Warriors: Silverjaw's Sorrow

Chapter Seven

"Why weren't you good enough?" Owlpaw yowled through his tears, spitting in Silverpaw's face.

    "I-I tried, Owlpaw. I swear!"

    "As if!" You sat there like a frightened kittypet and made me do all of the work. Now look at where I am! I'm dead, and it's all your fault."

    "I didn't mean to, Owlpaw. I'm so sorry, I never should've taken you out of camp..." Silverpaw's voice trailed off as a sob wracked her chest.

    "You're right. You never should've made me leave."

    "Owlpaw..." Silverpaw took a step forward, but the tom reeled away with a snarl. His body slowly warped, unscarred and slick, now growing bloodied and unkempt.

    "Nothing you say will bring me back. You're the one who led me away. And for what? To chase after rogues?" He laughed bitterly, stepping forward again, scoffing down his muzzle at his sister's trembling figure. "I said this before, and I'll say it again. We're not warriors, and now, I never will be. Thanks for nothing, sister."

    Scratches continued to spread across his pelt until eventually, a gash gaped upon his throat. Blood oozed from the horrific injury and more dribbled down his chin, plopping painfully to the floor as a puddle of crimson grew and grew.

    Silverpaw staggered backwards as sticky redness swallowed her paws. "No!" She cried, blood sweeping her off her paws and dragging her along in its violent flow, pulling her further and further away from her brother. "Owlpaw, wait! I'm sorry," she wailed, fighting fruitlessly against the river of blood. "Please don't make me leave. I need you. I miss you! Let's go back to RiverClan—together!" Her voice cracked. "I can't lose you again."

    "It's too late," Owlpaw's voice echoed across the infinite chamber, painfully splitting open her skull. "You already left me behind. And because of that, I'll never return."

    Silverpaw screamed wordlessly to the air, sucking in one final breath as the crimson ooze closed over her head. This isn't fair! She thought as tears seeped down her cheeks, mingling in the river of horrors.

    "Life isn't fair," Owlpaw's voice hissed past the roaring of blood. "You of all cats should know this. After all, I died to a failure like you."

❀

    Silverpaw woke up with a start. Her pelt was sticky and warm, and her breathing came in labored gasps. Her entire body trembled as the metallic tang of blood faded from her tongue.

    Her eyes, darting frantically along the walls of the den, finally settled to the side where Owlpaw's nest lay. Grief smothered her lungs. She sucked in a painful gasp, struggling to keep her sobs at bay. Instead of distracting herself, she focused single-mindedly on the moss. It was still trampled from when she woke him, contrary to his normal state. Always immaculate, fixing his bed nicely before grooming himself in preparation for the day. And his scent... it was just as fresh as it had been on that fateful night.

    She breathed deeply, her brother's distinguished smell nearly overwhelming her in its intensity. That must be why the nightmare was so real, she realized, closing her eyes to steel herself. It's as if he never left.

    When she reopened her eyes, Silverpaw found herself dazzled by her brother's nest. Little flecks of silver sparkled lightly up at her, reflecting moonlight and bringing back the memory of when they'd gone to collect decorations for their nests. Silverpaw had wanted pink seashells. The color always appealed to her, and she admired the shell-strewn nests adorning the nursery. Her mother's own nest was decorated with white, while Owlpaw wanted something different. He'd wanted fish scales.