Warrior Cats: The Deaf Warrior

Chapter Seventy Eight

A moon had passed since the foxes had been driven away from Clan territory. Ashpelt had passed away from injuries from the foxes, but Silverheart had managed to recover, though he had very serious injuries and his entire body was covered in scars.

Lizardstar had lost her last life, and Thornstrike was now Thornstar, leader of ShadowClan. It was clear numerous cats didn't like the idea of the brown tom being leader due to his past, but Goosewing trusted Thornstar.

He had changed.

He had changed when Fuzzytuft had failed.

Fuzzytuft could have turned out like Thornstar, but she hadn't. She had refused to change, and now she was dead.

Goosewing only let his den when he had to, and he socialised less and less nowadays. Every time he saw Dawnwhisker, he was filled with pain. He couldn't love her. He couldn't. His love was dangerous, and he didn't want it anywhere near Dawnwhisker.

He saw love all around him. Whitestar and Iceheart, Thistleleap and Oakfang, Tigerstripe and Bramblepelt... they were all in love. But their love was different. They knew what they were doing.

And Goosewing was a dangerous wreck, someone who should stay out of relationships altogether.

Dawnwhisker made him happy. She was funny, kind and confident, and a little bit snappy. He felt the same feelings when he saw Dawnwhisker as he had felt when he saw Fuzzytuft. It was all coming back to him, and he didn't like it.

He didn't see any evil in Dawnwhisker. He saw a kind warrior who had always just wanted the best for her Clan. Maybe deep down, he had always known there was something different about Fuzzytuft, and he had just refused to see the blood on her claws. Or maybe, Fuzzytuft had hidden her darkness so well, not even Goosewing had been able to see it.

Flamefeather could tell something was bothering the white tom, and had suggested that he go hunting alone so he could think a little. Goosewing had agreed to this, but his paws felt heavy. He wasn't motivated. He lazily dipped his paw into the lake as a fish swam past.

This was where Fuzzytuft had confessed to him.

He lay down, closing his eyes, placing his muzzle on the ground. He could feel himself trembling.

"You messed up. They can all redeem themselves, Goosewing, but you can't. You wanted to help the cat who killed your mother," he told himself, "You imagined your mother's dead body against your claws. Don't you dare go falling for Dawnwhisker."

He kept repeating those words, trying to ignore Dawnwhisker's cheerful smile, her bright, green, playful eyes.

If he was stronger, he would rip those eyes out.

He wouldn't have to look at them then and feel so much love for her.

"Don't love her, don't love Dawnwhisker, you don't love Dawnwhisker..."

Then he felt a paw prodding his side.

The white tom hesitantly raised his head, nearly leaping out of his fur when he saw Dawnwhisker. The tortoiseshell looked very amused.

"What was that all about?" she grinned. "Speak up."

Goosewing shook his head. "I, uh, I didn't mean you, Dawnwhisker, I meant a different Dawnwhisker... there's a ShadowClan cat named Dawnwhisker!" He smiled nervously, and the large she cat rolled those beautiful eyes of hers.

"She sounds cool. You should introduce me to her some time," Dawnwhisker smirked, nudging him. Then, her expression became more serious. "I'm not forcing you to tell me what's bothering you, but I'd like to know."