Pure - A Warriors Murder Mystery

Chapter One

Breezepelt awoke in the medicine den and stretched, wincing a bit. His recent injuries from a badger attack still stung, despite the fresh poultices the medicine cat had applied the day before. Carefully, Breezepelt walked out of the den, squinting at the bright sunlight. 

Immediately, Nightcloud scurried to Breezepelt's side, licking him all over and bombarding him with questions. 

"I'm fine, Nightcloud," Breezepelt grumbled, nudging past his mother. 

He gathered with the rest of his clanmates around the deputy, Ashfoot, listening as she called out patrols. "We'll have two hunting patrols, Leaftail and Dewspots will go hunting with their apprentices, and Harepring will lead the other hunting patrol, with Willowclaw and Swallowpaw. Emberfoot and Sunpaw, you can patrol the ThunderClan border with," she paused, scanning the crowd, "Breezepelt." 

Breezepelt quickly located the gray tom and his cheerful tortoiseshell apprentice. 

He glanced around the camp quickly, looking for Heathertail, but he didn't see his friend anywhere. Assuming she was on patrol, Breezepelt walked out of the camp with the others on his patrol. 

Breezepelt listened to Emberfoot telling his apprentice about the territory, and showing her the best hunting spots along their route. Breezepelt started to tune it out, though, and just focused on his surroundings, and the sights and smells around him. The grasses seemed to dance around him, and the stream rippled in the wind. But... what was that smell?

Blood?

Sunpaw paused to get a drink from the stream, but immediately recoiled. "Yuck! The water tastes weird!"

"What do you mean, tastes weird? I'm sure it's nothing!" Breezepelt paused to lap up some water. "That's strange. It tastes like... like blood!" 

Emberfoot glanced back at the cats, and meowed, "I'm sure it's nothing. Just a dead rabbit, maybe. Let's keep moving."

The cats continued along the stream, Emberfoot leading the way, when Sunpaw meowed, "Why is the stream red?"

"Just a dead animal. Nothing to worry about," Emberfoot reassured her. 

Breezepelt glanced at Emberfoot nervously, since they both knew that a rabbit wouldn't bleed that much. 

A few moments later, Sunpaw cried out again. "Look! ThunderClan warriors! And they're in the stream!" 

Breezepelt looked and realized that there were four ThunderClan warriors belly-deep in the stream, dragging something out of the water. 

"What do you think they're doing?" Breezepelt asked. 

"I don't know, but we shouldn't worry about it. ThunderClan cats are weird."

"Is that a body?" Sunpaw asked. 

"No, of course not! Don't be ridiculous!" Emberfoot meowed. 

"That's a body," Breezepelt hissed to Emberfoot. 

"Fox dung!" Emberfoot grumbled. 

"Emberfoot, Breezepelt, come on! I want to see what they're doing!" Sunpaw ran ahead, towards the ThunderClan cats and the body. 

Breezepelt trotted after, hearing Emberfoot sigh beside him. 

"What are you doing?" Sunpaw asked the ThunderClan cats. 

The ThunderClan cats, who were Brackenfur, Hollyleaf, Brightheart, and Dustpelt, were busy dragging a gray, bloodied, lump of fur out of the stream. 

Brightheart looked up at the WindClan apprentice curiously, and calmly meowed, "We found a body in the stream this morning. I think it's Ashfur, but Hollyleaf disagrees. She's convinced that this is Emberfoot of WindClan." 

"Emberfoot is with us. He's right over there," Sunpaw gestured with her tail towards Emberfoot.

"You're right, it is Ashfur," Hollyleaf meowed, calmly examining the body.

"He was a good cat, and I will miss him," Brackenfur meowed, hoisting the water-logged body of Ashfur onto his back. He staggered beneath the weight of wet fur. 

"Do you need any help?" Brightheart asked. Brackenfur refused. 

The fur along Breezepelt's spine ruffled. Something wasn't right here. Something just... looked off. 

It was Sunpaw who noticed first. "If the stream runs that way," she gestured with her tail back towards the lake, "then why is there still blood flowing towards us?"

Breezepelt's eyes widened, and Emberfoot gasped. "Oh no! We have to see!" Emberfoot raced off, following the trail of blood-filled water. 

Please don't be Heathertail, please don't be Heathertail, please don't be Heathertail! That was the only thought running through Breezepelt's head, over and over, in an endless loop. 

Time.

Stood.

Still.

Water-soaked fur. 

Close your eyes. It's not real.

Gaping neck wound.

Inhale.

Just breathe.

One.

Crimson bloodstains on a pale chest.

Two.

Pale tabby fur bloodied and disheveled.

Three.

Face frozen in an expression of confusion and fear.

Four.

Eyes begging, pleading, for mercy. 

Exhale.

Then came the terror. The panic. The sadness. The guilt. It all came crashing in at once. 

Stay calm. Just breathe.

But why?

Why bother?

Heathertail.

Was.

Gone.