The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

19. How Many More?

     Echopaw shuddered in the cold wind, watching the snow swirl wildly. As she trudged through the shimmering snow, she looked around at her surroundings. She was nearing the FireClan border, where the hard, frozen earth shifted to warm sand. Steam seemed to rise from the ground, where the snow was absent and fog took its place, gradually wrapping around her. Her path remained open, and she followed the aisle of gray mist to a clutter of large, jagged rocks. Sitting upon the stones was a familiar she-cat, who twitched her whiskers and blinked her green eyes.

"Fallenstar!" Echopaw gasped. "What- Why are you here?"

Fallenstar seemed to stare directly into the young cat's soul. "Wake up from your stupor."

"My stupor?" Echopaw tilted her head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Riverstream has led her daughter's kits to StarClan. Stop sulking over Rainfall and her kin." The leader's voice was harsh, hardly comforting. "Clearwhisker is lashing his tail with anger and Dapplefoot is snarling. They're disappointed in you."

Echopaw's heart stopped, and she stepped back. "But- I-"

"Why are you lying in your nest, huddled up to a rogue, whining to yourself when you have more important things to do?" Fallenstar questioned, standing and baring her fangs. "Those kits were meant to die. You could at least attend their vigil and carry on with your business."

Anger blocked Echopaw's throat, and she burst into a fit of shouting. "What business do I have? What do you want me to do?" She stomped forward. "Why are you antagonizing me? What have I done wrong?"

"Wake up," Fallenstar hissed. "Visit the kits and retreat to the forest. Grieve there, and then be strong for your Clan."

Echopaw dug her claws into her nest and lifted her head, shivering with rage. How can Fallenstar be so cruel? Why did she come to me just to be mean? She looked around the empty den and pushed herself up, giving her pelt a few licks. I guess Palepaw's at the vigil. Her stomach began to twist, and she struggled to breathe. Fallenstar said those kits were meant to die, but that can't be true. They were too young.

The young cat shook her black pelt and walked out of the den, shaking as she began to trod through the snow. Rainfall and Tidefoot were side-by-side, eyeing their kits with broken hearts. Shadowclaw was by Tidefoot, with Froststrike to his left. The older warrior peered down at the tiny body, understanding of loss in his eyes. He glanced at the mourning parents with sympathy and pity. Blackstar moved away from the group, slipping towards his den. Echopaw whimpered and sat by her mother, who curled her long tail about her daughter's side.

"They would have made good warriors. I believe Rainfall named the she-kit Emberkit, and the tom is called Ashenkit," Goldstreak mewed.

Sandfoot approached the two kits, looking horribly exhausted and beaten down. Tidefoot stepped beside him, and each took a single kit to bury. Echopaw felt like retching. How many Clanmates has Sandfoot had to bury this Leaf-bare? Her chest began to hurt as her throat tightened. And how many more will there be?

Rainfall shuddered and twisted away, stalking towards the warriors' den. She stumbled through the snow, and Miststep ran to her side to comfort her. Guilt raked fiendishly at Echopaw. I could have prevented this. Fallenstar's words came back slowly. Retreat to the forest and grieve there. She sighed and hung her head low. Cobweb's there. And I never told him that Clearwhisker died. It's been a while since I met him. Maybe he's the one that Fallenstar wanted me to go to the forest for.

As the Clan began to disperse, Echopaw stood and turned away from the circle. "Echopaw?" Goldstreak said, and Echopaw shook her off.

"I'm going for a walk," she huffed, her breath visible in the cold air. She quickened her pace and squeezed through the tunnel, entering the forest and directing herself towards the WaterClan border. Her paws were numb, her nose stinging as snow began to flutter again. Her pelt was soon covered in white fluff, turning her into a ghostly form that mixed with the night and light.