The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

3. Mourning

"No! She can't be! She can't be dead!"

Never had Echopaw truly thought of what it would be like to be blind or deaf. She closed her eyes as tightly as she could, wondering if her lids would mold together and remain shut if she could do so any tighter. She focused her ears on the silence of the medicine den, and on Clearwhisker's raspy breathing as he hastily groomed his long, wild fur. As she opened her blue eyes, all she could see was a strange light coming from the illuminating snow outside. She asked herself if this could be what it was like to be blind and deaf; to see darkness and light intertwined and hear nothing but a strange buzzing noise.

She settled down beside Clearwhisker and pressed against his warm side for comfort. As he glanced at her, she could see the disappointment in his otherwise cloudy eyes. When Blackear had heard of Fallenstar's death, he had wailed about his loss, and he had delved into the forest and returned what seemed to be an eternity later. He called himself Blackstar, but the only gleam in his eyes was one of grief and deep pain rather than the shimmer that Clearwhisker had once said lingered in the eyes of a new leader.

He's disappointed in Blackstar. He must not have received his nine lives. Echopaw's ears fell back. All she could think of was Blackstar's caterwaul and Shadowclaw's shattered glare. Froststrike had been there too, and his head had dipped in despair at the news of his leader's death. All three had been uprooted when Yellowfoot explained that there was no way to dig her out - or, at least, there was no way tonight.

We've lost two cats in one day.

"Echopaw," Clearwhisker grunted, pushing himself up to sit. "Go outside and see what's going on. See if anyone is still holding their vigil."

Echopaw nodded and stood, hesitating about leaving her mentor. All she wanted was to lie in her nest beside the old cat and pray to StarClan to help guide her Clan, as well as she herself, but she felt restless. The sight of Clearwhisker's ragged fur and tired, distant gaze made her quicken her pace up the tunnel. That was one thing she didn't want to think of.

The night sky was clear, stars shimmering beautifully above. Soon, a full moon would shine above, and DarkClan would have to attend their gathering. Blackstar would stand as the Clan's leader, and he would announce to every other Clan that Shadowclaw was now his deputy. When the decision had spread amongst the cats of DarkClan itself, some looked doubtful, as if the dark-furred tom didn't deserve the position. Shadowclaw himself had been very meek, dipping his head and backing away without a word.

Now, only six cats sat in the bone-chilling cold, paying their last respects. Blackstar stood by the cliff, his eyes directed up to the sky. As he stared at the stars, malice rolled from his pelt, as did deep yearning. Shadowclaw sat a ways away, eyes flitting from cat to cat. Froststrike was closer to the center of the camp, forming the third point to the triangle, his head down and eyes closed as he spoke in quiet whispers to himself. A horrible aura of sorrow surrounded him, cloaking him in a dark sheet that separated him from everyone else. As Echopaw padded past him, the snow crunching softly beneath her paws, she heard only a few words: "Tell them that I'm sorry."

They all grew up together, didn't they? Fallenstar, Blackstar, and Froststrike trained together. Echopaw lingered nearby. It's strange how much Fallenstar and Froststrike bickered, but he seems heartbroken. But nothing will be the same now, will it? She began walking towards the center of the triangle. Tigerstripe's body laid there, smelling faintly of dried mint from the medicine stores. Sandfoot crouched beside him, his head resting against the dead tom's shoulder. Palepaw was beside him, carefully smoothing any fluffed pieces of Tigerstripe's fur. Echopaw sat at his side and shivered fiercely in the cold. She leaned against him, seeking her friend's warmth.