(Outdated) Warriors: Clouded Skies #2 - Frost

Chapter Seventeen

Numb.

That's all Rowanpaw felt as he stared at the dead body of Emberheart, her sightless gaze clouding over as she stared into nothing. Every muscle in Rowanpaw's body was tensed, locked in place. Even his whiskers didn't twitch as he stared at her body, his breath shaking and uneven.

Gone. The only thing running through his head. Gone. Gone. Gone. His heart was shattered into countless pieces, and inside of him a storm of darkness was swirling, growing and swelling in his grief. But no sign of his inner turmoil showed in his gaze. His eyes were completely blank, only showing a terrible, overwhelming mix of sadness and anger.

Finally, his thoughts strayed from the repeat of the word "gone,", and instead filled with something worse: StarClan is at fault. In that instant, Rowanpaw swore hate against the dead cats. They had taken everything from him. First Sparkkit, barely a kit, died because they allowed a storm to take the pine forest; then they caused Emberheart's sudden, weak kitting by taking Heronclaw.

Rowanpaw had only ever truly loved three cats in his life: Sparkkit, Emberheart, and Blazepaw. They had taken two of those cats from him. How long until they decided to take his brother as well? Was that when they would finally be done? Or would they continue to take away the cats he cared for less, but still kept close to him? Would they destroy his Clan, taking more and more cats until there wasn't enough to survive? How long until they took him, as well?

Maybe I should beat them to it, he thought grimly, for a moment forgetting why he was so full of rage.

But his eyes then once again rested on the paling body of the cat he loved most besides his brother, and once again another wave of grief flooded him. Suddenly, every problem and discrepancy he had ever experienced, big or small, was StarClan's fault; his mother leaving him as a tiny kit, Sparkkit's death, the dirty water in their territory, the lack of prey, the random deaths of Clanmates, the random chance of running into Rohan, the reappearance of his mother, the death of Violet, the death of Heronclaw, and finally, most importantly, the heart-breaking loss of dear Emberheart. Even more problems came to mind, and even if it made no sense, he managed to link it back to StarClan.

He was sure of it now:

StarClan was against him, and they were against BatClan.

Every moment he still breathed, every step he took alive, StarClan would be waiting for him to die.

But he would not give in, he would not give them the satisfaction of breaking him.

He would keep his Clan alive, no matter what it took. No more cats would starve while he was in the Clan. If he had to steal from another territory, so be it. If he had to kill to protect a Clanmate... So be it. Any cat that stood in his way would be going down. No matter who they were. He wouldn't lose Blazepaw, or this little kit right in front of him.

He finally removed his gaze from Emberheart, down to the mewling, wiggling shape of the parentless kit. It's tiny pink nose searched the air for milk, and automatically began to crawl towards Rainsong, who was as silent as any cat. The kit's movements faltered, and she lay still, weak and tired.

Instantly, Rowanpaw was in action. His grief was pushed aside just enough to take care of the only thing he had left of Emberheart. "Raingsong, take care of her?" he said quietly. The she-cat looked surprised, like she was in her own mind, but then nodded quickly.

"Forever," she promised in a whisper.

His legs feeling weak, Rowanpaw went to the small kit and lifted it in his jaws by its tiny scruff, and set it down next to Flintkit, who was only the tiniest bit bigger than her. After a moment, her small head raised and she began to suckle. Rainsong pulled her in close, then curled around the two kits protectively.