salt in the wound || warrior cats

prologue

nonbeliever

~~~

EVEN AT HER YOUNG AGE, Violetkit knew something was wrong. Her mother Blossomsky's expression was always worried, her father Russetfrost would often appear in the nursery to whisper something rapidly in Blossomsky's ear, and she never saw her sister, Honeykit, anymore. Now, Honeykit spent her days in the medicine den.

Violetkit didn't know exactly what was wrong. She and her brother, Sunkit, would often try and get an answer out of their parents, of why they always looked so upset and why Honeykit never slept in the nursery. But Blossomsky would just distract them or gently shoo them away.

"I wish they'd tell me the issue," Violetkit complained to her best friend, Swankit, one sunny greenleaf afternoon, twitching her white-and-ginger-striped pelt uneasily. "Then I could help."

Swankit rolled the moss ball over to Violetkit. "Warriors are like that, they never tell us anything," she declared, blue eyes gleaming. "They're horrible. When I'm a warrior, I'll share everything with my kits."

The ginger-and-white she-cat purred at her friend's words. "Oh, will you?" she teased. "And just who do you plan on having those kits with?"

"With Frostpaw, of course!" Swankit replied without hesitation, lifting her tail up in the air happily as she thought of the white apprentice. "We're going to have two litters. The first will be two she-kits, and the second a she-cat and a tom. We both agree, toms are much more work."

"Hey!" Sunkit's indignant voice came from the edges of the camp, where he was crouched by a mouse. Violetkit thought her and Swankit were having a private conversation, but apparently her brother was eavesdropping. "We are not more work. Mom"- he turned to Blossomsky -"am I more work than Violetkit and Honeykit?"

Blossomsky's eyes had been heavy with pain all week, but she pressed on as convincing of a smile as she could when she faced her son. "I'd say you two both take quite the effort to raise," she meowed light-heartedly, giving Sunkit's head a quick lick. "Now go on, finish your food. StarClan allowed us to catch that to survive, not for it to be wasted."

Violetkit now lowered her voice as she addressed Swankit. "And does Frostpaw know about this plan? And have you, you know, ever spoken more than one word to him?"

Swankit had been head over paws for Frostpaw ever since she first laid eyes on him, around the time he was about to become an apprentice. Ever since then, she'd considered him the love of her life and believed that they'd become mates in the future, though the longest conversation they've had was when Frostpaw accidentally bumped into her and apologized. Swankit, in her daze and excitement, had forgotten to say anything back.

"It'll happen, it's StarClan's will," the pale gray she-kit meowed confidently.

Just then, ThunderClan's medicine cat Featherpool burst from her den, her gray tabby fur ruffled with unease. Her eyes scanned the camp and - when they landed on Blossomsky - made quick work over to the dappled queen.

"It's Honeykit." Featherpool was clearly trying to keep her voice in a low whisper, but under Violetkit's prying ears, she may as well be shouting. "I think you should come see her."

Blossomsky was on her paws immediately. "I'll be right back kits," she meowed, before glancing over at the Rockledge where Russetfrost was speaking with Lilystar. "Russetfrost!"

ThunderClan's deputy looked over at his mate's call instantly, and after a beckon from Blossomsky he was on his way. The two followed Featherpool into the medicine den without another word.

That night, Blossomsky sat at the nursery's entrance well into the night, staying up hours after everyone had fallen asleep. When Violetkit drifted out of her slumbers and noticed that the nest was still gapingly empty from her mother's presence, she shivered and looked over to the opening. There, silhouetted under the silver moonlight, was Blossomsky.

"Please, StarClan."

Violetkit hadn't expected her mother to speak, so the sound of a voice disrupting the night's quiet almost made her jump in shock. But what was even more surprising were Blossomsky's next words.

"Please, don't take Honeykit. She's too young." A sharp inhale. "She still has such a long life to live. She's not- she's not ready to join your ranks. Please, rid her of this greencough." The dappled queen then bowed her head, turned around, and padded towards her nest.

Quickly, Violetkit shut her eyes and pretended as though she'd been asleep all along, but her mind was racing, even after she felt Blossomsky lay down next to her and drift off. Honeykit was... dying? A sharp pang stabbed her heart. How many times had her mother stared up at the stars and prayed to StarClan?

Violetkit wasn't sure if that night was the first, but every night after, Blossomsky would go through the same ritual. A pray that eventually turned into a beg which she'd finish off with a polite dip of her head. But none of it worked.

Honeykit's death came on a sunny, greenleaf morning.

Even though Featherpool's herb supply was plentiful, the disease was too strong, too quick, for the little kit's body to fight, as Russetfrost had explained to Violetkit and Sunkit as Blossomsky buried her muzzle tearfully into her mate's fur. Honeykit had lived a wonderful, short life, and at least her suffering's over.

It didn't feel real. Honeykit's death didn't feel real. Clanmate after Clanmate padding forward to say their condolences didn't feel real. The fact that Violetkit and Sunkit never even got to say goodbye out of fear from them contracting the disease as well didn't feel real. Nothing felt real.

It wasn't until Honeykit's vigil that a surge of emotions ran through Violetkit. Grief and sadness in the lead, but on its heels was hot, red anger. 

How could StarClan have done this? Weren't they supposed to be almighty? Didn't they hear Blossomsky's pleads? What was the point of StarClan if they couldn't even save a poor, innocent kit?

The ginger-and-white she-kit's tail-tip twitched with frustration. "It's not fair," she whispered beneath her breath as she watched Blossomsky's whiskers quiver in pain. "It's not right."

Why should she worship a bunch of cats who'd take her sister away like this? Violetkit's tail-tip twitched furiously. But did they take away her sister? Did they even exist?

As the little kit pondered those questions well into the night beside a piece of ginger fur used to represent Honeykit's body - the actual one was considered contaminated - she found the possibility of StarClan to be smaller and smaller. And, by the chance that StarClan was real, they must be the most useless thing to exist.

~~~

whoo, here's the prologue!! let me know what you think, i'd love to hear your thoughts! thanks for reading!

~ lily