SandClan's Shame

Chapter 6

Firepaw padded through the territory, darkness enveloping her fur. It felt a lot more oppressive than it did before. The darkness was isolating, the shadows covering the entire world, leaving almost no light for her eyes to use to see. She wasn't bumping into things or anything, but it sure was stressful not being able to see the finer details. She kept catching her paws on rocks or scraping her sides on rocks that looked bigger than she thought they were.

She slowly made her way up the Skystone, feeling heavy even though her belly was not yet distended. She crawled up to the top of the stone, flopping. Fennelfang was already there.

"You didn't come last quarter moon," he said, his voice oddly short. "How come?"

"... A lot happened," Firepaw confessed. "My brother got his Warrior Name and that caused some controversy, because me and Gingerpaw didn't," she moaned. "And my mam chased Gingerpaw away."

"Oh..." Fennelfang's expression fell into sadness. "I'm so sorry. Has Gingerpaw returned?"

"No," Firepaw moaned, flattening her ears. "And there's something else. Something that involves you," she said quiely.

Fennelfang perked his ears. "Yes?"

Firepaw didn't know how to broach the topic. "W- well, see... that quarter moon I missed. That was a few days after I... Um. I found out I was... carrying your kits."

Fennelfang was suddenly expressionless. He wore a blank look of curiosity that slowly melted into fear. "What?"

"I'm carrying your kits," Firepaw said quietly. "Remember? We... Um, it was here. We did... that."

Fennelfang suddenly looked as if he had seen a StarClan warrior come down from on high and tell him he was actually a muntjac. He stood up and the fur along his spine bristled.

"I wanted to ask if I could come live in DustClan with you."

Fennelfang bared his teeth. "Absolutely not. Firepaw, this is not what I signed up for. I wanted to bring peace to the Clan. I don't want kits - and I certanly don't want DustClan to know I had kits with you!" 

Firepaw flinched back. "What do you mean?"

"I just wanted to lift you up," he growled. "I just wanted to help, and be your friend. I didn't want to have kits for you, ever! And DustClan doesn't want any SandClan cats!"

Firepaw whimpered. "So what are you saying? What do you want me to do?"

"Stop coming here!" Fennelfang cried out, lashing his tail. "I don't want to see your face ever again! I don't want to see you or your kits!" His claws were digging into the rocks. "If you ever try to contact me again, it better be because all of those disgusting kits died!"

Firepaw nodded. "Okay," she squeaked. "Okay. Okay." She backed up, ready to scramble down and run back to SandClan. Her heart was pounding. She hopped down, feeling sick to her stomach just from that action. As she started climbing down, Fennelfang's shadow fell on her through the moonlight.

"You're disgusting, Firepaw," he called down. "No wonder Hollyfoot's so disappointed."

Firepaw didn't reply. She simply stumbled down to the ground in a numb daze, gasping, her paws sweating. She wanted to go home. She wanted to back up and forget all about this happening. She wanted to go back to when she was two moons old, and Hollyfoot didn't know which kit she preferred. When she and her brothers wrestled and played.

She sobbed harder than she'd ever sobbed in her life on the walk home that night.