how the mighty fall ❧ // warrior cats

INTERLUDE IV

     After politely sitting Thornwing's vigil at Clay's insistence (his brother is adapting to Clan customs like a fish in a stream), Coal plans to take a long, restful nap. His brother, though, is still wide awake despite his lack of sleep, and the brown tabby tom paces back and forth in his nest. "I saw Streamheart go out last night, but she didn't come back. That isn't normal," he says.

     "Maybe she wanted some privacy," Coal grunts, pulling his moss closer. Maybe, maybe there's enough to bury his head in it for some peace and quiet...and no such luck. The scraps, while significantly more abundant than the meager nest he was first afforded in ShadeClan, are not enough to block out Clay's anxious chatter. Nothing Coal says can soothe his brother's nerves, and Clay seems fresh out of ideas on how to distract himself. Not to mention he is clearly incapable of sleep.

     "I'll go watch for her, then," Coal finally growls, flicking a small ball of moss at his brother's nose. "Get some sleep, and I'll come get you when she's back." With that, he stalks out of the den to lie beneath one of the pines. The needles aren't nearly as comfy as moss, but they make a soft enough bed, and the black tom positions himself to face the camp entrance, eyes half-lidded. He can feel himself dozing, breaking his promise to keep watch, but the camp is busy and Clay has energy. Sooner or later, Streamheart will return, and his brother will learn of it.

     But it suddenly strikes Coal that Stonetail is absent, too. He has not seen her emerge from the medicine den, and her nest was cold from disuse when he entered the warriors' den after Thornwing's vigil. Craning his neck to peer past the elders performing the final death rites over Thornwing's golden form, Coal strains to see into the medicine den. From this angle, nothing is clear.

     He does not have to wait long for an answer to his concern, though, as movement at the camp entrance catches his eye. Forcing himself into an upright position, he watches as a grey tabby backs slowly into the camp. It's Stonetail, of course, and beyond her, he can see Streamheart's head. They carry something between them, something heavy, and only when Coal rises to his feet, prepared to offer his help, does he see what they bear through the log tunnel.

     Thrushpaw slumps to the ground between them, slit open from top to bottom.

     Coal's vision swims. For a brief second, there is a raging river between him and Thrushpaw, whose pelt looks black as night. When she screams for him to run, to protect his brother, while Stonetail hovers over her with blazing yellow eyes, he whips his head around. His mother's voice seems to come from all sides, yet there is no one there, and when he looks back, he sees only plain Thrushpaw, flanked on either side by Streamheart and Stonetail as they lift her body again and solemnly approach the center of camp.

     The wails begin to go up as more cats realize what the two warriors have brought home. They ease Thrushpaw's body to the ground next to her brother's, and Stonetail collapses beside the little apprentice with her head bowed. Streamheart says something to her friend, something inaudible, and turns away as if to head to Greystar's den, but Coal finds that he is already on his feet, then halfway there, then nodding and flicking his ears at the silver tabby to turn her back. "I'll tell her," he offers impulsively. "Go sit."

     There is a second of hesitation on Streamheart's part, but she looks over her shoulder only once before deciding that right now, her place is beside her best friend. Coal sighs, avoids looking at Thrushpaw's wound, and hurries to Greystar's den, squeezing inside without announcing himself.

      "There's an emergency," he says when Greystar's pale eyes lock onto him in the dark. "Thrushpaw is dead."

     Silence fills the den, but the vague outline of Greystar rises, and she stares coolly at him, as if she is unmoved. Is that his imagination, though, or have her broad shoulders sagged? In the dark, with his eyes still adjusting, he cannot say for certain.

     "And?" she asks when Coal does not move out of her way.

     He hesitates, tail ducking between his legs, before dropping his gaze. The ShadeClan leader is difficult to look in the eye, especially with what he is about to say.

     "And when you see what happened, I'd like to speak with you. In private."

     After a long moment, Greystar nods and pushes past him to deal with the new tragedy. "Meet me back here," she says over her shoulder, "and we'll talk."

      Coal doesn't bother to follow, instead taking a seat on the cool ground to wait, forgoing the moss pushed against the den's side. His stomach twists into knots, and he wishes in vain once again that moss could block out sound the moment Morningfur's anguished cries ring out.

     "We stayed too long," he says to the empty den. And then he silently resolves to tell Greystar everything he knows. After that, it will be time to leave.