Sunrise

Part 3 - Chapter 1

Stormwhisker was out of chervil. Nothing he could do about that. It was Leaf-bare, one season since his brother had left, and no new herbs were growing now. None except a small yarrow patch right outside his den. Pretty convenient, he supposed. Too bad there was no chervil, though he had a steady supply of borage and dock, which he had stocked up on, and poppy was annoyingly always growing everywhere. Those piping hot red whiskers were an eyesore. So he didn't have to worry about that. Cobweb too, he considered, was always around. Spiders too. He remembered when he had brought back a wad of cobwebs with two spiders still dangling from the strands. Splashstorm had nearly killed him. He wished she was still around, correcting his every mistake, laughing at his jokes, comforting him when  he felt alone. Now he really was alone, with no mother or mentor to watch over him. No brother either. No father... 

"Hey, Stormwhisker." He jumped as a voice sounded behind him. He had been so busy sorting his herbs that he hadn't noticed the two cats waiting behind him. Kindletail and Stormstrike. The two she cats were sitting patiently behind him, though looking a bit annoyed. "Oh, hello girls, what can I help you with?" He asked politely. Kindletail rolled her eyes. "You weren't at the meeting, we thought you might want to hear about your nephew." Stormwhisker's eyes widened. "Scorchkit? What happened?!" Stormstrike huffed. "If you'd been there, you'd know." She retorted. "He's been apprenticed. To me."  Kindletail looked him dead in the eye. "So, I hope you know he's getting a good mentor." Stormwhisker couldn't agree more. Kindletail was a good warrior, but he wasn't sure his brother would think so. He never left Riverclan territory. He thought, he's still here, I can smell him on the wind. He must be a fool to think We don't all know.  Either a fool, or a mastermind.  His own words sent shivers down his spine as he thought them. Kindletail looked at his curiously. "You okay, Storm?" She asked cautiously, before beckoning to Stormstrike for them both to leave.

As he watched them go, Stormwhisker reflected on this. His brother would come soon enough, he was sure. To take back what he had lost. What Stormwhisker had taken from him. He shivered. He hardly knew his brother now; he surely wouldn't hesitate to take the life of one he had so long ago saved. Stormwhisker remembered that moment like it was yesterday. The surging, churning, waves. The crashing of the rocks as they tumbled endlessly into the water. Just like him. At that time, he'd felt as helpless as a rock, Maybe even More so. He wasn't sure he felt any different now, now that he knew Sunshatter was out there, scheming, planning. He was sure of it. His cold-hearted brother was not done. He never would be. He was going to take every btu of revenge his cunning claws could get him. Stormwhisker realised he was probably in that reach.

 He limped over and out through the entrance of the Medicine den, making sure not to put too much pressure on his back paw. That scar was as old as he was. From when he had fallen... 

Stormwhisker tried to forget that as he padded out into the clearing. Owlbranch perched on the wetrock, announcing patrols. "Kindletail, you're out with Cherryblossom and Scorchpaw for a hunting patrol. Stormstrike, you- oh hi, Stormwhisker, how's it going?" The deputy paused in his orders as the grey Medicine cat emerged. "Good, you?" He replied steadily, glancing around the clearing. Kindletail looked cross. "So do we go or not?" She asked, glaring at Owlbranch, who frowned. "Yes, yes, you go, and watch out for-" A rustling noise came out of the bushes before he could finish his sentence. Stormwhisker guessed which name he had been about to say, and his heart dropped when he realised it was that exact cat who was now approaching. He was half hidden by twigs and leaves, but Stormwhisker would recognize that silky fur, the shades of red dotting a cloud coloured pelt. But what worried him most was what his brother was carrying. Stained with crimson water, barely visible with soaking wet fur, was the undoubtedly dead body of Houndstar.