The Deputies ⋙ { warrior cats fan-fic }

» fourteen

The full moon floated ominously above, obscured slightly by wisps of tendril-like clouds. Duskowl placed his paws carefully as he walked amongst his Clanmates through the shadowed forest. The flapping of a bat in the branches overhead startled him, but he set his jaw and padded on.

There was a lone thought buzzing at the back of his mind. Nettlesand was half-deaf. He hadn't said anything to Hawkstar, or anyone else for that matter. But how much longer could the secret go on without being discovered, or thrown into the wrong paws? Such an event would cost Nettlesand his life.

Duskowl craned his neck to see over the bodies of those in front of him; up ahead the forest ahead began to clear and become a stretch of grassy field. As he looked, he wondered silently what had become of him.

Just a moon ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to expose Nettlesand.

He lumbered on towards the field, watching as Falconpaw struggled ahead of him to regain his footing after tripping on a lump of upturned soil. And then, suddenly, a memory came screaming back to him.

He was sitting in the center of camp, his Clanmates gathered in a tightly wound circle around him. Ravensplash was at the other end of the circle, a vague uncertainty resting in her amber eyes. Hawkstar stood the center of the circle, a small kit at his paws. Duskowl realized uncomfortably how much the kit's slick, firey ginger pelt resembled that of his leader.

       Two seconds following, the kit was a lifeless scrap of fur with a single, bloody clawmark driven across his neck.

       Duskowl gasped as he was jerked back into the present. He had watched tiny, newborn kitten die. And who had been the one to kill him? The deputy's eyes drifted to the orange tabby shape of his leader, who walked several pawsteps ahead of him. Hawkstar had been the kit's father, and still he had killed him. Duskowl lifted his head painfully to observe the twinkling stars in the milky sky up above.

       StarClan, is this what you wanted?

       Although the stars continued to gleam, the air was agonizingly quiet. If StarClan did answer, he did not hear them.

» - - - «

Dozens of cats shuffled into the clearing, where an enormous, powerful oak tree stood with its long, winding branches raised proudly. The floor of the large clearing was made up of soft, flat stones, smoothed by the waters of a pond that had dried up many seasons ago. This was the Place of Washed Stones; the sacred place of meeting for all four Clans.

Duskowl sat at the edge of his Clan, his long fur billowing in the chilly night breeze. He sensed a body settle beside him and glanced over to see Hawkstar, who peered at him through sharp green eyes.

       "I want you to ask around about Ravensplash," the Clan leader meowed, curling his tail.

       The dark tabby swallowed, supressing the feeling of uneasiness that wove its way through his body when Hawkstar had appeared, "Good idea," he managed.

       "Start with IceClan," a growl lined the edges of Hawkstar's words, and his gaze grew fierce. "Be as direct as you need to. And be sure to mention the fact that SplashClan attacked us in their territory when they were the ones we were supposed to be proctecting them from in the first place."

       Duskowl gave a curt nod and bounded away, relieved to get away from the stern orange tabby. Several sunrises had come and gone since Ravensplash's disappearance, so he was relatively relieved to see that Hawkstar was concerned.