Poisonberry's Vengence

Betrayed by Blood

A lore scene for what lies below in this chapter; Be warned, that this particular chapter contains lots of angst, a pretty big twist, descriptions of blood, and brief mentions of suicide. 

A cold, Leafloss wind swept across the ridges and rocks of BleakClan's mountain, chilling Hopewilt and Bluehawk to the bones. The moon was climbing sleepily up its dusky ladder, seeming to drag its step with two pairs of eyes trained on it. 

Hopewilt shivered, and fluffed her silky fur even more than it had been before, edging away from the rockface she'd been leaning on; it had lost the warmth it had absorbed during the heat of the day and was now freezing. She looked over to Bluehawk, who was staring stonily into the distance, sleek blue-gray fur bushed out. 

Hopewilt was terribly bored; The night seemed to be so much longer than it had ever been before, more tedious than all the nights she'd lay awake after her nightmares, waiting for dawn. She cleared her throat. "So... Are you happy with your name?" Bluehawk side-eyed his sister. "Sure." His response was clipped and short, edged with a chill that a stranger from an enemy Clan might have when addressing his foe. "Mine wasn't what I expected," she continued, trying to get some sort of conversation going. "But I like it. It's nice."

"Why are you talking to me?"

"Jeez- I was just trying to be civil. We're warriors now, not immature kits."

"We've been warriors for a few hours. Stop acting all high-and-mighty."

"I-" Annoyed, she huffed and moved slightly away from him. Fine, then. Be rude. "Now that you're a warrior, you're going to be taking Emeraldshatter as a mate?" It was more of a statement than a question, and Hopewilt already knew the answer. His ears pinned slightly. "For your information, yes. I'm taking her as mine tomorrow, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." She scoffed sarcastically. "Have fun, then."

"You're just mad because there's no tom in this Clan that would ever want you as their mate." His voice took on a malicious, bitter tone, and Hopewilt reeled back in surprise at the dig at her personal life. He was right, in that she'd never been truly interested in any cat in her Clan, she-cat, or tom. She just didn't connect with anyone in that way, and besides, the only other young-ish cat in the Clan was Beartooth. And they'd barely even ever spoke. But why was he being so mean?

"Bluehawk, what happened to us? We're siblings, for stars' sake! We share the same blood, slept in the same nest, played the same games- Now we hardly talk, and when we do, we're at each other's throats like wolves!"

"We grew up," Bluehawk sniffed. "I found Emeraldshatter, you found Screechpaw. Simple as that."

"Screechpaw's been dead for moons- or did you even notice? When I was at death's paws, depressed out of my mind and delirious with fever, you didn't check on me once- Heck, did you even notice when I lost my tail? No, because you were too busy, following that stuck-up, awful, sorry excuse for a she-cat!" Past trying to be civil, or talk like 'warriors', Hopewilt felt fury rise in her chest, finally pouring out all the repressed feelings of being ignored. But she received no apology or sympathy. 

Bluehawk's lips curled up in a snarl, and his claws dug into the stone of the cliff. "Why would I have checked on you? You killed our brother- I may have not been close to him, but I still loved him- more than I'll ever love you." 

"I didn't kill him!" Her voice broke to a sob, and panic gripped her body, making her breath come in gasps. "I didn't, and you know it!" 

Tension hung in the air, dark as a storm and itching to break. Soon, Hopewilt's mind flipped from panic, back to fury. "You know what? I'm done explaining myself to you. I don't care if you're miserable for the rest of your life- Because all you are is an egotistical, cruel,"