Warrior Cats: Fallen Leaves

3 The First Victim

Last Updated: February 19 2018

After leaving kit supervision with Dewfeather, Russetdawn padded swiftly after Wheatkit as he scampered into the nursery, past Pebblekit. A few moments later, she heard an almost inaudible cry of rage and sorrow. Curious, she crouched down and parted a few branches of wood that bordered the CreekClan nursery. A sharp twinge of pain erupted from her paw; a loose splinter had lodged itself in one of her grey pawpads. She roughly yanked it out, and spat out a few spatters of blood.
"Fish-brains!" she cursed, licking her pawpad clean. Great. Now she would have to lecture Blueripple about thorough splinter-checks for the dens. No cat liked such acts, neither did Russetdawn, but someone had to ensure kit safety. What if it had been Rosekit? Stormkit? Paw throbbing, she then peered through the tiny crack she had made, listened intently to what the cats inside were saying. Only there wasn't any conversations to listen to. The nursery had been plunged into silence.
All because of a splinter, I have no idea whether they Knew.
Hissing in frustration, Russetdawn stalked inside the nursery, tail lashing stray reed fronds. As soon as she stomped in, Wheatkits' head shot up from Mousefern's belly. The yellow sop of sorrow expressed a dull, angry emotion. "Oh. It's Her." So he started to talk, huh?
Russetdawn narrowed her yellow eyes and growled back. "It's Him."
His blue eyes avoided her gaze after that.
"Anyway," she mewed slyly, prodding Wheatkit several times in the back, "Why aren't you next, next to Mousefern, Wheatie? Come on, get closer to her. She's your loving mother!"
"Don't call me that," He mewled, a perfect opening. Time for Russetdawn to prepare him.
"Why not?" She prodded Him a bit harder this time.
"Russetdawn. I would stop if I were you." Mousefern leered.
The red queen ignored her as Wheatkit gaped his tiny pink mouth, "Because I don't want you to!"
"No cat said that this was about what anyone wanted to do. Therefore, I shall continue."
She promptly jabbed one sharp, unsheathed claw at Wheatkit and he let out a squeal of pain. Russetdawn flicked her tail, successful. Now he should counter attack instinctively, as Stormkit would. But as expected, Mousefern snarled viciously and flipped Russetdawn onto her back. The red she-cat allowed herself to be pinned down harshly; despite Mousefern's sweet, shy appearance, she could be a ferocious fighter when she wanted to be. Aching bruises from apprenticehood were remembered.
"Leave my kit alone, you cruel piece of fox-dung! If you do that again, I won't be afraid to claw your liver out!" the silver cat growled.
"Harsh as always, Mousefern," Russetdawn trilled, "Say, do you remember 'bloody season'? The time when countless cats got hurt by our 'secrets'? Unless you want more word to spread out, it would be wise to release me, yes?"
Heh. This should get her.
As expected, Mousefern's green eyes grew wide with shock, "How dare you bring that up, crow-"
Her reply was cut off by a sharp hiss from Birchflower. Both of the she-cats glanced at the other queen.
"Russetdawn, even though you are a senior warrior of the Clan, you have no right to be hurting a kit as young as Wheatkit. You're lucky because of that I won't be reporting you," Her aged mentor towered above Russetdawn, gave her a hard stare. Rock hard. "As my past apprentice, I am appalled at your behaviour. No wonder your kits are so disobedient! Hawkstar would not be proud. It states in the warrior code that you should never hurt a kit as young as six moons old. Wheatkit is only two. There is a big difference there, Russetdawn."
"I didn't physically injure him. He just felt a small pain, that's all," Russetdawn pointed out, watching Wheatkit huddle closer to Birchflower, "He needs to learn how to defend himself."
"He's not an apprentice yet!" Mousefern spat, sending droplets of saliva all over her muzzle. Disgusting.
"Russetdawn!" Whiskers twitched on Birchflower's graying muzzle, "How can you say such a thing?"
"It's not my fault He is an attraction for problems." Russetdawn flicked her ear casually. A breeze whipped through her fur from the entrance. "Can't you see what I'm doing might save his life one day?"
"You show no respect for anycat, do you, Russetdawn?" Mousefern continued, her tail bristling with anger. Yes, ignoring Russetdawn's, however unruly, but simple logic. There is a moral in the cruelest of deeds, her mother once told her. She burned in BirchClan forests, abandoned by family.
"Correction," Russetdawn bared her fangs, temper flashing, "I show no respect for any cat that I feel doesn't deserve any respect."
Mousefern glared at her with an odd look, and slowly retracted her paws from Russetdawn's throat. She turned around and rested her tail on Wheatkits' shoulder before leading him outside. "I'm not wasting my time on an atrocious cat like you! If you dare go near my Wheatkit again, I swear by StarClan, I will slice you open myself!"
"Fine by me," Russetdawn replied, indifferent. "I would do the same for my own kin..." she added in a murmur. She licked her chest fur as a swelling love almost overcame her thoughts of her kits, and Hawkstar. Her lifeblood. Loving family that couldn't replace the memory her mother's traitorous ones.
Grandmother... And the fact that no cat survived nightcough. Over the moons, it had affected her, she knew, that constant worry for a queens' kits. It felt like when she couldn't feel the ground while swimming. It trapped her in all its itchy, pressing thorns. Perhaps that was why she had such a bad-temper. At least she didn't moon over past losses like Mousefern.
"So," she purred, "you aren't going report me, Birchflower? Why? No need to give a response. I think us queens know the answer to that question."