Chapter 36: Funeral

It was strange to see both the Tribe of Rushing Water and us, the journey cats, coming together for Claws' funeral. While the rest of the journey cats did not really know Claws, they knew how much he meant to me. We'd been friends, comrades, kin of vices. Now, he was gone, and there'd be no bringing him back. It was my fault. I gave him those claws. I gave him the duty to finish things if it went wrong. It might as well have been me that killed him.

I stood over his body, tears falling like the falling water the tribe got its name from. Dawn was pacing about, her fur stained with tears. She could not bring herself to sit still, and yet she couldn't leave either. Instead, she just walked the same path over and over. Never too far away and never still. Every once and a while, she'd claw the ground, making her frustrations known. Claws had asked me to be there for her. That was his last request, but I don't think I could bring myself to stay here. These cats are too indoctrinated, too prone to just accepting tragedy. I could never get along with them.

It was when the other tribe's cats approached did I remember the selfish nature of sapience. They spoke lies claiming to have treated Claws well, always having known that he'd do something grand. They claim to always have known he'd be the hero to defeat Jaggedtooth. They call him a hero, a martyr for their tribe. They glorify themselves as having always supported Claws during his miserable life. Rot is deeply intrenched into these cats. They praise their ancestors and themselves, not acknowledging how they drove Claws to hate his tribe and ultimately reject them in his final moments.

Dawn was furious as cats claimed to have been friends with the diseased, knowing fully well that not even two days prior these cats were claiming Claws was a curse or assaulting him for merely being disallowed from retaliating. I simmered with rage as they corrupted his memory. Claws was a kind cat who cared for others even when they did not care for him. He loved his sister and was loyal to his friend. Here they twist his history, claiming he was fearsome and demanded respect

A memory struck me in that moment, one from Scourge. It was from one of his long-winded rants on the nature of the world. "When a villain dies, everyone always hated them. The masses ignore that they once glorified the villain as a hero. They forget that they once gave the villain the power to be evil, that they were the root cause. Same for the hero. When a hero dies, they all loved him. They forget how they once demonized the hero, casting stones of hate against them. In the end, the masses always claim to have been right all along. There are no apologies, only self-congratulations." Those words hold true even now. The only thing keeping me from lashing out, from unleashing my rage is that I knew Claws. I knew the real him. Claws wouldn't want me to lash out. He'd want us to remember him and ignore those beneath contempt for their false claims.

Eventually, Dawn managed to drive most of them off, screeching at them for dishonoring Claws' memory. It was just us for a while. The rest of the journey cats left to secure a place to sleep or gather some food. They knew that I did not want their company right now. Dawn pressed into me as we shared our grief. We cried. We let the overwhelming sadness take us. I'd lost a friend, and she lost a brother.

Eventually, two cats chanced approaching us, a tom and a molly. Dawn's fur rose at the sight. "No! You do not get to pretend to have cared for him." She hissed, lashing a paw out in warning.

"We have a right to be here. He was our son." The tom rebutted indignantly.

"Oh, now he's your son? After all you did to him, after disowning him, you want to claim he was your son? How low can you get?" Dawn growled back.

"Please! I'm his mother. I loved him." The molly begged in a tone that almost appeared sincere.

"You claim to be his mother, but what mother would insult their kit with such a cruel name? You named him Claws Who Mar the Mountain's Face. From the moment he was born and Stoneteller told of his desires, you saw him as just a curse, a mar on your name. You nursed him only long enough for him to be weaned and then you kicked him out. Even when I was a kit, I knew that what you did was wrong. Even now, there's so much time he never got to be a kit. He was forced to embrace the fate Stoneteller foretold, living at that cat's back and call. I share some of the blame for not being strong enough to always protect him, but you failed to ever be his parents. I rejected you long ago for what you did. Now leave my sight before I turn this from one funeral into three." Dawn hissed.

Then we were alone again. We sat vigil for a while until Stoneteller chanced approaching us.

"What do you want?" She hissed at the elderly tom.

"I'd like a moment to speak to Darkpaw and Claws." He answered calmly.

"And why should I let you do that?!" She growled back, sinking into a defensive position.

"Despite how it looked, I did care for Claws. I never wanted this to happen. I never meant for him to suffer. The moment I saw his curse, I tried to protect him and guide him. I wanted him to have a peaceful life free from his addiction to violence. I am sorry that things ended up this way. Please just give me a moment." Stoneteller pleaded.

Dawn considered it for a couple moments before letting out an annoyed hiss. "Ragh! Fine. I'll give you a bit, but don't think I've forgiven you. It is because of you that Claws had such a miserable existence." She growled before departing.

Then it was just us, I the anomaly and Stoneteller the prophet. We'd been enemies because my existence defied his foreseen future. We didn't speak for a long time, instead both looking down upon Claws' body, still shining like silver in the moonlight. Then Stoneteller broke the silence with an accusation.

"You stole Claws from me." He mewed in a strangely level tone. "I saw a bright future in Claws. He was supposed to be my successor. The tribe would have thrived under him."

I hissed at his accusation. "You really think he'd have accepted that? After how little the tribe cared for him, how could you ever expect him to lead them with care? They hated him and he hated them. What kind of life would he have led if he was forced to care for those he knew despised his existence?"

"It wouldn't have mattered. The Tribe of Endless Hunting would have guided him." Stoneteller calmly rebutted.

"And he'd have been miserable! What a sad existence he would lead, forced to relay the words of his ancestors to cats who didn't care for him. He'd just be a mindless voice for them. Is that what it means to lead your tribe? Does ruling simply mean being a mouthpiece for your ancestors? In all you saw, did he ever smile?" I argued back.

Stoneteller hunched further at my chastisement. "It is no different from when I was chosen. The burden of being the Stoneteller is immense. These cats that surround me are the tribe. I am merely a voice. That is how it has been." Stoneteller mewed with a tired voice.

"Then it sounds like you've got to make a change. You are still the leader of the tribe. You don't have to just be a mouthpiece. At some point, your tribe lost the meaning of leadership. There's a reason our clans have a leader, a deputy, and a medicine cat instead of a Stoneteller. Our leaders are chosen to lead because of their leadership skills. The deputy is chosen by the leader as either their successor or a cat who can help manage our clans. Then we've got our medicine cats, the ones connected to our ancestors and the ones who care for the hurt or ill. They are divided roles because one cat cannot handle the burden of doing all that. You've got time to change. Make Claws' sacrifice meaningful. Fix what you know is broken. There's no need for one cat to suffer for the many." I replied back.

Stoneteller just sat in silence a while longer. He briefly took the time to groom Claws' body and give one last farewell brush before trotting away into the darkness. Then I was alone. Claws my dear friend. I hope you found your way to Starclan. The day I die, I hope you are there to greet me.