but she didn't taste his blood. Didn't taste anything. The agony in her chest faded quickly, replaced by a strange, growing warmth, and her last thought before blackness covered her vision was:
Fallensnow…