Faustian | warrior cats

vi | blame

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DARKNESS slept in the forest like a dozing beast and those who were too afraid to step near it slept as well. He always had trouble falling to sleep, the restless nights started ever since he was a kit. He was afraid of no beast and surprisingly fell in love with the shadows.

The nighttime forest held a lot of beauty the daytime forest could never have. Constellations were visible now that the sun was dreaming, they connected across the black heavens and told stories only the insomniac could read. The tom loved the midnight noises; the faint screech of the owl, the tickle of wind in his ear, and the joyfully chirping crickets. Hollowhawk would always be a sunshine sort of tom, but the night brought out an emotion in him that he would never understand.

On a journey through the after-hours, the brown tabby spent his time discreetly in the forest. He was careful where to place his large paws, not wishing to attract any sound in his step. The forest thickets welcomed his adventure and latched on to his coat, wanting to come along.

Hollowhawk's yellow eyes were a dazzling difference to the black atmosphere encompassing him. Though they were gentle, they shimmered like two fires. He and his golden eyes continued onward, drawing closer to the lake.

Suddenly, his nostrils trapped a sharp scent. The tom hesitated, sucking another breath in. In the second sniff, his thoughts halted in repugnance, though his heart began to gallop in fear. Hollowhawk had recognized the scent though he didn't want to believe it. His paws soon followed the steps of his heart. The tabby traced after the stench, praying that it wasn't true. What Hollowhawk smelled was blood- a cat's blood.

Racing towards the lake, Hollowhawk no longer gracefully moved through the forest. His heavy paws trampled over the undergrowth, letting out noises of plants and branches being flattened under his weight. As he traveled over distance, the scent only grew stronger.

Shortly, his eyes met the sight of the stench. Sliding to a halt, Hollowhawk watched the oozing plasma taint the clear water of the lake. His stomach churned sickly, his dinner threatening to make a reappearance. His yellow eyes studied the limp body on the shore. He blinked a couple of times, hoping it was a figment of his imagination- a delusion from his lack of sleep.

It wasn't. The cat was surely there, sleeping in eternal rest. The ThunderClan deputy slowly neared the body, terror pulsing through his veins. As he grew up close, he could see underneath the crimson claw marks was a face of familiarity. He gasped as he realized who it was: his ShadowClan step-father.

His mother was a she-cat of many affairs, one of the most known ones was with this tom. Hollowhawk still remembered him years after he and his mother sundered. He still remembered the names this tom used to call him and the claws he tried to kill him with. Now, he was dead.

What comes around goes around, Hollowhawk thought spitefully. Stop-don't be cruel! Shaking his head, the striped cat found himself conflicted. He was torn between the choice of throwing him further into the lake or carrying him back to camp.

I'm a good tom! He argued but temptation shouted louder. Make him and his Clan suffer! Hollowhawk lifted the bleeding tom onto his shoulders and was about to throw him into the lake when he caught a glance of his reflection in the water. He stared back at his yellow eyes, facing someone who he didn't recognize. Who was this monster he gazed at? Because it certainly wasn't him nor the cat he wanted to be.

Hollowhawk was a good tom. So as he entered the camp in the early morning light with a lifeless body draped over his shoulders, he hoped his Clanmates would also recall what a good cat he was.

―

"What were you doing in the forest that late at night?"

The question was flooded with blame. And the tom found himself struggling to keep his head above the water. He stared deep into the leader's sinister eyes, holding onto the last innocent breath he had.

"I couldn't sleep." News of the dead ShadowClan cat spread quicker than he had expected. At once, the leader was over, inspecting his fallen warrior. Now, he sat before the finder, denouncing him with a solemn glare.

Hollowhawk found this conversation rather senseless. He was not a kit in need of chastizing, still, the ShadowClan leader sat, blame tearing up on the brims of his eyes. If he had any fingers, they would surely be pointing at Hollowhawk.

"Listen, Emptybird or whatever your name was-"

"Hollowhawk-" He interrupted sharply.

"I'm not blaming you-" He certainly was. "But I find it hard to believe that you were aimlessly walking through the forest and unknowingly came across a dead body. And it's not just any dead cat either." The leader declared while scraping his silver claws impatiently across the stone floor. He promptly cocked his head as if he had figured out the answer, "Did you do this to hurt your mother?"

"My mother's dead." There was no pain in his voice when he announced it to the leader. He said it honestly like there were no open wounds that needed to be bandaged first. "Besides," The tabby flicked his striped tail. "She was the one who hurt me."

He was irritated by the leader's ignorance. After years of abuse finally ended because of her death, she was still back to haunt him like a shadow. Sometimes it was overbearing. Hollowhawk fell into a silent panic as his thoughts spiraled; his mother was the salt in the sea of his blood. He would never get rid of her.

"Hm," The leader's eyes lost their ambitious sparkle. He took a second to speak again. Hollowhawk wondered whether he had intercepted the ruler from his tracks. "Well, until I find the cat responsible for this, you are still a suspect."

Finally, the elderly ThunderClan leader stepped into the conversation. "Hollowhawk would never do such a thing," He coughed and began to stand from his nest located in the back corner. His bones trembled as he drew nearer to the toms. "I've known him for years." Webstar's clouded eyes focused upon the deputy tenderly, memories of another time flashing beneath them.

The ShadowClan leader was left beyond frustrated. Out of options, he declared with a cruel tongue, "Listen here, Webstar!" He charged near the senior, almost knocking him off his paws. "If you don't bring me a suspect by sundown, I will be sure the entire forest knows about this murder at our gathering tonight." He suddenly backed off, smoothed out his ruffled fur, and turned towards the exit. "And I'd hate to ruin ThunderClan's noble reputation." With those final words, slithering from his tongue like poisonous snakes, the leader disappeared.

Left in silence and left to his own worries, Hollowhawk couldn't help but wonder whether his leader possessed any doubt. "It wasn't me." He mumbled softly.

Webstar bowed his head, "I know." Yet, he was crippled in uneasiness.

Hollowhawk could see it clearly; Webstar was too old to be bearing such an issue on his frail shoulders. Wanting to take his leader's weight and place it on his own back, Hollowhawk knew he could handle it. He would make a promise to his leader that he would hold until the end, "Whoever did this, I will find them." 

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