WARRIORS : Calling Darkness [Book 1] Swept Away

Chapter 10

       The wind swept a cold breeze rustling through the treetops. Leaf-bare was nearly upon the Clans. The last brown leaves parted with their branches, buffeted and pushed by the swirling wind.
       The day was drawing to an end, the sun hidden behind the hills of the moorland. Orange faded into gray on the horizon, promising that darkness would come quickly. The cats of ThunderClan were gathered in camp under their leader's call.
        Dapplestar stood addressing her Clan, dappled fur puffed up against the cold, and blue eyes shadowed. She stood over a small weak kit's body, who was cold and stiff. Dapplestar dipped her head to touch the orange kit briefly with her nose, before lifting her head to speak.
       "Spikekit was a lively little tom-kit," Dapplestar's voice was soft. "He was headstrong and brave; he would have made a fine apprentice and warrior after. ThunderClan will miss him dearly."
        Watching from the crowd, Tigerpaw could feel her stomach flop at the sight of Spikekit's small frail body. A black and white cat stepped out of the crowd, holding lavender in her jaws.
     Patchwish lay the herb down gently beside Spikekit. Tigerpaw knew it was to mask the scent of death. She reflected on how the little kit would bounce around camp, showing off his fighting skills. She remembered comforting the poor kit when he had been attacked by the fox, and how Redwater had chased it off, saving Spikekit's life. But it wasn't enough; Spikekit had died a day later from shock and loss of blood.
         Tigerpaw couldn't understand it; the kit's wounds hadn't been serious or life threatening, but Patchwish had simply explained that extreme shock can kill a cat as easily as wounds.
      Now Tigerpaw watched as a pale ginger cat padded up Spikekit's body, her body quivering. Goldenlight lay down next to her son, lapping gently at his fur. Onemoon padded up, laying his tail over his mate's shoulders, gazing down sadly at his lost son.
       Two kits came bundled into the circle of cats, wailing with confusion. Tigerpaw's heart wrenched. A what she-cat came trotting after them, belly swollen with unborn kits.
      The pale gray tom-kit looked around in confusion and despair. "Where's Spikekit? Hasn't he gotten better?"
       The ginger kit with gray splotches shook her head. "Spikekit isn't going to get better is he?"
         Frostdaisy tried to herd the kits back towards the nursery, but they pulled away, peering around their parents.
       Heronkit, the tom kit, let out a wail of despair. "Spikekit!" He dashed over to his brother's side, "Spikekit, wake up!"
        Streamkit padded over to her brother, eyes glazed with sadness. She stroked Spikekit's fur with her tail. "He can't," she whispered.
       Tigerpaw's world seemed to spin; she could feel the pain for this family as if it were her own. Poor kits! Spikekit hadn't even started his life before it had been ended. Tigerpaw swallowed the lump in her throat. StarClan called him, it must have been his time.
       As much as Tigerpaw tried to reassure herself, she could still feel the wretched feeling of pain in her heart. He was so young. I should have gotten to know Spikekit better; I should have played with him everyday until his last.
       As Tigerpaw watched the family hover over their lost member, Tigerpaw felt her eyes start to water. She felt a soft tail embrace her, and she turned to lean into Firefeather's soft ginger fur. She gazed up into her mentor's blue eyes, who smiled comfortingly down at her.
      Tigerpaw locked gazes with her mother, Ravenflower. The white she-cat looked at her with sadness in her eyes, but something else as well. Was that pride Tigerpaw found reflecting in Ravenflower's amber eyes? Surely not; how could her mother be proud of her in a moment like this?
     Looking around, she spotted her father, Speckleblotch, who's eyes were gazing at Spikekit, full of pity. Tigerpaw closed her eyes, pressing against her mentor once more. But before she had closed her eyes, Tigerpaw locked gazes with a cat sitting in the shadows under the rock cleft.
        Tigerpaw turned away quickly, shivering, but the image of the cold blue eyes bore into her memory like a dark freezing storm.