Crimson Stains

Chapter 2

I lay in my nest, ignoring the sounds of cats stirring around me. The first snow of leaf-bare fell a few days ago but I have yet to see it. It's been hard. Since the tragedy of the rogue attack, ten cats have died. So... many. Including the love of my life, and my kits. I cover my nose with my tail and ignore the burning pain in my mangled leg. I stare blankly at the branch walls of the warriors den. Empty nests yet to be cleared away rustle in the icy wind.

What do I even do? The rims of my eyes water slightly. I shift in my nest and look outside for the first time in days. The sun is up, shining against the snow. I turn again and try to sleep, but the sound of paw steps alerts me to someone's entering.

"Wakey wakey, sleepyhead."
It's Spiralpoppy, her voice sleepy. I flatten my ears and attempt to ignore her, even as she tends to the wound on my leg gently.
"Dustedrose has been struggling since Minnowwhisker- well, you know."
She chuckles but I can hear the small cracks in her voice. The silence could be cut with one's claw as she re-wraps my leg.

I turn as Twistedpaw stumbles into the den, the wound across his eye nearly healed.
"Hey you big sad-sack. Inkstar needs all cats who can go out hunting."
He chimes, trying to be cheery. I groan and bury my nose in my paws. Twistedpaw nudged me while Spiralpoppy leans back and watches.
"Sorry Scamperstep, but Dustedrose said you would be able to go."
Twistedpaw dips his head sympathetically.

I hiss and stand for the first time in half a moon. Though I'm leaning forward to avoid putting weight on my leg, I'm still taller than both Spiralpoppy and Twistedpaw. I sit and yawn, then groom the long fur on my chest. As the other two walk out, I follow, shaking my fur out against the cold. The icy wind cuts through my thick fur but I can't bear to sit and think about Floatingcloud any longer.

I dip my head to the new deputy, Quincefall. She dips her head back and nods to Spiralpoppy and Twistedpaw. I follow them out of the camp, keeping my head low. The snow numbs my paws and sticks in clumps on my fur. The burning cold calms me slightly. Snow falls lightly onto my nose and I chuckle as Twistedpaw sneezes. I breathe deeply, enjoying the crisp air. The sound of trees rustles as we walk past.

~~~~~

We soon realize why there hasn't been any prey. The sound of rogues fighting and cats squealing has frightened many small rodents away. Only Spiralpoppy manages to catch something, a meager frail mouse. The icy wind stings my tongue as I taste the air, trying to catch scent of anything. As we drift closer to the river, I hear something. What is that? Is it- no. It couldn't be a kitten. Not in this cold. Is it?

I walk quickly towards the sound, the mewling getting louder. I can tell Spiralpoppy and Twistedpaw hear it too as they follow.
"Oh starclan no, what is a kitten doing out here in leaf-bare?" Spiralpoppy trots over, looking across the icy river towards a cavern. A small dirty kitten lays on the stone, ice sticking to its fur. It's mewling is weak and desperate.

I sniff the rock near the river, dried blood staining it. I look down the river, spotting more blood against the rocks under the ice. What on earth happened here? I wonder as I smell the tufts of fur stuck in the ice. A she-cat. She must've been the mother. Spiralpoppy begins carefully walking on the ice, figuring a way across the wide flooded river.

I stand next to her, as Twistedpaw hops around on the ice. "I could just jump across real quick! There are rocks across the river!" He chimes, going for a leap to the first rock. Spiralpoppy runs to stop her apprentice but it's too late. Our hearts skip a beat as he lands and turns to look at us, his claws digging into the thin ice on the rock.

"Look! See? I told you I could do it!" He chirps cheerily. "Twistedpaw! Never do that again! Ask first! Please!" Spiralpoppy begs her apprentice, desperation in her voice. She pauses, "but- I'm glad you're okay. Go get the kitten, please." She dips her head, trying to show her pride.

He quickly dashes across the rest of the rocks, never slipping despite his blind eye. As he approaches the kitten, he sniffs it. "She's cold! I'm not sure she'll make it back to camp." He yells back to us. His voice is grim. Spiralpoppy looks down with sorrow and replies, "Don't worry about it, bring her across the river."

Twistedpaw returns swiftly, kit in jaw. Her fur is plastered with mud and her paws are stiff. Her ears appear to be frozen at the tips. She mewls softly as Twistedpaw hands her to me to warm her with my fur. I swallow my emotions and take her, what do we do now?