The Roaring Winds

Chapter Nineteen: Traitor

Chapter Nineteen: Traitor

The sun had risen and fallen for almost half a moon since Mossypaw's 'adventure.' Or, at least, that's how her Clanmates had classified her quest to gather herbs for the sick kits. Mossypaw's dark brown fur prickled, as she recalled what her Clanmates had said about her, both the words spoken to her face and the ones behind her back.

"Wow! Mossypaw, that was so brave! You traveled across the enemy territory! What was the moor like? Did you fight any WindClan cats? Were you scared? You gotta tell me everything!"

"I never expected this of you, Mossypaw. Your courage and perseverance are needed traits in the younger generations. I'm proud to be your mentor, and I know you will continue to grow as the seasons pass by."

"She's getting all the attention and fame for what? It was just an easy expedition across Clan territory! I could've gone and done it, and I would've been back way faster!"

"Why are we treating this whole event as some kind of victory? Two kits still died! Maybe, if Mossypaw had been sent sooner, or if she had been faster, Streamkit and Larchkit would still be alive."

The last comment ached Mossypaw's beating heart. Surely, there was something she could've done. Maybe, Sorrelleaf had lied to her, in the attempts to ease her guilt. Maybe, Streamkit and Larchkit died, back when Mossypaw was sick and fatigued, or when she was fighting Petalpaw. Or, perhaps, they died while Mossypaw had run back to RiverClan. If she had been faster, there might be more kits in the nursery.

"I'm so sorry," Mossypaw's words were choked with grief. Her eyes grew clouded as she looked down at the two, misshapen mounds on the hillside. She was in the protective embrace of a willow tree on the hillside. Mossypaw opened her jaws, letting two white lily flowers fall onto the hillside. She was on the hillside, where the bodies of two innocent kits were buried.

"Neither of you should've died because of my mistakes," she felt herself shaking, and it wasn't because of the ice-cold leaf-fall winds. She unsheathed her claws, trying to steady herself and her ebbing fears. "I-I hope that you can forgive me one day. Though, maybe, I don't deserve that. I can't forgive myself. It was my fault after all."

Mossypaw looked up, noticing the bright rays of sunlight between the leaves of the willow tree. Then, she dipped her head, casting one last, long look at the graves. Mossypaw closed her eyes for a moment, allowing guilt to manifest in her conscience. She blinked and turned back the way she came. She quietly padded out of the shelter of the willow tree and sat down on the hillside, allowing the crisp breeze to rake at her unkempt pelt.

"It's not your fault," a familiar voice rang out. Mossypaw looked up to see Stonepaw standing in front of her. His crystal-blue eyes glistened with soft concern as he sat down beside his cousin.

It was all she had been hearing for the past several days from the tom. Every time he saw her, it was the first four words he meowed out. But, his words were as meaningless as ash every time. It didn't change anything that had happened, nor how Mossypaw felt about the incident. It didn't work last time, and it wouldn't work now.

"Different actions would've saved their lives," Mossypaw objected, flattening her ears. "There's always something that could be done. I could've been faster, smarter, and tougher. I was the one who held the variable of the kits' lives. Their deaths are directly a result of my actions."

"Mossypaw, there were so many variables. The weather, the timing, the hostile cats... all of this contributed to their deaths," Stonepaw pointed out gently.

Mossypaw stiffened for two reasons. One, she could've controlled these factors. And, two, she never told him, or anyone else for that matter, about her confrontation against Petalpaw. She opted to not respond to Stonepaw's words.