Sunrise

Prologue.

Blackpelt was no traitor. That was all anyone needed to know. He had served riverclan all his life, and what did they greet him with? Mean. Vicious. Violent. All those words 'supposedly' described him. But he wasn't some flaming ball of hostility. He just wasn't. But no one understood. Not even his own son. It wasn't his fault  that leafkit was weak. She'd taken after her mother, of course. The coward. Blackpelt snorted. But he'd seen potential in Mudkit. He'd thought maybe he could make something out of him, maybe he could turn him into a warrior. He was so, so wrong. 

One evening, soon to be dark, Blackpelt had taken his daughter out to the riverbank outside camp. Leafkit had been nervous of course, but what choice did she have? Was she  the deputy of riverclan? No. Was she  the one In charge? No. Blackpelt was. And he  would be making the decisions. Not just for himself and his family, but the whole clan. 

"Where are we going, daddy?" The brown and white kit's Mew made the black Tom look down. "That's blackpelt to you." He stated sternly, or harshly, whichever fit. The little scrap nodded and looked at her paws. Good, blackpelt thought. Obedience will help her out someday. 

Of course he never intended for that day not to come, it wasn't really his fault. He hadn't meant to go so far.

Instead Blackpelt looked down, then promptly pinned his daughter down. The kit squeak and pushed ineffectively at his paws, earning her a look of disgust. "You'll need to fight better than that of you want to be a warrior." He growled, and sank his claws deeper, ignoring the sequel of pain from Leafkit. He tore into brown fur, ripping and ripping until there was nothing left. Not a single scrap fo life. He coldly turned away, and as he watched the body wash into the river, taking his secret with it, he felt A deep icy blue gaze on him that sent chills up his spine staring directly at him. But he blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the eyes were gone. 

He blinked to clear his head. Whatever was in there, it wasn't a concern to him. He trotted Back into the nursery, seeing Owlbreeze asleep with Mudkit. "Oh, honey, are you back?" She asked drowsily, lifting her head. "You don't happen to know where leafkit is, do you know?" She asked, yawning. Safe in starclan. The Black Tom didn't say. Instead he simply wrapped his tail around himself and lay down, ignoring the icicles growing on his heart. His mate didn't notice, but Blackpelt felt a familiar blue gaze on him. He turned to see his brown tabby son sitting with his tail wrapped around his paws, icy gaze locked on his father. Blackpelt supressed a shudder, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Had he seen His father kill His sister? Certainly it couldn't be. 

He uneasily tore his gaze away form Mudkit. He couldn't let him become soft. He needed to be strong, like his father. He left the den, thinking of tomorrow, with a grim look on his face as he padded out of the den. Tomorrow I'll do it. Tomorrow I'll teach him what it really means to be a warrior. Or maybe he'll meet his sister's fate. He was so caught up in the bloody future that he didn't notice the pitter-patter of small brown paws, the blue eyes in the shadows, slipping something into the fresh-kill pile, or the gleam of a round red berry as he bit into his prey, dreaming of tomorrow.

But tomorrow never came.