" malice shall corrupt reality,
and turn blood on blood
for a rotting wait of revenge "
There is the Star Realm, a place for cats who have served out of pure loyalty and benevolence, and the Dark Realm, a resting place for those who served out of t...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-❂-
No matter how many times Lynxpaw glanced at Marshleap's body, she could not seem to determine his murderer. She had examined him alongside Nightfrost for any tufts of fur or other wounds, though they fully understood that he was brutally murdered by a set of claws or fangs. The pair even glanced over the mouse's deceased form for any fur or signs of other cats in contact with it, yet there was no evidence to be found.
It was obvious that Cottonstar already lost hope in them, the leader demanding for Marshleap's body to be buried the other night after the ceremony. The leader was sticking with his verdict, not even bother to contact the medicine cat's and view their progress. Even if he had conversed with them, Nightfrost and Lynxpaw had little to offer but the fact that Hawkpaw delivered the mouse to Marshleap that night.
The body may have been taken from their den but it already left the area flooded with a putrid scent. Lynxpaw could only imagine how dreadful Daisytuft and Nightfrost's experience sleeping in the den last night had been. Now with their time limit approaching, the medicine cat's had to flare the foul scent through their nostrils and swallow their complaints, instead only scrunching up their muzzles in disgust.
Nightfrost managed to speak to several members of their clan after the ceremony yesterday, but no answers were gained. All of them spoke of how they were asleep at the time of Marshleap's passing or how they could not recall what patrol returned with the mouse. Lynxpaw could not blame them, for the fresh-kill pile was filled with dead mice and every patrol tended to return with at least two. Mice were an easy hunt to succeed with afterall.
Now with Hawkpaw's fate in their paws, the two medicine cats paced in circles within their den. Lynxpaw felt as if she was stumbling over sharp, vertical stones, her paw pads aching and stress rippling through her body. Her head throbbed as thoughts spiraled wildly in the depths of her mind, the molly struggling to comprehend the murder and arrive at a conclusion. Hope eased from between her claws and burnt to ashes that were carried off by the breeze. Lynxpaw was going to lose her brother, and it would all be her fault.
"You two have obviously seen better days," Daisytuft scoffed from the back of their den. The two medicine cats glanced to her, vexed by her statement but the elder only rolled her eyes at them. "I'm not trying to sound rude, for I know this situation can be a lot, but you two are stressing yourselves out too much. Just relax, breathe and settle down for a few."
Lynxpaw's fur bristled and anger flickered in her green gaze at the elder's words. "Relax? How inconsiderate can you be?" The apprentice hissed at the prone elder. "My brother will be exiled at sunset if I can't find out what truly happened to Marshleap. He didn't murder his mentor and every cat should believe that for it is the truth."
"I never said it wasn't," Daisytuft calmly responded, her eyes narrowed. "I know your brother would not harm a soul, but trust me, every cat needs someone to blame and he's the only option. Justice is like cobwebs to their wounds, and perhaps that's why Cottonstar is so desperate to reach a proper solution. You can't blame them, Lynxpaw, and you can't blame yourself either. You are trying your hardest but we all know there is nothing that can be done."
