Warrior Cats: The Deaf Warrior

Chapter Sixty Three

Whitestar hadn't eaten anything that evening. All of the Clan had been trying to get him to eat, but he didn't seem interested.

"He was like this when Lionpaw died, too," Dawnwhisker had explained, looking sad as she spoke of her dead brother. "When he grieves, he suffers. I've tried to cheer him up, but I know that he needs time."

Goosewing had just woke up. It was the middle of the night. He had managed to get some sleep, but now he had woken up again. He couldn't stop worrying about Fuzzytuft. There was something bothering her, and he was desperate to find out what it was.

Then, he realised that his mate wasn't in her nest. Slowly rising to his paws, parting his jaws in a yawn, he heaved himself out of the den.

Fuzzytuft wasn't in the camp, so he left, meowing a quick hello to Scorchheart, who was guarding the camp, as he left. He crossed the smaller of the two streams, and then he spotted Fuzzytuft. She was a few foxlengths away, crouched down.

There was something red in her paws, and after a few moments, Goosewing recognised them as deathberries. Mossfur had mentioned them when Sheepcloud had forced him to go and learn about herbs. Mossfur didn't have any in her den because of how dangerous they were, but she said that ShadowClan might keep some.

Thornstrike spoke about how many deathberries ShadowClan has in their territory earlier when he suggested poisoning the foxes.

Fuzzytuft was gently pushing some deathberries into the fish.

What is she doing?

Then, Fuzzytuft spotted him, and padded over to him, carrying the fish with her. "Hi, Goosewing. What are you doing out here?"

"I was thinking of doing some hunting," he answered. "But I see you've already done some." He nodded towards the fish.

Fuzzytuft smiled. "I'm heading back to camp now, but feel free to hunt a little longer. It really helps you calm down if you have something on your mind."

Goosewing shook his head. "I'm really tired. To be honest, I'm worried about you. You seem upset over something. Are you okay?"

Fuzzytuft shrugged. As they crossed the stream, he noticed that she kept her paws in the water longer than usual.

She's making sure that her paws are clean.

They headed into the camp, and Fuzzytuft placed the fish carefully on the freshkill pile, before nosing Goosewing towards his den

"You look sleepy," she mewed. "Come on, go back to sleep."

But what is she doing with the deathberries?

He lay down his nest, keeping an eye on Fuzzytuft. There had to be a reason why she had stuffed deathberries into a fish.

Fuzzytuft narrowed her eyes at him. "I know you're still awake."

He turned around, pretending to sleep. He stretched out one of his front paws so that it rested near the entrance to the den.

After a while, he felt a paw stepping on his front paw. He forced himself not to move. He had to act asleep.

After waiting a little longer, he slowly and carefully raised his head, poking it out of the den.

Fuzzytuft was carrying the fish. It looked like she was headed towards the medicine cat den.

And then Goosewing realised.

Fuzzytuft had said that Troutpelt wouldn't survive the night. That was what Mossfur and Hawkpaw has said to her.

But Troutpelt was probably in a lot of pain.

And so Fuzzytuft was going to put her former apprentice out of her misery.

He could see now, the sadness in her eyes, the grief that was there too, grieving for a cat that was still alive, but not for much longer. She had always had a close relationship with Troutpelt, and had shown a huge amount of guilt when Troutpelt had gotten hurt.

That was why she was talking to Thornstrike! She was asking about the deathberries!

Fuzzytuft had been heading towards the stream from the direction of ShadowClan territory. Perhaps she had met with Thornstrike there so he could give her the deathberries!

Suddenly, all of Goosewing's questions were answered. He understood why she had apologised earlier today. She felt bad, because she was going to kill Troutpelt. Now all he had to do was comfort his mate, and remind her that he loved her no matter what.

Then, he realised that not all of his questions had been answered.

Why had Thornstrike been glaring at Fuzzytuft? Why wasn't Goosewing meant to tell anyone about Thornstrike being the one who had left a scar on his face? What had Lilyspots been so afraid of before she died? And what had Bluetail been doing in ShadowClan territory?

And as those questions entered Goosewing's mind, something else happened, something that made him sick to the stomach, and made him question whether everything he had ever known was a cruel lie, and a disgusting joke.

Fuzzytuft swerved away from the medicine cat den.

And headed towards Whitestar's den.