Seppuku

Chapter 18

Twistedsky  followed the elders back into the camp.  Late greenleaf sunshine spilled into the clearing through the trees.  It dappled the camp floor and the cat's pelts with lovely sunshine.

Primroseflower skidded to a halt beside the fresh-kill pile, her eyes glowing.  Miststar was plucking a pigeon from the pile.  She nodded to the expecting queen, whom also grabbed another pigeon from the prey pile.  Twistedsky got hungry when he watched them settle down beside a nettle patch, so he trotted into the camp and dug through the pile 'till he found himself a nice lapwing that one of the apprentices had caught.  He'd boasted that he went onto GrassClan's moor and caught it, unseen, but his mentor said it practically flew into his paws on their own side of the border because it had already a damaged wing.  Twistedsky purred with delight, remembering the story.  Nutclaw had taken it a little too far, and had hurt the young cat's feelings a little.  Twistedsky slowly crouched down beside Miststar.  "Do you mind if I...?"

"Sure thing, Twistedsky,"  Miststar purred.  "StarClan's newest tom-warrior."

"I'm not in StarClan yet," Twistedsky purred.  "I think you'd say Nutclaw is the newest tom of StarClan."  Grief prickled through his paws, but he ignored it as it began to jab at his heart.  He had to still enjoy life's qualities!

"Ahh, yes," Miststar murmured.  "A tom StarClan will forever cherish, as we have cherished him."  She tilted her head.  "Can you guess how many lives I have left?"  She seemed to want to change up with the subject a little. 

Twistedsky thought for a moment while chewing his lapwing.  He recalled a few times Miststar had died--he'd heard the elders gossip about that a GrassClan cat had stole three lives from her, but Twistedsky didn't think so.  How could a measly GrassClan tom take three lives from a strong PineClan leader?

But he counted it anyways, in case the elders were right.  He remembered when Miststar had suddenly returned to camp covered in blood a day after Twistedkit had opened his eyes.  He remembered with a soothing feeling him, Badgerkit and Nettlekit chasing Poppypelt's tail around.  She had been a senior warrior when the kits were born.  Sighing, he got caught up in nostalgia.

"Twistedsky?"  Miststar prompted.

"O-oh!  Yeah, right!"  Twistedsky straightened himself and his thoughts. "U-um...maybe you've got four left?"

"Wrong!"  Miststar lashed her tail.  "No.  Doesn't matter.  The amount of lives I have left only concerns Tawnybreeze, I and StarClan.  Not my fellow warriors."  She licked Twistedsky's shoulder.  "Not that I regret having you as a warrior, Twistedsky--"

"I know,"  Twistedsky interrupted.  "I understand."

"Thanks."  Miststar stood up and stretched.  She glanced at the camp entrance.  The bushes quivered and a patrol laden with late greenleaf prey slid into the camp.  "Ohh, good!"  Miststar's eyes sparkled.  "Thats a lot of prey!  There'll be extras come leaf-bare!" she joked, stifling a purr.  Twistedsky lapped up the last of his pigeon and saw Nettleskip with the cats, but there was no sign of Blossomtuft.  He bounded over to his sister.  "Hey, Nettleskip!"  Twistedsky meowed.

Nettleskip dropped a squirrel and two scrawny mice on top of the fresh-kill pile.  She turned to her brother, her eyes blank and emotionless.  "What do you want?"  she asked coolly.

Twistedsky flinched.  Her voice was cold but at the same time so casual... how do you explain it?

"I... was wondering if you'd like to go out by the GrassClan border with me to hunt?" he asked.  "Or just have some brother and sister time.  You know--re-connect old bonds!  And you know Ripplepaw caught an easy lapwing today."

Nettleskip's nose twitched irritably.  "Sorry."  Nettleskip turned away.  "But, no thanks."

Twistedsky felt hurt bursting his heart to flames.  This cold politeness was far worse than his sister yowling at him in rage.  She and Brookmist are so alike, he remarked to himself.  Both are so mean to my change of heart...and--

"Nettleskip!"  Brookmist bounded to the other side of the clearing from the nursery.  Her eyes with huge balls of grief.  "Oh, Nettleskip!  I can't believe it--Nutclaw's dead!"

Nettleskip didn't try to pull away when her mother climbed all over her.  "I know," she murmured.  "I was there for his vigil.  What a brave, and honorable warrior."  Then her gaze flickered towards Twistedsky, then back to her mother.  "Hey, why don't we take a walk by the GrassClan border?  Quite recently heard Ripplepaw caught a lapwing there."

Brookmist sniffed, nodding.

Nettleskip padded along the other side of the Grandwillow, leading her the opposite direction of Twistedsky. 

Twistedsky's heart cracked.  Why did Nettleskip have to just do that? And I was in camp much longer than her; why didn't Brookmist come to me? he thought sadly.  Had his mother just completely abandoned him, too?

~

The forest was dark and shadowy with pines looming over Twistedsky everywhere.  He shrank back, trying to find an opening in the trees.  Having pines loom everywhere over him wasn't exactly a good feeling; a PineClan warrior or not.

Twistedsky took a few paces back.  Suddenly he heard a frog's voice echo, and he jumped.  When he jumped, the pines swirled around him for less than a heartbeat, and then once he landed he realized he was back in the PineClan camp.  He sat, in front of the nursery, beside Badgerstripe. 

"Look!"  Badgerstripe purred.  He raised his paw in front of a white she-kit with gray paws.  "She's so cute!"

The little kit squealed furiously as she tried to catch Badgerstripe's paw.  Ducking, she went into the hunter's crouch. She was at a slight angle; Twistedsky instinctively nosed her upright.  "There you go," he murmured.  "Nice!  You'll make a fine hunter someday."

"Thanks--"  the kit seemed to be cut off.

"Twisted'!" 

"Wha...?" 

Twistedsky slowly lifted his head.  He was lying in the warriors' den, right where he had been.  He glanced through a gap in the bush.  He noticed pale dawn sunlight filtering through the den.

"Dawn patrol, or did you forget?"  Badgerstripe prodded Twistedsky slowly lifted his muzzle.  "Huh..." He stiffened.  "Ah-yeah!" he meowed.  "Are we late?"
"Almost, just hurry up quickly."  Badgerstripe slipped out of the den.

Twistedsky heaved himself to his paws.  What was that dark pine forest?  Curious, but at the same time too bleary to think about it, he stood up and trudged out of the warriors' den, prepared to do nothing but patrol with his closest friend and just let it slip.  What's the use of worrying about a silly ol' dream anyways?

~

Nettleskip padded alongside Brookmist.  "Have you heard?  'Bout Twistedsky?" she asked dully. 

"Yeah."  Brookmist blinked.  Her eyes were blank as if they were staring out beyond the trees.  Her son was so... he wasn't as handsome as he quite used to be...

"Are you supportive?"

"Are you?"  Brookmist slid blindly through a thick patch of ferns alongside her daughter.  "What..."  Her mind was everywhere.

Why were the trees bunched together?

Why were the squirrels living in trees?

Why do rabbits like the tunnels so much?

Why did StarClan let this become a truth?

Nettleskip nudged her, but she still wasn't completely back on track.  "Hmm..."  Taking a moment to think, she meowed, "To have kits and raise a family.  But I don't get such a luxury..."

"What?"  Nettleskip blinked.  "You're weird!"

"I am?  Abnormal?  Strange?  Paranormal?  Disdainful, often?  Thus picky?  Sarcastic?"  Everything was just jumbling into...

one thing.  "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I--"
"Hush, mother--maybe the river by the CreekClan border will calm you down."

What's gotten into me lately? Brookmist thought.