face to face

[cometpaw]

Here is a fruit for the crows to pluck
For rain to gather
For the wind to suck
For the sun to rot
For the tree to drop

Here is a strange and bitter crop



All RavineClanners welcome,
Phantomsun required.
Might add Silverhawk yet.

» c o m e t p a w

A subtle rain fell over the wooded lands of the forest cats. Even in the thickest parts of the forest, water seeped through cracks in the pine needle ceiling to wet the undergrowth. The downpour had begun early that morning, before any intelligent creature was up and about. By midmorning, the flow hadn't slowed in the slightest and everything was beginning to grow soggy.

She lifted her paws high over the ground. She was drenched up to her elbows and damp all over. She held her mahogany tail high, not out of dominance or arrogance, but to keep it from dragging in puddles. This was the life of a warrior. To traipse about in the wet and cold for a few scraps of cold rodent flesh when you'd much rather be curled up and dry in your den. A sigh escaped her, but she didn't have time to linger on her predicament. There was a sudden crashing of sound nearby and the dark-furred cat fell into a cautious crouch, her tail lowered and fluffed in alarm. There was little need to worry, though. It was simply a deer, leaping over the undergrowth and out of sight in a few short seconds.

She pulled her ears back in frustration and silently chided herself for being so skittish. A real warrior would have stood tall in the face of danger. But that was probably why she wasn't a true warrior, just an apprentice. She'd never really thought about it before, but the "paw" part of her name was starting to get old. At only a little over thirteen moons, though, she still had at least two or three moons of training to complete. And it would probably be something closer to four or five. She ground her teeth together, hating the thought of battle training for the nearly the next six moons. She'd already had seven moons of it all. It wasn't until the previous moon that it had all started seeming incredibly monotonous. A frown hit her face. Rainstar would probably want to hold their ceremony back until Gryffinwing's kits were ready for their mentors. A clan without apprentices would appear weak before the other two clans. What did it matter that they had a handful of brand new warriors? Everything seemed to be judged on the number and talent of a clan's apprentices.

She pushed herself to start of at her slow trod once more. The sooner the fresh-kill pile was full, the sooner she could get herself dry and settle in to wait the rain out. However, knowing her luck, she'd get sent off on a border patrol just as her hunting was finished...

A twig beneath her paw snapped and one end of it prodded at her paw pad. Drawing in a sharp breath, the she-cat pulled her paw away from the ground. As the brief flash of pain subsided, she reversed the paw to inspect it. A mostly-healed cut was visible across the entire pad. Its swelling and tenderness had gone down, despite the conditions around her. The medicine cat, Silverhawk, insisted she was careful on it, lest the infection return. The tiny wound had already left her holed up in his den for a day with a slight fever. She refused to allow such a thing to happen again. After a full minute of examination, she deemed the paw fine and returned it to the cold ground, this time carefully avoiding twigs and sharp things.

She padded on for another few moments, her ears alert but catching nothing more than the sound of water dripping all around her. The rest of the forest was wisely hidden away in their dens and hiding holes. If it didn't mean facing a hungry clan, Cometpaw would have simply given up and headed back to her dry nest. Her jaw clenched and her eyes lifted off the ground and up towards the masses of clouds above her.

There was another reason she didn't want to return to camp. He was frustrating, annoying, kind, and flattering. His tabby fur was very similar to his father, with the pale hints of mother's brown. His eyes were a shade of green that always lingered in her mind. And his name was Cinderpaw. Her feelings for him seemed to change as quick as the wind. One moment she felt more for him than she'd ever felt for anyone. The next, though, she was furious with him. Her mind became jumbled just thinking about him...

Letting out a huff of a sigh, the dark-furred she-cat decided to take a little break while she knew no one else was around. Moving carefully but quickly, she slipped under the low-hanging branches of a large evergreen. At once she sat and began to lick the wet from her fur. A pink tongue traced down her side, following the line of a barely-there stripe. Her rich brown fur was the only thing she had to remember her dead father by, seeing as she'd never met him herself. And the faint stripes that fell here and there over her body were what remained of the influence of her mother's genes. When she was born, Cometpaw had been a dark mess of dark brown stripes, over a base of light creme-brown. Each moon since, her stripes had gotten lighter and her base-color darker. She paused in her cleaning, staring at a few stripes around her beautifully-shaped wrist. If they all faded, she could look nothing like her mother Racconpelt anymore. Where her brother had been born looking just like his mother and not at all like his father, Cometpaw was the opposite. Her hazel eyes dipped in a soft sadness.

She paused in her licking to taste the air. Still no prey around, but she thought she caught the faintest hint of another RavineClanner nearby. Praying it wasn't Cinderpaw, she slipped from her dry shelter and began pretending she was actually hunting. Cursing silently, she realized her half-cleaned pelt would give away her break in a heartbeat. Padding quickly in the direction opposite of her clan's camp, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. It was a thrush, brushing its wings wide as it hopped along the ground, pecking at tree seeds.

"Phantomsun can't say I didn't try," she whispered, smiling slightly. Her mentor couldn't be completely cross with her if she at least brought back a single piece of prey. And all Silverhawk would have to do is glance at her damp pelt before he declared her under the weather and had her holed up for the rest of the day. For once, Cometpaw was okay with his worrying.

Placing one paw gently before the other, her body dropping low as her muscles coiled close. The bird kept pecking away at the seeds, moving only slightly. Every few pecks, it would glance warily up. Luckily Cometpaw's dark fur melded into the forest around her perfectly. Surisingly, her wet fur was actually helping. With the ground spongy, she made no noise as her paws sank into the soil easily and silently. Several foxlengths from it, she crouched even lower, preparing to leap. For several heartbeats, she held the position, not moving a hair. Then she released her muscles and let her body fly towards her target.

The bird must have seen her the very instant she'd launched, because it burst into a noisy flight just before she hit the ground. Snarling furiously, she scurried after it, but the bird was gone.

The forest was utterly silent around her. Cometpaw removed her gaze from the treetops where the bird had disappeared and allowed it to fall down upon the ground again. A ragged breath caught in her chest. Only mouselengths from her dark brown toes was a soggy mass of mottled fur. Her claws instantly slid out, slipping into red-stained soil. A shudder ran through her, eyes wide. She would have leaped back if she could move her body properly.

"Hawkshadow," she breathed.

Her body cooperated only enough to stumble back a few steps before her dizziness overtook her and pulled her paws out from under her. The bloody scene before her was too much to take in all at once, but her gaze still swept across is mechanically. There were scratches all over him, patches of fur missing here and there. At his neck was a horribly deep killing wound, the one that had let his life's blood slip free. His amber eyes were still open, staring at her. His mouth was half open, as if he'd tried to yowl for help.

Speaking of yowling... Cometpaw pulled herself together just well enough to lift her head and scream a frightening alarm call. Her claws were still digging into the ground, even as her cry died. Her thin paws were shaking, and she couldn't pull her eyes from his.

[phantomstar]

{p.h.a.n.t.o.m.s.u.n}

Life wasn't going well. The clan was depressed because of the weather, the kits were extra annoying, the apprentices were restless and Hawkshadow was missing. That's the problem that rang through her heart day and night, the one that haunted her lonely, sleepless nights. Hawkshadow's missing. Hawkshadow's missing. Hawkshadow's missing! It was a haunting, terrifyingly heart-breaking mantra that repeated itself over and over again in her heart, her heart, her very being.

She had been through hell once and had the ominous feeling that she was about to enter it again. Virosleek had been her first love, her fireworks, her everything. And then he was gone, and she the only place she saw him was in her dreams. She had met Hawkshadow and hope had flared deep within her...maybe it won't end in tragedy. Was her thought, and so she let herself love again.

And now he was missing. She couldn't believe that she had fallen for that old ploy again, fallen for that fickle thing called love. The worst part about it was the fact that she was now in a leader position, that her beloved RavineClan was looking to her, and she didn't feel ready. She didn't feel strong enough, brave enough or even remotely intelligent enough.

Both Virosleek and Hawkshadow had made her feel all of those things, but they were gone. No! The thought burst through her head, sudden and fierce, like a searing flame. Hawkshadow is not gone, not for good anyways! He'll be back if it's the last thing I do! She sat up in her den, well, her temporary den where the leaders' lived.

Sun-yellow eyes peered out into the rain and muck, wondering where she should look that she hadn't already looked before. Before her thoughts could get much further, she heard a scream; more of a feral scream coming from her apprentice, off in the distance. Phantomsun didn't hesitate, didn't pause, didn't wait: she darted out of the den, crouched low to the ground, running as fast as she could. The rain was pounding against her, the muck was sloshing against her paws, making it nearly impossible to run.

But she was determined. Cometpaw was in danger and that was all that mattered. All thoughts of Hawkshadow and Virosleek and regrets had vanished. She was just running, running, faster and faster until she thought that her body would collapse from the exertion. She could scent Cometpaw, but her apprentice's smell was mingled with that of death...no! Her mind screamed, almost incoherent against the panic that rose within her heart. I am not losing someone else! She refused to let Cometpaw go. Not on her life!

She didn't realize until she arrived next to Cometpaw panting, desperate to make sure that her apprentice was okay, that the smell of death was not connected to the young she-cat. But to Hawkshadow. The pile of fur in front of her, mangled and blood-soaked, was all that was left of her beloved Hawkshadow. Sweet, sweet Hawkshadow.

Something inside of Phantomsun died. But she couldn't deal with that now...not now. First she pushed Cometpaw a little, to break the young cat's gaze away from the dead. Cometpaw must be so afraid. "Go back to camp. Phantomsun whispered, her throat choked up, full of unshed tears and exhaustion and pain. Slowly, Phantomsun stepped forward, as if by delaying her arrival at Hawkshadow's body it might just prove to be a bad dream. A nightmare. A vision of hell.

No, it was reality. Phantomsun lost all willpower as she collapsed next to his body, letting the tears fall. She didn't even have the energy to sob, just buried her face in his cold, wet body and cried. Curling herself tightly around her mate's body, she let her soul scream in anguish as the rain poured down all around her. A muffled scream came from her, but she didn't even notice that she was screaming into his body. She just wanted him to wake up and tell her that it was a mistake, that he wasn't really dead...He had promised that he would never leave her, never let her be abandoned again! He had promised! Well, he lied. They all promised never to leave, and they always abandoned her in the end...First her father, then mother, then Stripekit, Foglight, Virosleek, and now Hawkshadow...when would the torment end?

Now. A subconscious decision was made. Only very vaguely was Phantomsun aware of the decision, but it was made. She would never trust her heart to anyone else ever again. Never.

[cinderpaw]

absence is to love what wind is to fire...
                                                                         

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‌ ‌‌ ‌
                                                                         

...it extinguishes the small, it enkindles the great.[/color]
[/center]

___ His world was spinning and he didn't know why. Cinderpaw paced the dens, discomfort prickling through his tabby fur and as the rain shot down on the clearing, the soft drops trickling upon his lean figure, the tom let out a sight for what felt like the millionth time. The leaves beneath his paws crinkled and the young cat pawed it in agitation, teeth grinding together. He felt so suddenly distressed and angry and hurt and impossibly anguished that he couldn't explain it, and though his heart was beating a million times faster than it usually was - something that would usually send adrenaline pumping through his veins - he couldn't understand why he was feeling this way. He felt something similar to this when he was around Cometpaw -- but then, that was always a spark, a sensation that was impossible to misunderstand.

"Cometpaw," he breathed, finally understanding. His eyes scanned the clearing feverishly, small prints of ivory pounding against the rugged earth in succession as he raced through the clearing, poking his head into dens where he wasn't welcome, in a unsuccessful effort to find her. Panic gripped his heart. She wasn't here, she wasn't anywhere.

He shouldn't have been worried, not at all, because she was entirely capable of handling herself and he knew that very well. Perhaps the pain that struck his heart like a million arrows was because of the tiny thought pricking his mind, that she could be somewhere else without him and having fun -- having fun with another tom. Cinderpaw shouldn't have been worried about that either; he had prepared himself, long ago, for the day when she would leave him to go frolick off and fall in love and have kits without him -- to have a life without him. Understandably, that was hard, but this was entirely different. She was either hunting or patrolling and there was no reason why she shouldn't do that alone - without him, who was only her rival and enemy and object of her hate - so why couldn't he handle it? If he couldn't handle this then how would he be able to handle --

"Son..?" his father's low, grave voice echoed in his ears and shimmering green pools flaring with panic, he snapped his head up to look at his father. He gasped - whether it was in pain or surprise he didn't know - at the expression on his father's burning face - as if he was dead already, burning at the stake - and for a moment he could only stare, gaping openly at the pain that burned across the carefully coated concern trying to spread itself across Tallstone's face.

His mother -- had Northwind really done this..? Trying to gather himself, Cinderpaw gazed up at his father and he tried to measure the strained smile his father gave him in response, as if the middle-aged warrior could read clearly into the depths of his son's emereld-green gaze that was becoming so much like his mother's. Swallowing thickly, Cinderpaw tried to move his lips in an effort to explain, but his mouth was dry and when he moved them, no words would come out. He glanced up at his father again and the look that flashed across his father's face - pain, regret? - made Cinderpaw stumble briefly backwards.

His father -- was this really because of Northwind? Did he really love her that much? To some extent, Cinderpaw was more mature and developed now -- this was not only physically (evident in his broader shoulders and newly-formed muscles) but mentally as well. Even so, he couldn't handle this -- this chaos he saw in his father's eyes. Taking in a gulp of fresh air, the tom straightened his shoulders and still panick-ridden, tried to explain," Cometpaw, s-she.. I need -- !" He didn't even have time to carefully see the strange expression - hopelessness, sorrow, anguish? - that rippled across Tallstone's older features because the shriek that tore through the air made him stop. He choked, not only because the sound made his spine tingle uncomfortably, and the horror in his eyes to gleam brightly, but because that voice was only too familiar.

Shock nearly locking his muscles in place, Cinderpaw leaped away from his father and ripped through the forest, paws pounding feverishly across the forest floor. Panic and fear had long ago taken over his brain until he could think of nothing but her -- nothing at all but Cometpaw and saving his sweet, wonderful Cometpaw.

Somewhere inside him grimaced when he realized that if she had been able to hear his thoughts - if she ever heard any of his thoughts that were directed towards her - she would probably rip him to shreds (this also made him giggle internally in a strangely euphoric way), but he kept racing through the forest. The pain of losing Cometpaw to whatever was surely across the other side of the forest was too much to bear. He couldn't stand it, not seeing her, anymore.

Suddenly, the tom crashed into the clearing where he was sure laid Cometpaw - in his mind, she was bloody and torn and dead and the emotions that appeared at those thoughts gripped at his heart nearly crippled him - but when he stared across at the scene, his heart stopped and his paws froze in his place. He couldn't see anything, not even her because his eyes had already trailed over the body and Cinderpaw could not simply tear himself away.

" H-hawkshadow..?" he whispered brokenly, choking on his own tears. He couldn't move because his knees had already buckled from underneath him. And, suddenly, he was crying and dying and he didn't know what to do with himself. His mentor was dead.

Agony crippled him. This was just like Talonpaw all over again.

The only guy that deserves you,
is the one that thinks he doesn’t.
The one that’ll stick by your side,
no matter how much you mess up
And the one who will forgive you,
mistake after mistake.

"awws." → finished → 980 words

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[northwind]

Northwind

She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child,
But she's always a woman to me

For many, the rain was a good excuse to stay snug and dry in the camp, but for Northwind, it was prime opportunity to finally be alone. Even the muggy drizzle outweighed the thought of suffocating in camp, with Tallstone hovering over her and every mindless duty and normality added another inch to the hole she was digging for herself.

She lifted her delicately shaped head to the rain, the drops streaking down her face and onto her coat, reflecting its color like droplets of liquid gold, its rich amber color glossy and damp. It wasn’t as if she didn’t like being a warrior of RavineClan. She adored her clan and they her. And those feelings didn’t even come close to what she felt for Cinderpaw. Gentle Cinderpaw who looked more like her everyday and with a soul so sweet she felt guilty for every moment of anger or jealously she felt when her son could be so self-sacrificing and loving. Her feelings for him were unequal to anything else and it was one good thing that Tallstone had brought to her life.

Tallstone. The beautiful warrior knew she should be racked with guilt or empathy but when she looked at him, her feelings were frozen like ice and no sweet word or gentle gesture could thaw them. And she knew she hurt him, that every time she turned away he died a little inside. He didn’t deserve that. For taking her in, after fraternizing with a rogue, for loving Cinderpaw and Talonpaw as his own, which was still up for debate, and for the loyalty and compassion he had shown her for moons.

Still, whether conscious or subconsciously, she was trying to push him away. Northwind wasn’t cruel, but some part of her wanted to see him break, to turn away from her, to finally give up. She wanted to know when her remarkable beauty and unseemly grace wasn’t enough to tip the scale, when the pain she had caused him and continued to finally outweighed her undeserved gifts. Her beauty, which turned so many heads, was not something she worked for, but was given to her by StarClan and she was judged only by it. A curse that threatened to envelop her until it no longer mattered who she was on the inside. She was good because she was beautiful, a worthy friend because of this empty shell of a body and not for her soul. For these reasons, she wasn’t sure if she could ever love Tallstone. He loved her unconditionally and not by her merit. How far could she push unconditional love?

She pushed herself up on her paws, tail held erect, as she made her way through the soaked foliage and back to camp. And her thoughts still weighed on her as heavily as the dew-laden pine branches. But soon her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a streak of tabby fur and panicked emerald eyes shot past her. Vivid green eyes laced with sapphire hues stared quizzically after him for a moment before glancing up at Tallstone. She was startled and she almost took a clumsy step backwards, at the naked pain openly displayed upon his face. And for a moment she was unsure, sorrow and guilt flickering in her eyes and hunched in her shoulders. Great StarClan, she didn’t think she had the ability to fathom his feelings, the depth of his love for her, and for a moment, she wanted to do anything to erase that pain. But she straightened up, the ebony streaks of her coat becoming less distorted and she lifted her chin up while lowering her eyes. Away from his naked pain. Then she did what she had done so many times before. She turned away from him.

She left camp. She wasn’t sure why, but she knew that her son needed her and she was intent on finding him. She had to push her nose to the soggy dirt, but his scent was there, even as it hid under the rain. With paws barely skimming the ground, she ran until, through the clearing, she saw the crouched shaking body of her son with the mahogany pelt of Cometpaw and that of her deputy. All huddled around the body of-she gasped-Hawkshadow. She ran to her son, pressing her amber flank against him as if attempting to shield him from the sight of his mentor in a pool of his blood. But it was far too late for that, and his pain had become her pain.

She glanced up at Phantomsun, obviously too overcome with the sight of her mate. “Phantomsun?” Northwind mewed quietly. “What do you want me to do?”

[silverhawk]

_{in my place, in my place}
SILVERHAWK
^{were lines that i couldn't change}

His heart beat with RavineClan. When the sun set each day, the only thing that filled his soul was thoughts and love for his clan. He lived for them, breathed for them, prayed and meditated for them. They were more a part of him than his own name. He imagined that each hair in his pelt was a RavineClan cat, past, present, or still to come. The mere thought of them sent a warm breath shuddering through him and ecstasy running down his spine. So you could imagine his distress when one hair fell away from the rest. His heart felt like a weight in his chest, weighing him down and threatening to overwhelm him. He had spent days laying alone in his den, his pelt dull and his eyes expressionless. He mourned with every fiber of his being.

But it wasn't their fallen leader that plagued his very essence. Nor was it the freshly-killed cat awaiting his attention out in the forest. It was a cat whom he had raised almost like his own kit. A cat he had known since her birth. A cat whose mother had been his earliest mentor. And now she was gone.

Dreampaw.

It seemed StarClan was intent on robbing RavineClan of a very fine and powerful family line. It had started with Sorrelkit, who had died very young. Then Darkrain had slid from Silverhawk's grasp. Next, Cheetahthorn had just left, neither dying or saying his goodbyes. Waterpaw had left next, presumably in search of her father. Now it was Silverhawk's beloved Dreampaw. Her litter had been his first successful time delivering kits. She had grown up playing in his den and rough-housing in his carefully-organized herbs. She had thought of him as an uncle, but he had loved her like a daughter. She had simply vanished, away into the wind like her father and sister. The loss of her had left Silverhawk moaning aloud to StarClan.

He ran his tongue over his paw, softening his pale amber eyes. There came a time when a line had to be drawn. Certainly, he'd always miss her cheery face and mismatched eyes. But there came a time when he had to start living for the clanmates he still had. They needed him still just as much as Dreampaw ever had. He shuffled his body around, leaning more on his right flank as he lifted his right paw to his face and began cleaning its underside.

The camp was quiet that morning. Even in the rain, he had expected some sort of noise. Gryffinwing's kits should have been making excited squeals and tiny mews. The apprentices should have been complaining about keeping up with their duties in the downpour. The young warriors, Goldenwing and Beestripe, should have been about bragging to the apprentices that they could now sleep through the rain if they wanted. The silver-pelted medicine cat lifted his gaze, looking out from his elevated den.

For a moment, all he saw was the abandoned stream bed in which they made their camp, drenched and soggy. One pale-pelted tabby came into view. Silverhawk blinked lightly, slowly putting his paw down. It was Cinderpaw.

Now, many cats would certainly testify that Silverhawk was off his rocker in multiple ways. And perhaps it was true. But the silver-toned tabby always kept his eyes on his clanmates, knowing their comings and their goings better than they did sometimes. Watching the still-young apprentice, the medicine cat imagined he knew what was running through the young tom's mind.

On one paw was a particular other apprentice. She was willful, powerful, and altogether very oblivious. Cinderpaw was head-over-heels for Cometpaw, but she had no idea. In fact, Silverhawk was quite certain the pretty she-cat wasn't even aware of her own feelings in return. They were both stubborn (Comet more than Cinder, definitely) and both very shy underneath it all. Sometimes, Silverhawk wanted to point out the truth to the both of them, but he knew it would have to happen on its own, at its own pace. They were both still so young.

The other matter Silverhawk knew was weighing on the tom-apprentices mind was not so easy to watch. Northwind and Tallstone had never been perfect mates. The medicine cat had always assumed they would sort their feelings out eventually, but it had yet to happen. Tallstone loved Northwind almost to the point of infatuation, while Northwind appeared to be using the poor tom. Silverhawk prided himself on his good intuition. Northwind was hiding something. Something Tallstone apparently knew about, but not the rest of the clan. As much as Silverhawk's curiosity longed to know what it was, he respectfully stood back and let the couple keep their privacy. But, whatever it was, the secret seemed to be eating away at Tallstone.

Speak of the devil, the slim, gray-furred tabby had just approached his son. Something seemed to pass between them, but Silverhawk was too far away to catch what it was. Looking down at them, Silverhawk felt something in his chest ache. Father and son were far from identical, but there were little things about them Silverhawk thought they had in common. Their personalities, for one. The medicine cat felt a wave of sadness that he'd never have a son of his own. Medicine cats never took mates, even those who were males. The closest he would ever get was watching his brother's litters grow (he fully expected them to have a third litter eventually).

And then it came. A heart-wrenching sound that Silverhawk knew all too well. Phantomsun shot from her den in a heartbeat, her dark stripes a blur as she sped from the came. Cinderpaw paused only long enough to gasp a word to his father. Just like Silverhawk and Phantomsun, he recognized the voice off the bat.

The medicine cat had froze. He felt unable to move. He knew they'd been needing him (he felt it in his bones), but for a second, he couldn't pull himself to move. It would mean more sorrow, more sadness, more dreadful depression. The happiness Gryffinwing's kits had brought to the clan was quickly being overthrown. RavineClan had gone through dark times before, but Silverhawk was having trouble recalling how exactly they'd kept their heads up all the time. He wanted nothing more than to sit where he was, pretending everything was perfectly fine. But it wasn't, and he knew it.

He was moving before he realized it. Silverhawk didn't go for herbs. Somehow he already knew he wouldn't need them. His body had been bred for speed. His well-shaped paws flew out before him, pulling the ground quickly away beneath him. His long, striped legs pumped swiftly, rotating in a relaxed, natural movement. He probably could have closed his eyes and still found the place where the others mourned. He could scent the blood, hear their cries, sense their sorrow. And he knew every step of RavineClan's territory like the back of his paws. It was less than a minute before he came to a gradual stop.

He took only a brief glance at Hawkshadow's limp body. All it took was a single glance to know there was nothing left to do for the warrior. His spirit was long gone. He may have joined StarClan several hours previously. While he would later be upset about not being there when the tom-warrior stepped into the unknown, Silverhawk knew there were more immediate things to worry over. He cast his eyes around. Phantomsun had curled herself up next to her dead mate. Cometpaw was several foxlengths away, her brown fur standing on end and her hazel eyes glued to the glazed gaze of the corpse. Cinderpaw was on Silverhawk's other side, openly sobbing. In a swift movement, Cinderpaw's mother Northwind slipped from the brambles and directly to her son's side.

"Phantomsun? What do you want me to do?”

Silverhawk already knew that their deputy/leader wasn't in any condition to be giving orders. His tail flicking at once, Silverhawk snapped his head to meet Northwind's sky-tinted gaze. "Take Cinderpaw back to camp at once," he commanded smoothly, his voice hardened by a sudden weight. He held his head high he looked like a completely different cat than his usual bright and open persona. Instead, he looked steely-eyed, muscles tense, body stiff. He looked like the warrior he had almost become. "In his current state, he's in no position to fight off any ailments. He'll get greencough staying out in this weather. Take him directly to my den and warm him up. I'll come shortly and give him something to make him sleep." Sleep wouldn't heal the hole in the young tom's heart, but they would at least ease his shock.

Silverhawk turned away from them as if his order had already been carried out. Cometpaw was a few pawsteps from her mentor's side, nose reaching out and about to touch Phantomsun's shoulder. "Cometpaw," she jumped in surprise and took several quick steps in reverse, "I need you to search the forest around this clearing. The killer may be present, and we'll need to know immediately." Her gaze flickered from Hawkshadow then back to Silverhawk, widened in fear. "Go at once. Phantomsun and I will stay here until you return. If you hear or scent anything, yowl for us at once." She held back another second. He could see her paws shaking. In the back of his heart, Silverhawk wanted more than anything to take back his order, but he couldn't. The silent, emotionless part of him that had taken control of his body whispered, She recognized this sort of danger when she agreed to train to become a warrior.

He turned back to Phantomsun, and at once his softer side took over again. His paws shook, and he had to force himself closer to the bloody body of his dead clanmate. But he pushed past it, pulling his soft silver body close to the striped she-cat. "Phantomsun," he whispered. But he found there was nothing else he could say. No 'I'm sorry's would ever bring Hawkshadow back, nor would any 'It'll be okay's make her feel any better. There was nothing he could do but touch his muzzle to the side of her head and hope her pain would pass as soon as possible.

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[phantomstar]

{p.h.a.n.t.o.m.s.u.n}

Time was at a complete standstill for Phantomsun. The raging sea of emotions coursing through her seemed to vary from unbearable grief to inconsolable anger. Why? Why was this happening? How could this possibly happen to her...again? This had to be some cruel joke from StarClan- maybe they were really bored up there in the sky and decided to torture their descendents for fun...

No. I can't think that way. Phantomsun thought to herself. I can't let myself lose faith in StarClan...if I lose StarClan, what do I have left? It was a sobering thought, but coherent thinking didn't last long. It came and went, but somehow, Phantomsun knew that she couldn't lose herself here. No, she had to come alive and grieve later...wasn't that what leaders always did? Maybe I'm not ready to be a leader...then again, what choice do I have?

She sat up, shaking her head quickly to clear her mind and bring her back to the present. Looking over at Silverhawk with broken yellow eyes, she glanced back down at her beloved's mangled body and whispered, "He was a good warrior." She swiped a paw across her face as a feeble attempt to get the mixture of tears and blood off and looked up to the sky, giving Hawkshadow a silent farewell. Standing, she looked around, ears pricked and tail-tip flicking, only vaguely aware of her surroundings and wondering where Cometpaw had run off to. Perhaps to see if the killer was still around....

Who had done this to poor Hawkshadow? Could it possibly have been another Clanner? Who would do such a thing? Her thoughts tumbled together and her futile attempt to stay calm shattered. Voice shaking, she whispered, "W-who would do su-such a thing? Why? Why!?" Silverhawk was one of the few cats left that she would completely let her guard down around, because she knew that she could trust him with anything. She wished she was better at hiding her emotions than she was, though. She wished she was driven by her mind rather than her passionate nature, wished that she was better at keeping up a strong front. Sometimes she felt that the Clan could see right through her, and right now was one of those times...

[flametwist]

FLAMETWIST

[/size]
would you rather take your death by fire or ice?[/center][/font][/color][/size]

There was a darkness that seemed to engulf him, the inky blackness seeping through the tints of his fiery frame. the tom padded through the forest, cold amber eyes ablaze behind the shadowy lines of the undergrowth, and although he said nothing, his way in which he strode - in long strides, easily placed with measured lengths - said everything that needed to be said.
To tell the truth, the flame-licked tom had no idea what was happening and from the look of the tall, stone-colored tom ahead of him, his fellow warrior didn't either. The difference between the two, however, was not so much in age was in the way they carried themselves. while tallstone padded forth in quick, almost panicky, steps - his blue-edged pools flickering anxiously back and forth - flametwist walked in solid steps, his mouth set tightly beneath dark lips.
the fiery tom had been pulled from his watch unwillingly in the same way that peace is brought from war and relationships are broken without meaning. tallstone - though he had not meant it - had stumbled out of the camp in the same anxious way his son had; and this is meant to be taken quite literally. cinderpaw had made quite a tom of himself in the moons that he had grown without his mother's constant watch. he shared his father's lean, wiry frame and strong muscles, but reflected his mother's soft look in the gentle slope of his jaw, the slender bridge of his bones. his eyes, a mimic of northwind's, glowed with a brilliance just like young tallpaw's - as flametwist, flamepaw then, remembered - and any good cat would not be able to help him or herself when seeing such a pained, shattered look on a cat that you have grown up with.
flametwist often spent the day, when he wasn't being pulled around by phantomsun's mere presence, watching over the clan. starclan knew that he wasn't deputy - even if a part of him often wished he was, only so he could be closer to her - but a loyal warrior couldn't help but hope for peace. this was flametwist's way of making sure of that peace.
it was in these times that flametwist's minds often drifted in areas where it should not linger and he found himself shaking his head, trying desperately to concentrate on the mingling cats before him.
tallstone, however, broke him out of his thoughts and for that - for a second - flametwist was thankful. he had been thinking of her again and his mind would surely cross barriers they were not meant to cross if he had not broken off like he did. flametwist had, at the time, looked at tallstone curiously when the older warrior came rushing up to him, mouth moving incessantly, which turned to confusion. without knowing it, flametwist soon found himself following tallstone out of camp and into the forest, where familiar scents immediatley flooded him. one in particular, actually -- phantomsun.
and this is where they were now. he sighed, lifting his head, and trudged forward. surely, tallstone was overreacting? surely there was nothing wrong with cinderpaw or northwind? the tom who was head-over-heels in love with his mate, the beautiful and irresistible bengal she-cat with tantalizing blue-green orbs, often made flametwist wince at the hopeless way he padded after northwind and how he often - in flametwist's opinion - brought things way out of proportion. this time could not be different; it couldn't --
"I - I can't ! " flametwist recognized the cry of protest to be cinderpaw's and his eyes widened. "cometpaw ! " the voice came again, along with a fainter shuffling that sounded like someone escaping and bolting off.
well. he had originally thought tallstone was making a big deal over nothing, but the sudden sweet-smelling scent that wafted towards them and filled him in a presenece that was - and could only be her - made him rethink everything. he recognized the other scents - cometpaw, cinderpaw, silverhawk - but what made his muscles lock in place and bolt forward, keeping in pace with tallstone, was the blood that mingled with her scent.
now he knew that tallstone - who raced with a pace that rivaled many of the swiftest cats in the clan - wasn't kidding. the two toms that were usually very unalike in both demeanor and coloring - one being cold but fiery, the other being pitiful but accepting of everything - suddenly were perfect reflections of each other. they matched each other's pace, paw for paw, as they shot through the undergrowth, the fearful flames of their eyes burning with anxiety and pain. both cats with one-sided loves, both cats who couldn't bear the thought of having such important cats ripped away from them.
"cinderpaw ! " he faintly heard tallstone cry in anguish, stumbling forward into the scene. the flame-licked tabby barely saw tallstone's eyes flicker thought the scene, barely noticed the way the tom stared and locked eyes with his mate, a surprisingly coldness seeping into his blue-eyed gaze and the way bitterness set into his jaw. flametwist didn't see the way tallstone looked away, eyes following the retreating figure of cinderpaw - who, assumibly, had ran away to chase after cometpaw, no doubt - and the flicker angrily to northwind. flametwist did not see how tallstone glared coldy at the mate he was supposed to love for forever and forever, and instead push past her after hissing phrases like, " follow him ! " and "he could be hurt! don't you care?". but, as he shoved past her, he muttered probably the worst one for northwind, "what kind of mother are you ?!" which was probably out of frustration of her little games than anything else.
flametwist, however, did not know any of this. he didn't hear the cries. he didn't see how the couple that everyone had always thought would always withstand the ties of time was slowly breaking. he didn't feel the crackle of tension in the air.
in the same way that cinderpaw had only, moments ago, been able to stare at hawkshadow's mangled body and how every day cinderpaw could only see cometpaw for all that she was worth, flametwist seemed frozen in place. he took in a sharp breath.
"... phantomsun ?" he whispered, choking. she looked... looked... -- words couldn't described the emotions that suddenly racked his body at the sight of her in such anguish. he blinked, his muscles suddenly locked together in shock, and was surprised to feel his heart clench together, as if the pain that she was surely feeling was his own.
quickly composing himself, disguising his surprise into sympathy, the tom took a deep breath and forced his muscles to move. he padded forward slowly - it felt like he was walking through molasses and that someone was pulling him back all the same - until he was at her side.
his face twisted into anger at his broken leader. "i'll hunt them down," he forced out, shaking as his amber eyes burned into the broken body at their paws. he didn't know where all these feelings came from. he had never really liked hawkshadow - but maybe that was biased, considering it all - but that didn't mean he didn't care. his eyes softened as his amber eyes glanced at her again. "if that's what you want," he whispered.
anything for you, he thought.

[/blockquote]

[northwind]

Northwind

Everything happened so fast. For a few short seconds, even in the midst of Hawkshadow’s bloody body, the air was filled with an eerie silence, the apprentices in shock, Silverhawk comforting Phantomstar, horrified to see her mate’s body mangled up, beaten and broken, by the claws of an unknown demon. Who knew whether it still lurked in the forest or whether they had traded their fox-ridden home for an even worse terror.

Her beautiful blue-green eyes, unusually dull and lifeless, instead of brimming with light and confidence, shifted to her son’s form. He was so like her, more so every day, and if she couldn’t find anything to be proud of, it was giving birth to this beautiful creature. StarClan had been fortunate to Talonpaw, sparing him from the cruelties of life that beat down on Cinderpaw like a constant torrent of rain. And try as she may, StarClan knows she would take every blow for her son without so much as batting an eye, she could do nothing. Trapped again.

Then, without warning, the clearing erupted in yowls and several new forms burst through the foliage, snapping branches and crushing leaves as they went, and two toms appeared. One of them, Flametwist, she recognized the brightly-hued ginger pelt of , and her mate Tallstone. She paid no heed to him, she never did, her attention was all for Cinderpaw. It was just then that Cinderpaw, seeing the fleeting mahogany form of Cometpaw, slipped out from under her form and sprinted after her, before Northwind could even utter a word. All she could do was watch her son disappear through the pines helplessly. If he was going after Cometpaw, nothing she could say would stop him until he knew Cometpaw was safe back at camp. She knew her son too well to even try.

The golden-hued she-cat watched for a few seconds, oblivious to the commotion going on around her when a voice of cold steel rang out, and a large form pushed angrily past her, their pelts brushing roughly, and she stumbled slightly, regaining her balance quickly, even if it lacked any sort of grace in an un-Northwind like fashion. She blinked in surprise and her blue-green orbs locked onto the retreating pelt of her mate.

“What kind of mother are you?”

It took her a few seconds for these words to register in her mind, the rest non-existent, meaningless, as she had always blocked them out before. These words however, cut her like lightening, left her gasping for air. This couldn’t be Tallstone, the same tom that followed her like a helpless kitty-pet through their apprentice days, the same tom that stood wordlessly by her as she gave birth to kits, potentially belonging to a rogue. His eyes were ice and for a moment, she did not recognize him. She stood there, petrified, open, exposed, unable for a moment to summon words that could combat the shock seeping into her veins.

Then she saw fire, flames licking at her green tinted gaze, her beautiful bengal pelt stiff as the hair rose on her back. Her claws unsheathed, she was unaware of this, forgetting where she was and who she was with, as the mother bear in her clawed and spat at her better judgment. There was no one, not the clan, not Tallstone, that she would allow question her loyalty to Cinderpaw.

But it was too late. His liquid silver-brown pelt was already practically out of sight, running after Cinderpaw. She barely glanced over to the others, Silverhawk and Flametwist would take care of Phantomstar, and she had to eventually collect Cinderpaw anyway. She bolted after them, her golden mottled pelt a blur through emerald bushes until she was side by side to Tallstone. Northwind put on an extra burst of speed and skidded to a stop, churning up dirt, and wheeling around to face him, her eyes locked on his, unflinching, standing her ground even in the shadows of his much larger figure.

“How dare you say that?” she spat. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my son, nothing I wouldn’t give up! How dare you question that? I love Cinderpaw!” she hissed at her mate, her voice laced with anger and peppered with shock.

[silverhawk]

_{in my place, in my place}
SILVERHAWK
^{were lines that i couldn't change}

Pain shot threw him, starting like an arrow to the heart and spreading out over his body in cold ripples. In a broken heartbeat, all boundaries between him and Phantomsun were cut. For a split second, he could feel her overwhelming pain. He felt as if StarClan had dropped him into the middle of the lake, and the torrent of freezing water was slowly dragging him down. Staring down at the blood that was now staining her pale fur, the tom felt a brief moment of complete and utter helplessness. It was his lowest point since... Well, since... Silverhawk lowered his head, eyes closing. He hadn't felt so painfully low since he'd stood in a strange forest over three tiny bodies. He'd been completely unable to help them, his poor defenseless niece and nephews. They'd slipped away from his grasp, lost forever beyond his view. The pale medicine cat ground his teeth together. How could he sit by, unable to stop the pain that was tearing his clan apart? RavineClan had been drained of all that made her glow.

His gaze was staring, unfocused, at the ground beneath his feet. From the corner of his eyes, he saw a bright flash dancing through the forest. His head snapped up at once. It was a brilliant flare, moving in a rhythmic motion, parading ever closer. His gold eyes widened, and Silverhawk gasped aloud. It was a cat. It topped a small hill and descended seemingly in slow motion. Like the sun dawning after a bitter night, the cat brought a blinding light into the clearing. Silverhawk's breath caught in his chest. Paw by paw, the cat flew forward, sparks flying up each time it beat the ground with its sprint. Its eyes burned pure white, the color bleeding out over its face. The most amazing part was, though, the cat's pelt. Instead of fur, the light-cat was covered in flames. The fire flickered heartily and danced about the cat's body. Despite the carpet of dead pine needles beneath the glowing cat's feet, not a single one lit into a flame of its own. In fact, the nearby plant life seemed to lean forward as the cat moved past, leaves turned as if rejoicing in the cat's brilliant glory. Without blinking, Silverhawk suddenly noticed another cat at the flaming one's side. Tallstone, he recognized at once. The warrior looked perfectly normal at first, but in a flash of light, his coat, too, erupted into flames. The two cats ran side-by-side the last few paces into the clearing, chasing away every shadow and nearly blinding Silverhawk. He turned his face away, clamping his eyes shut. When he opened them again, it took a few seconds for his vision to return to normal. When he looked up, the forest was back to its usual state, no flaming cats, only Tallstone and Flametwist. The medicine cat's gaze was staring down at the ginger warrior as he approached the she-cat crouched beside her dead mate. When the warrior opened his mouth, Silverhawk heard no sound coming from him. Instead, he heard a whisper echoing closer and closer to his field of hearing. When he finally caught it, his eyes widened, seeming to glow alive.

"A spark shall return to every paw and every heart."

In a sudden rush, sounds returned to Silverhawk. He looked down, bewildered, as Flametwist was saying, "i'll hunt them down," shaking his head as loyalty and devotion glowed in his eyes. The medicine cat let out a strange sound. He jumped suddenly to his paws, as if about to run, but didn't move. "if that's what you want," the warrior finished. Silverhawk suddenly found his voice.

"Your loyalty will not be forgotten, Flametwist," the medicine cat spoke softly, voice and eyes alive with some sort of strange fascination."But your clan has different need of your services right now. Go," he ordered, "and call the clan together. All of them. Those int he forest and those in the camp. RavineClan will gather tonight to honor this warrior. And," he added quietly, voice quivering very lightly, "we will speak of the future."

He turned at once to Phantomsun, dropping into a crouch so he could look her in the eyes. "You're not alone, Phantomsun," he whispered. "All of RavineClan has lost today. Our pain shall never be so great as yours, but, remember, you don't mourn alone." He touched his nose to her ear, closing his eyes and willing her to feel the truth in his words. After a long moment, he leaned back, lowering his head further, and whispered, "StarClan has spoken to me. A light shall return to us, Phantomsun. We will make it through this night of great darkness. We will see the light of dawn again." He stared into her eyes for a long moment, faith and a strange passion burning from his gaze.

Silverhawk moved then, stepping over Hawkshadow and lifting the tom by his scruff. With his tail, he motioned for Phantomsun to aid him. They had to get him back to camp, where they would clean his fur and lay him out to be honored. The clan would show their respect for the warrior who had lost his life for his clan. The mottled warrior would join their ancestors in StarClan, eternally remembered and always watching over his clanmates.

[/color][/blockquote]

[phantomstar]

{p.h.a.n.t.o.m.s.u.n}

It seemed as if the longer she spent next to Hawkshadow's body, the more she felt the truth of his death escape her. Surely this cold, lifeless lump of matted blood and fur couldn't be her Hawkshadow- not her warm, gentle, loving Hawkshadow. Surely not. It was impossible. Oh? a mocking voice asked her, deep within her. Was it any more possible with Virosleek? Well, where is he, hmm? The voice was cold, sharp like a dagger and mocking her very soul.

She shoved the voice aside, ignoring it to the best of her ability. Cats around her blurred and came and left, but a flame-licked pelt caught her attention. Words were exchanged, but she didn't quite catch their meaning or connotation. What she did catch was Silverhawk touching his nose to her ear and whispering words that sent warm rays of sunshine cascading into that pit of emptines that used to be her heart.

"...you don't mourn alone. StarClan has spoken to me. A light shall return to us, Phantomsun. We will make it through this night of great darkness. We will see the light of dawn again." She raised her head, looking into the heavens, sun-yellow eyes shimmering in torment and longing, aching and wishing. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, something new entered her eyes. Something undefinabe, something full of light and StarClan.

Hope. Hope entered her eyes, hope for her heart, hope for RavineClan, hope for the return of love. She stood, shaking her head to rid it of tears though blood remain dried on her fur. She grabbed Hawkshadow by the scruff, just choking back the longing to start sobbing again. She clung to the fragile hope flickering within her, like a flame twisting and turning around her heart. It was small, but it was there, and she wouldn't let it go...not on her life.

(Sorry, it's short guys...Major headache...)