Caɾղaցe Ɱօօղ ~𝙰 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌

5 🌙

That night the apprentices were ushered up a tree by Tinypaw's mentor, Houndspots, while Eveningstar and other warriors defended the camp. Riverclan had decided many moons ago, nearly at the start of this onslaught, not to let younger apprentices fight against the wolves. And so Crescentpaw watched with profound disbelief as one wolf branched off, and their leader was cornered into fighting alone. Just like her father had been.

Cornered against a conjoined edge of camp wall, the two animals were nearly completely submerged in shadow. More foilage grew along the camp boundary and overgrown sedge. in Greenleaf it grew in clumps that stretched above the cat's ears in some places. Therefore no one on the ground seemed to notice when she was struck down. The wolf gripped her by the throat; as if she were a mouse- and just like that, Eveningstar went limp like prey.

Soon after, cats started to notice. The warriors wailed and abandoned their defense, swarming up the trees as Eveningstar was ripped apart below.

Despite her half-eaten, bloodied and mangled body, every cat expected her to wake up. And... when she didn't; their anxiety was profound. The survivors in the clan mourned, not knowing what to do without their medicine cat or leader. Eveningstar had been their beloved Star, the only guidance that the clan had left.

"We must recover from this attack. We will sit vigil for Eveningstar tonight... Even without her body." Smallsparrow, the clan deputy, was the first to take charge. The cats around him dissociated, hardly saying a word as they recalled the horrible remains that they could not present for the vigil. Eveningstar's intensities had been strewn out several feet from her torn-open belly; half-chewed into bits. The blood staining that corner of camp was still wet and gleaming against the night grass.

"Tomorrow after Eveningstar's burial we will discuss our options." They had wrapped her in torn-up grass and thick swathes of moss, which were partly blood-soaked. Some cats had retrieved shells from in front of the dens, placing them atop her covered corpse.

But soon after, several cats argued. "Did anyone know she was on her last life?" Emberfawn called, his yellow eyes fiery against the shadow-swamped vegetation. He crouched there with his chest pressed against the peaty earth. "What are we supposed to do now?"

"If Goldenheart doesn't come back then can we even call ourselves a clan anymore? Smallsparrow will have to become leader, and we'll need to appoint another medicine cat by the will of Starclan!" Some other cat yowled in distress.

"Hush. Tomorrow," the Clan deputy murmured, his deep mew sounding tired and resound. Then the cats gathered around a bare patch of earth in the center of camp that had been previously cleared for greenleaf mourning rituals.

Although they could not bear to grieve with Eveningstar's destroyed, half-consumed corpse, the cats stayed in the clearing across the camp from her for most of the night. They mourned her wrapped-up body together, speaking of how quickly her leadership had came and went. The oldest cats in the clan, Alpinefog and QuietDew, were the only ones who had known any other Riverclan leader.

Before dawn came, the warriors lifted her up-or parts of her, and took away the pieces to bury.

Late the next morning, Crescentpaw awoke next to her sister's occupied nests. The tabby-and-white she-cat had slept fitfully. Her littermates had moaned and twictched in their sleeps, but they were snoring away now.

She heard the warrior's discussing something outside, and pricked her ears before emerging. Rowanpaw and Tinypaw began rousing behind her, giving bleary-eyes glances across at one another.

"-send another cat to the Moonpool. It's not safe, I'm telling you! And Starclan's communication is said to be strongest at night; when the stars glitter in the pool, and the moon has activated its powers." Some cat was rambling on as Crescentpaw shouldered her way out of the frond-stemmed opening. She passed the light pink and smooth pearl-white shells that lined the edges of the Apprentices den, trodding the well-worn open path over to the other cats.