Scorchclaw's fur was bristling as the tension in the camp was more rampant than ever before. Clearly some cats weren't happy with Adderstripe as deputy, and some cats were more intent on defending him than ever. Even though it had been over a moon since Adderstripe had been chosen to be the new deputy, and it was now greenleaf, the tension never died, and Scorchclaw was wondering how long it would take until they did.
Driftberry's death and Rabbitfur's disappearance weighed heavily on the camp. Swiftstar had sent more patrols to find Rabbitfur, but it was as if the tom had simply disappeared. Even though Swiftstar had been the one to chase Rabbitfur out of WindClan, the ginger-and-white tabby tom hadn't been able to find him. He had wanted to bring him back to kill him. Scorchclaw sighed and padded towards the fresh-kill pile, wondering if he should eat. But he wasn't sure he'd be able to swallow anything, thanks to the dry feeling in his throat and the lump he couldn't swallow.
Is someone looking at me? The burning feeling of being watched made Scorchclaw turn around, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw Adderstripe staring at him, his amber eyes burning into him as if he could see everything within him. What… what is he… There was a mixture of hatred, anger, and a wild threat in his eyes. I thought we were getting along! Panic raced in Scorchclaw's heart. Does he hate me? What did I do to him?
Scorchclaw felt choked by the antagonism in camp and the abhorrence in his half-brother's stare. I've got to get out of here for a little bit. I can't stand feeling so helpless. Looking over his shoulder, Scorchclaw bounded out of camp and decided to feel the wind in his fur as he broke out into a run. Running always makes me feel better. His front legs stretched out as if they were aiming for the clouds themselves, and his back legs pushed him further and further.
He allowed his paws to take him where they wanted, and he found himself heading towards the ThunderClan border. The stream came into view, and it was getting closer and closer as Scorchclaw headed towards it. He remembered so many moons ago when they had claimed this territory. It had come at the cost of two deaths, but they had kept their hold on it for quite some time, without Rootstar making any attempt to take it back. Is Rootstar as strong as a leader as we think he is? Scorchclaw asked himself as he crossed the stream and approached the oak that marked the border. The scent was faint, and he guessed a WindClan patrol hadn't been here in days. It makes sense, because of all of the tension in camp. The greenleaf breeze made the fur on the back of his spine prick up.
Scorchclaw marked the oak when an odd, but strangely familiar scent trickled into his nostrils. The WindClan warrior turned on his heel, trying to figure out where it was coming from, when a ginger-and-white pelt leaped in front of him. Father? Scorchclaw jumped back, staring at the tom, with the same amber eyes as his father – and Adderstripe – stood in front of him. Wait, no…
"Habu!" Scorchclaw exclaimed. "W-what are you doing here? This isn't your territory!" Scorchclaw never thought he'd see Habu again. It had been so many moons since he and Gorseflight strayed into unknown territory and had come across Habu, who had claimed he was Scorchclaw's grandfather. Scorchclaw had ran away with no intent of seeing the tom ever again.
"Actually, I was looking for you," Habu confessed. He looked older than he had when Scorchclaw had ran into him, with more lines on his gaunt face, his whiskers turning gray with age. "You look well. You're so much bigger than the last time I saw you, Scorchpaw."
"It's Scorchclaw now," Scorchclaw told him.
"Oh." Habu blinked twice. "Scorchclaw."
"What are you doing here?" Scorchclaw repeated, remembering the reason Habu had given him when Scorchclaw asked him why he never went after his son. "It's dangerous for you to be here, you know. If my father hates you as much as you said, surely he'll have you killed."
"Actually…" Habu's voice trailed off. "I was looking for him."
"W-why?" Scorchclaw's eyes widened.
"A white cat with gray patches and a small tail came to me the other day," Habu explained. "He asked me for my help in getting rid of Swiftstar. I said yes because I wanted to see what he was on about. He sent one of the town cats after him to try to kill him."
Rabbitfur! He's alive! "Town cats?" Scorchclaw asked. "Twolegplace cats?"
"If that's what you call them," Habu replied. "The cat came back, and his mission was unsuccessful. This cat is going to try again, with more dangerous cats this time. I've got to warn my son. Even if he hates me, I don't want his life at risk."
"I can tell him that," Scorchclaw told him. Wait! How will I tell him I know of Rabbitfur's plans?
"But—" Habu's voice was cut off when a cat leaped on top of him, bowling him on the ground. Scorchclaw gasped in shock as the cat pushed Habu in the stream in seconds. Habu landed into the water, letting out a yowl. He pushed his paws through the water, trying to get to the riverbank, but the current was too strong, and Habu was dragged away by the stream. Scorchclaw raced after Habu, trying to follow the bank of the stream, but Habu's attacker caught up to him and pinned him to the ground.
Scorchclaw writhed under his attacker's grasp, but the cat held him on the ground, and Scorchclaw was forced to watch as his grandfather fought against the waves. But his grandfather was old, older than the last time Scorchclaw had seen him. Even as Scorchclaw tried to get to his paws to save him, he couldn't move thanks to the weight of the cat on top of him, and the only thing he could do was watch helplessly as the waves took Habu down the stream and out of Scorchclaw's sight.
"That," hissed the cat on top of him, "was a warning."
"W-who are you?" Scorchclaw demanded. "Let go of me! You just killed an innocent old cat!" Outrage thickened Scorchclaw's voice, and the cat let go of him, only to pin him down on his back side to stare down at him. Scorchclaw looked up, clearing his head as he tried to take in his attacker's face. Scorchclaw gasped when he recognized him as Peartuft from ThunderClan. You!
"I don't care," Peartuft hissed at Scorchclaw. "I was aiming for you, in the first place. That cat was just in my way. You're Swiftstar's son, and things are about to change. Stay away from him, and stay away from Adderstripe, unless you want something to happen to that pretty little she-cat of yours."
"W-what?" Scorchclaw looked up at Peartuft in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"You heard me." Peartuft's claws jabbed into Scorchclaw's side. "I wish I could kill you right here, but that's the job for another cat. Do you hear me? Stay away from Adderstripe, don't get in his way, or something will happen to the cat you love. Now get out of here!" Peartuft jumped off Scorchclaw and shoved him roughly. Scorchclaw watched the gray tabby tom disappear into the forest, baffled at how everything had played out so quickly in front of him.
He's warning me about Wildheart, Scorchclaw realized. Is Wildheart in danger? Oh, no! I've got to do something! Scorchclaw turned on his heel, ready to cross the stream, when he froze in his tracks. Habu! I've got to find him first. Not even caring that going down the stream would be trespassing into ThunderClan territory, Scorchclaw raced down the bank of the stream, searching for any sign of Habu. He ran, faster and faster, until he reached the lake shore. He skidded to a halt, searching the waves for Habu. But there was nothing. There was no sign the tom made it to the surface.
He was old, Scorchclaw realized. He must've drowned. Grief stabbed at Scorchclaw's heart and sent him collapsing to the ground. All he wanted to do was come and warn Swiftstar about Rabbitfur. That was all he wanted to do, to save his son. And he died for it. Scorchclaw hung his head, the tragedy of Habu's last moments sinking into his heart, never to be forgotten. Oh, gods, why must you be so cruel?
Scorchclaw sent a silent prayer to StarClan. I don't know what ancestors Habu will be sent to, but whoever takes him, please understand that he was a righteous, honorable cat. He lived his life doing what was best for his son and died for it. Please accept him just as he would accept the cats he love. Thank you. With that prayer sent, Scorchclaw turned on his heel, heading back towards WindClan territory. He had to help Wildheart. And he knew just how.
Even if it meant breaking her heart.
The reality of what he was about to do – combined with the fact that he had been unable to save Habu – made Scorchclaw stop in his tracks. Oh, StarClan. Please give me the strength to help me do what I am going to do. It's going to be so hard for me, and even harder for her, but it's the only way to save her. I need to break her heart in order to protect her.
Scorchclaw recalled Adderstripe's patrols in the morning – he had sent Wildheart on a solo hunt near RiverClan. I've got to find her. Scorchclaw ran, swifter than the wind itself, his instincts focused on finding Wildheart alone. Even though the shock and grief of losing Habu had clouded his thoughts momentarily, he had something to do. He couldn't save Habu, but he could save Wildheart. Scorchclaw felt as if he was flying at the speed he was charging with. I've got to go faster.
Just as Scorchclaw approached the marshland, he could spot Wildheart's lithe tortoiseshell figure in the distance. Scorchclaw skidded to a halt, taking a moment to appreciate the she-cat he loved with all his heart. If Peartuft is right, then this is something I have to do. Because if anything were ever to befall her… if standing at my side will put her in danger… I would rather she hate me.
"Wildheart." It took every muscle in Scorchclaw's body to make his voice cold and uninviting as he approached the tortoiseshell she-cat.
Wildheart turned her head to face Scorchclaw, and her yellow eyes shone with love and elation. "Oh, Scorchclaw! Hello!" The tortoiseshell she-cat nuzzled Scorchclaw, and Scorchclaw forced himself not to move, and to hide the purr that was threatening to rumble from his chest. Wildheart stepped back, a confused look on her face.
"Wildheart, I need to tell you something, and it's not easy," Scorchclaw told her. He was swallowing knives as the poison lingered on his tongue. I have to do this. It's the only way to protect her. "We're done."
Wildheart stepped back, her eyes wide as she gasped. "W-what…?"
"You heard me." Scorchclaw narrowed his eyes as he stared at his former mate. "We're over."
A small squeak escaped Wildheart's mouth. "But… Scorchclaw… why? I don't understand!"
"There is too much tension going on in the Clan at the moment," Scorchclaw told her. "I can't be bothered to look after you anymore. That's what I'm saying. You're nice and all, but I can't afford to be distracted by frivolous things like that. Things are serious. I can't waste time helping someone who's useless in battle."
Scorchclaw's cold words left Wildheart speechless, and he was aware that there wasn't even a hint of warmth in his eyes. Pain and heartbreak clouded Wildheart's eyes, and tears swelled in them. The she-cat shook with agony – and perhaps anger and hatred – as she stared at Scorchclaw. She didn't move.
How do I get her to stay away from me? Is she not listening? "I don't have the time or energy to waste talking to you. Don't you see that?"
Wildheart stepped back, lashing her tail. Fury blazed in her yellow eyes, and Scorchclaw's heart shattered at the hatred that she stared at him with. I never meant for it to be this way, but you can't stand at my side anymore. You'll just get hurt. I have to do this. I'm so, so sorry, Wildheart. I will always love you, but loving you will be killing you.
"Fine!" Wildheart yowled. "Just break my heart! I don't care! I want nothing to do with you, Scorchclaw! I thought you loved me, but clearly you lied to me this entire time! You pulled my heart out and stomped on it, like I'm nothing! Is that what you want? Did you want to break me? Was that your goal? Because you succeeded!"
"Wildheart, I—"
"Forget it!" Wildheart screamed at him. "Like you said, we're over. I hate you, Scorchclaw! I hate you so much! Never talk to me again!" The tortoiseshell she-cat turned her heel on Scorchclaw and raced away, moans escaping her body as she disappeared into the grassland. Scorchclaw watched her go, tears swelling in his eyes as hatred burned in his body – for himself.
I'm so sorry, Wildheart. Tears fell from Scorchclaw's eyes and onto the ground. I broke you, you're right. I'll never forgive myself for that. But it's better this way. You'll be safe, and I'll be the one in danger. Scorchclaw unsheathed his claws as he remembered Peartuft's words. Adderstripe.
If Peartuft was right, then Adderstripe had a battle with him. How did Adderstripe know that Wildheart is my weak spot? We've been meeting in secret. We've never been outspoken about our affections in camp. I haven't told anyone she's my mate, except Russetstripe, and I know Russetstripe wouldn't tell a soul, even if she hates Wildheart with all her guts. So… Adderstripe, if you want a fight, that's fine. I'll bring it to you.
Anger made Scorchclaw bunch his muscles as he stalked WindClan's territory, searching for a specific ginger-and-white pelt in particular. Where are you, Adderstripe? If you're a coward enough to threaten an innocent she-cat and to kill an old cat, are you too cowardly to face me? The rage was turning Scorchclaw more powerful by the second, and the only thing he was intent on was searching for Adderstripe.
Scorchclaw tore through the moorland, all his sight and scent focused for his half-brother. What did his half-brother want with him? He was already deputy! Why did he want to hurt Wildheart and scare Scorchclaw? Surely there had to be something more to this. Had Peartuft been bluffing? But it doesn't make sense. Whatever was going on, Scorchclaw had to get to the bottom of it, and fast. He didn't want to hurt his half-brother – not at all. But if he threatens the cat that I love most… then I'll gladly let the demons out.
Was it just Wildheart that Adderstripe had targeted? But why? Did he have a problem with her? Or was it something else? There was a sinking feeling in Scorchclaw's stomach that clawed all the way to his guts – something that told him that there was something much, much bigger going on. Wildheart was only a small part of it. Scorchclaw unsheathed his claws and tore up the grass beneath him, frustration making him want to howl to the sky.
Just as Scorchclaw continued his run through the moorland, he stopped in his tracks when he caught a faint trace of the scent from the cat he had been tracking wisp around him. He looked around, trying to figure out where exactly it came from, and when the wind brought it north, he started to trek towards the setting sun.
The scent became fresh, threatening to drown all of Scorchclaw's senses as he breathed it in, filling him with rage and wrath. Before he could blink, two heavy sets of bodies pinned Scorchclaw to the ground, and burning agony lacerated down his back. Blood pooled from his open wounds and stained the moorland grass around him. Scorchclaw tried to lash his paws out, but he was pinned on his stomach, and he couldn't move. He was completely at the mercy of the two cats above him.
The cats tore and tore at his skin, and the world turned red around Scorchclaw as the pain became even more agonizing, crippling him until he couldn't move. His teeth were clenched to stop a scream from coming out, and his entire body felt as if it was on fire, burning through every muscle in his skin. He felt lighter and lighter, the strength leaving his body as he watched weakly the blood leaving his body and pooling around him. He could no longer move his head, and just as he began to succumb to the darkness, he heard a familiar voice half-hiss, half-beg, "That's enough, Adderstripe!"
"We have to kill him, Brambledusk!" replied another cat. Adderstripe.
"He'll bleed out here. Leave him." Brambledusk's voice was tight, and Adderstripe gave a grunt in reply. Their scents became faint as their pawsteps ebbed away, and Scorchclaw let out a ragged, heaving breath. Brambledusk and Adderstripe did this… I can't… I can't move… Even as Scorchclaw tried to pull himself to his paws, he had lost too much blood, and was only able to flop back to the ground. I'm so sorry, Father. I wish I could've made you proud. And Wildheart… I broke her heart, and I'll never be able to apologize for that. Habu, I let you down… and Russetstripe… you were right the entire time about Adderstripe…
Scorchclaw closed his eyes, stopping the fight against his body as he realized it was useless to fight for his life. He was bleeding too much, and he could already see the white spots of his ancestors welcoming him. He was done. There was no way he could recover from these injuries. It was pointless to continue to try to fight for his life. I'm ready, StarClan.