Warriors: Pebblescar's Reality

Epilogue

The only sound that was ringing in the murderer's ears was his own pulse; it was so loud and thundering that each beat made him stumble, creating an awkward gait along the shore of the river. His eyes darkened by a growing rage, the former deputy collapsed onto the pebble beach, feeling each and every of the little stones that he was named for. Cold water lapped at his paws, bringing an icy chill that made his legs shake. Fur now partly drenched, he dragged himself to his paws again, the metallic tang of blood dancing on his tongue.

Pebblescar pushed his paws forward, digging his claws into the mud and pulling himself forward. The pangs of exhaustion seemed like too much for him to handle. He was breathing heavily, a jolt of pain arching through his body with each inhale and a slight hiss escaping his lungs. The tom wheezed, feeling the blood trickle out of his multiple wounds as he lay on a steep incline. The soil beneath him was starting to crumble away as water from above started to patter against his pelt.

"Take me away from this. . ." A hoarse whisper drifted out of his muzzle, broadcasting his weakness across the area. Pebblescar realized with a jolt that he was a broken cat. A murderer, a pointless murderer who didn't understand that Minnowfrost wanted to be left alone.

And with these thoughts brokenly lingering in his broken mind, the dark gray tom wept. He wept for Cinderclaw, who had started a chain of killing and had already started to fade from the memory of the forest. He wept for Oakfire, who had only died because she knew truth. He wept for Samuel, who didn't belong in this whole mess in the first place. He wept for the rogue in the battle and Gartooth and Reedstorm and now the cat he had aspired to take the place of.

"I'm a murderer," Pebblescar meowed softly, letting the candor consume his mind. The honesty of his words ate away at his sanity, exposing the true cat that was hidden beneath. "I'm a murderer!" Anger burned in his belly, but the dark gray tom was having none of it. He sat up gently, letting the scratches on his side adjust to the new position. Soon fury topped pain and he was standing, feeling the lightning bolts of hurt race up and down his sides.

"I don't need to deny it," he snarled, spinning around his paws. "I need to embrace it."

~~~

Pebblekit muttered in his sleep, restlessly turning over. His silver pelt was streaked with mud, and the small den that Pebblescar had made was quickly becoming damp from the rain. He nudged his brother, who was snoring loudly. "Reedkit," he mewed. "Wake up!"

The dark brown tom opened his eyes, stretching his jaw into a yawn. "What do you want?" he replied in his squeaky, high-pitched voice "I'm just tryin' to sleep!"

"Pebblescar's gone." Urgency drove his meow.

"So?"

Pebblekit glanced furtively out of the small den, anxiously peering through the fronds of the fern. "If he's gone for a lot longer, then we can sneak away!" Now Rainkit was awake, sitting in the far corner of the den and kneading on the moss of her soaked nest.

The silver she-kit opened her muzzle to speak. "Why would we want to sneak away?" she asked softly, recognizing Pebblekit's stealth and keeping her words quiet. "Pebblescar saved us from ThunderClan, when they invaded the camp!" Rainkit believed her words, and Reedkit just wanted to go back to sleep, but the third kin of Minnowfrost wasn't going to go without questioning every step of the way.

"It was ShadowClan that invaded the camp, don't you have a brain?" Reedkit snorted, puffing out his fur as he paced around the den. "Or. . . or was it?" His words trailed in pitch, climbing the scale in a questioning movement.