Softpaw's Silence

Chapter 6

The three cats dashed back to camp, Softpaw attempting to keep up with Blackfeather the best she could, as he raced ahead on swift, quick legs. As they came closer to the entrance, the horrifying yowls of screeching and growling filled Softpaw's innocent ears.

She swore she could hear every claw unsheathing, every drop from the bloody massacre falling to the ground.

The sight was worse.

Cats she had seen healthy and happy the day before were dripping in their own scarlet river, eyes widening in shock and agony. The young apprentice was snapped out of her daze after her mentor cuffed her roughly around the ear.

"Didn't you hear me? I said, you aren't ready to fight just yet. Get into the nursery, you can protect the kits if it comes to it. Don't stand outside, wait behind the leaves," Blackfeather ordered firmly.

Softpaw nodded the best she could as her body continued to tremble, sprinting to the barricaded nursery. Inside, Acornblossom's kits were in the corner, shivering, wailing, mewling for their mother who seemed to be oddly absent.

Their sobs only increased the apprentice's fear.

As she gave the kits a sympathetic look, she made her way to the entrance, trying desperately to remember the defensive stance Blackfeather had taught her.

'Mother, Birchpaw, Flickeringpaw, please don't die' she begged, praying that StarClan would answer to her pleas.

As she stood, waiting for any sign of danger, the small apprentice began to wonder.

Who would possibly attack our camp? Who is Duskstorm? Do they have a grudge against Rattlestar?

In that moment, Softpaw spotted an unfamiliar grey pelt from behind the leaves. She could hear the cat's heavy, fatigued breathing, hissing and growling like the terrifying demons her mother warned her of in the Dark Forest. She began slinking further back into the brambles, attempting to hide her blue-grey pelt against them.

As if sensing her fear, Tansykit began to full on scream, and Softpaw whirled around, racing over to the small kit. She wrapped her soft tail around the distressed kit, comforting her without words. Tansykit buried her face in the apprentice's pelt, wailing slowly drawing to a close. Brindlekit and Whisperkit joined their sister, and the 4 cats tried to pretend the danger wasn't near.

Slowly but surely, the grey tom seemed to become irritated with trying to push past the defensive thorns, as silence fell across the nursery. With a growl of distaste, the cat walked off.

Softpaw sighed in relief, smiling as the kits beneath her began to purr.

I've got you, little ones.