•???'s POV•
A silver she-cat walked along the shore, pacing the snow-powdered sand thoughtfully. Waves rolled and crashed hungrily at the grains of sand and snow almost soundlessly; the bubbly white foam of the clash between water and sand brimming at the edge of the surface, then receding like cats who have lost a battle. The roar of a distant waterfall soothed Brookpaw, although she couldn't help but feel uneasy from the disappearance of her mentor.
Wavestar had promised her a new mentor before nightfall, but they were running short of options due to lack of warriors eligible for the task. She ceased pacing as she perceived a loud, yet distant screech to the north. A ShadowClan cat?
•Wolfsoul's POV•
Wolfsoul felt blood soak his paw as Bearstar elicited a painful screech; the leader's voice was raw with agony and despair as his eyes glazed with hatred.
The dark tom felt a stab of guilt and regret as he watched his leader lose a life. He felt as if he'd been struck with a thousand sharp claws as he stood, riveted to the ground. For a moment he shook in fear he'd be killed by the leader once he returned from the life-losing trance. But after a moment, he realized, Bearstar showed no sign of resuscitation.
That was his last life. The words screamed inside the dark tabby's head. He quickly leapt away from his former leader's body, his expression blank. He expected Bearstar would have been killed by the rogues anyway at this rate, but the last thing he expected was to do it himself. Wolfsoul trembled.
"Traitor!" A feminine voice broke out from behind; it was Dovefrost. Wolfsoul whirled around. His eyes widened as the word traitor rung in his ears. The white tabby she-cat leaped forward with outstretched claws. Wolfsoul dodged to one side and hissed. Dovefrost lashed out with one paw and raked her claws along his side. The dark tabby seethed, swiping his claws across her muzzle. She thrashed her paw down on his neck, pinning Wolfsoul against the ground. "I am leader now," she hissed intimidatingly. "Get out."
Why had she given him a chance to live? Wolfsoul scrambled to his paws and fled through the falling snow. Coldness bit at his pelt as he waded through the marsh that was once his home. He stumbled over a rock, painfully tripping chin-first against the damp, cold ground; his hinds falling forward just above his head. The dark tabby's breath was knocked out of him as he choked momentarily, a thin strand of blood dripping down his jaw from impact. He dropped his hinds on the ground and painfully stood up to drag himself further until he was sure he had left the territory. He could only see the ivory snow piling ahead for thousands of fox-lengths, quickly reducing what was left of his confidence. Curling up under a bare tree, Wolfsoul let himself uncomfortably drift off to sleep. The last thing he heard was the steady roaring of the falls from afar.
•Brookpaw's POV•
The moon was a curved claw against the brilliantly dazzling sky. Wavestar's tail flicked as she gracefully bounded up the Highrock. A few curious and contrited glances flicked to the leader as Wavestar threw her head back and yowled for a Clan meeting. Most of the cats seemed uneasy and frightened by the abrupt call as they padded into the clearing and ensconced.
"There is an apprentice in need of a mentor after a recent, undeciphered tragedy." Her ocean-blue gaze flickered toward Brookpaw and back to the crowd. "Brookpaw, please step up." The apprentice's ear flicked before she ascended the Highrock. "There have not been many options, and I have been pondering the answer." Brookpaw saw the leader's gaze slowly direct to another cat that she couldn't see; they were piled on either side with multiple cats, and she was diagonal to them. The scents of the cats spun in her mind, and she found it a great difficulty to pinpoint one from another. "I, Wavestar, call upon our warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice." There seemed to be a pause of hesitation in the wise she-cat's eyes before she stated clearly: "Brookpaw, your new mentor will be Shallowstream."
•Wolfsoul's POV•
Wolfsoul awoke to the steady chirping of birds. He felt panic flow through him as he felt the softening snow beneath him instead of the lush moss bed that he slept in for so long. I was banished, he reminded himself darkly as he began to sink back into the snow, tension replaced with contempt. He heaved himself up and noticed a dead squirrel lying in front of him. His ears perked as he leaned forward to see if he could scent who had killed it. He couldn't identify the faint whiff; most of it was overtaken by the snow that covered some of it. This must have been caught a while ago. he thought.
He took a last cautious sniff before diving in. Wolfsoul hadn't realized how ravenous he'd been until he felt the crunch of the meat and the waft of fresh blood filling his nostrils.
As he finished his meal, he began to wonder why any cat would do this for him. He pushed the thought away and began to wander around in the neverending swirls of snow.
