Warrior Cats: The Deaf Warrior

Chapter Seventy Seven

Reaching the other side of the Thunderpath, Goosewing immediately started looking for Flamefeather. He could feel a pit of fear in his stomach.

His father had never been a strong cat. Smart, yes, but not strong.

What if the foxes had been too much for him?

Goosewing couldn't bear the thought of losing another cat close to him. He had already lost his mother.

He glanced at Scorchheart, who pressed onwards, eyes shining bravely, head held high.

And then he saw Flamefeather. The ginger tabby was talking with Whitestar a few foxlengths away.

Thanking StarClan, Goosewing felt himself starting to run towards his father, but Scorchheart nudged him backwards, meowing, "You're hurt, and tired." The two toms padded towards their father, while Dawnwhisker headed over to Whitestar.

Flamefeather's blue eyes shone with happiness at the sight of his kits.

He didn't say anything. He had never been much of a talker. He just licked both the heads of his sons in turn, smiling softly.

They started heading back to camp. Silverheart and Ashpelt weren't present, and Scorchheart explained they had both been badly injured by the foxes, and were being looked after in ShadowClan's camp. It would be unwise to get them to travel at the moment.

I hope they're okay.

Reaching the camp, the cats who had chosen to stay behind greeted them, eyes shining with excitement and relief.

I'm home. The foxes are gone, and Fuzzytuft is also gone.

Finally. The Clans can have peace.

But there was a darkness in Goosewing's heart, and he could still feel sticky blood on his paws.

Love was dangerous, love was poison, and he wanted to never feel it again.

A large tortoiseshell with long fur walked past him, and just her existence filled Goosewing with a mixture of sadness and fury.

Never again.

He couldn't love Dawnwhisker.