HeronFlight's Mistake

Where's mum?

Even in the next coming moons of Heronkit's life, He never seemed to fully understand his mother was gone. Buried before he even got to really meet her and his questions were painful reminders of the seemingly mysterious death.  

"Rainpaw, were'd my mum go?" his tiny squeak echoed around the chilled medical den, the leafbear bite seeping into anything it could and seemed to keep the dens freezing until late greenleaf. The grey feline winced as she always did when he asked and never could she find it in her gentle heart to tell the small brute that his mother was killed. How do you explain that to a 4 moon old kit anyway? Many had hoped Darkpelt would have explained Snowpelt's sudden absence to him but he seemed to have pushed Heronkit as far away as he could, babying Blossomkit in turn as if she were his only kit. In a way, after Spruce's encounter with him, Blossomkit really WAS his only kit left though no one knew this. He was protecting what he could and Heron hadn't made the list no matter his innocence. 

"She went to see her father and her sister Heron, you'll see her again some day," The grey feline cooed lovingly as she turned away from her duties to face him. As always, his gaze had drifted from Rainpaw to dozens of herbs lining the den. Sometimes, if he really tried, he could still smell his mother's floral smell in his moss and the soft honey aroma that went with it. It soothed the brute when he awoke with nightmares of the snowy queen being killed by a shadow cat. 

"Will she be back soon? I miss her laying with me when Darkpelt and Blossomkit play now that Cherrypaw and Cloudpaw have moved out of the den," the kit went on with a sigh. Rainpaw heaved a sigh as well, feeling as if she was betraying the kit by not telling him about his mother but Dark had insisted with raw angry the male was never to mention Snowpelt to anyone. He believed it was the same shadow cat who had appeared to claim Heron that had ended up killing Snowpelt. In a sense, he blamed his son for his mate's murder although that was mainly from grief, or so Rainpaw and Echowhisker hoped. If not he had a rather lonely life ahead him. 

"But now you have Mistedkit, Mothkit, Mousekit and Frecklekit to keep you company!" the grey feline pointed out with a grin. Moonsong had showed up to the camp two moons back with the small brown tabby bundle in his maw, looking proud to have found the poor kit half frozen. Heron had jumped at the chance to get to know the tom but Frecklekit had brushed off his attempts, keeping to himself mostly. Likewise for OliveFrost who had found Mousekit half drowned in the river and the assumption was made that his parents, whoever they had been, had grown tired of the alabaster tom-kit and decided it best to kill him. Luckily he survived and had grown rather fond of Heron in his three moons in the camp. Mothkit had been born only two moons after Heron to Hazel but sadly she had been exiled on accounts of betrayal and Moth was left with her father, CrowTooth who loved the small cream shecat to death. She too had gotten to know Heron but spent a majority of her time with Frecklekit, her being the only cat he had come to trust next to Moonsong. 

"I know but right now everyone is being groomed by their mum's or Mothkit's case, her dad but Dark is always to busy checking Blossom for tangles that he never gets around to me," The kit went on, inspecting his tangle-free fur before looking back at Rainpaw. Thankfully, Frostfoot, Mistedkit's mother, had taken to grooming the russet brute in order to keep his fur neat and tidy like the other kits. Although most people seemed to try, it was close to impossible to ignore the motherless kit when grooming time came about every evening. 

"Go get some rest. Young kits should be snuggled in their nests before the evil badgers come into camp to look for stragglers as yourself," The deep voice came from Moonsong as the silver hued male stepping into the den, a flash of pity crossing his features at the sight of the frail kit but Heron was gone in a flash, his orbs wide in innocent fear. The two cats watched him run off and only looked away when his tail had disappeared into the safety of the den.

"What ARE we going to do with him," Moonsong sighed looking to the grey feline who simply returned the sigh. twilight fell swiftly over the sleeping camp, as it always did, bringing eerie call of a lone owl somewhere in the distance and the pale glow of the moon. It was peaceful as it always was but what the sleeping clan was not expecting was an attack. The neighboring Tribe had made their way to the mouth of the camp, swift and silent as the river that gurgled through it. Mousekit had been a kit of theirs, his mother having died of greencough and his father having drowned. They were determined to keep his bloodline alive within their Tribe and their only way of doing this was to find the kit and steal him back. they filed into the space silently, their orbs flashing in the near blackness of the shadows, lean bodices turning to fit through every narrow passage to near the nursery. As if awaiting a signal they froze and looked to the entrance patiently with unblinking eyes. 

"SHADECLAN ATTACK!" the battle call was clear as it rang out from Hailstar's den were the enraged male stood with his grey hued mate at his side. The warriors streaked from their dens, pelts fluffed and fangs glittering. The two forces collided like two rocks striking one another with speed and energy. For a group of half-awake cats, they fought as if they'd been awake for ages. A lean female broke apart from her attack in vain, her right audit torn and bleeding as she made for the nursery. Screams of angry filled the night as the kits cowered behind Frostfoot and Echomist, the two females hissing and spitting at the female as she pushed through the den. 

"BE GONE!" Frostfoot screeched, backing further to keep the kits roped against the wall. The feline grinned, doing and swift head-count of the kits. Mousekit, Mothkit, Mistedkit and Frecklekit hissed and spat from behind the queens but the absence of redish fur caught the felines attention. Although Mousekit was their priority  of the raid, Heronkit's capture had come to question though they were unaware of Dark's neglect of the kit. He would be more of a barging tool to be used to get Mousekit back. As the feline opened her maw to offer a bitter word, a flash of red altered her and she turned her head swiftly only to feel the sting of tiny claws raking her muzzle. Heronkit had pounced at his attack in blind rage and had opened four shallow but painful marks on her muzzle. She shook him off firmly, aware of the retreating thunder of paws out of the camp. The Tribe was fleeing into the darkness of the forest with the yowling warriors close on their heels. The feline threw the russet male into the den wall, her apex flicking him off bluntly before she joined the retreat. The male squeaked as he hit the wall, a sharper point raking his cheek as he fell until he was square on his stomach in a heap. 

"Oh good StarClan Heronkit please be alright," Echomist gasped, rushing forward. The small brute had gone against everything he had been told only to attempt to drive off his attacker in rage. The silver queen nosed him to his paws swiftly, looking the cut over before rushing him into the clearing. Bloodied cats lined the clearing as warriors washed their fur until it was no longer streaked crimson. They payed little regard to the male as the frantic queen guided him, uttering death threats under her breath. 

"Who hurts a kit," she seethed but the male pulled away from her causing her to turn her head sharply and look at him. The moonlight lit his fur as if he were he a dying ember and she blinked at the painful memory of Snowpelt who had looked the same way. 

"I'm fine Echomist really. I'll live its just a scratch," He muttered and bounded back to the den quickly. The queen was shocked. She had expected him to be a wailing mess like Blossomkit had been when she fell from a tree but rather, he seemed fine. She shook her head, deciding to leave the kit and deal with it when there was sunlight as she made her way up to her and Hailstar's den with a skeptic glance at the nursery before slumping through the entrance. 

No one was awake to see the grinning shadow outside the camp entrance as Spruce regarded to scene. As he had hoped, Heronkit was already swallowing his pain and fear. Soon enough that would build inside until it came out in bursts that he would learn to control and use as energy to fight. Spruce's plan was to turn him into the mindless killer he was rather then waste the potential in the kit. He was already a quarter of the way to it now, seeing as none of his blood family seemed to care for him at this point in time. The shadow cat flexed his claws impatiently. How he longed to feel blood on them once more, especially seeing the return of his son which caused his blood to boil threateningly in his veins. He had led the male astray through a dream and had hoped so viciously the kit would freeze but no avail. He turned silently and moved away from the camp with a grin. Soon enough he would have bloodshed and soon enough he would have war. The thought delighted and excited him. Soon enough he would have the russet flame in his grasp and soon enough, He would rule the forest through him.