Diverging Paths (Warrior Cats Fanfiction)

Chapter 28

It was nighttime, and in daytime, it would be Moorpaw and Mixedpaw's warrior ceremony.

After charging away from the argument earlier in the day, Highwings had stayed the whole night outside camp; she hadn't really been able to think properly, with no one to talk to, so she had just wandered around the forest. Not too far, of course, for fear of encountering the same bloodthirsty rogues that had taken Sprintquick's life, but she did spend as much time as possible away from her Clanmates. It didn't make her forget everything, but it at least cleansed her mind a little as she was able to focus on other things.

She saw multiple cats leaving camp; most were on patrols, but a few seemed to be on casual walks. Trenchfall walked out with Popbubble, his dead brother's mate. They seemed to be deep in conversation about each other's families; Highwings was able to gather that Trenchfall was still suffering from Trudgestep's death and Mellowsigh's betrayal, and Nimblereach had been talking to him less since Offpaw had gone missing.

Popbubble, on the other paw, was grieving for Trudgestep too, but also scared of her brother Murmuringsoil. According to her, he and Riftrim were acting very off and complaining about Scatterstar a lot. Huh, Highwings thought. So that's what they've always been talking about in their little sibling groups. Weird how Popbubble is worried enough to talk about it to Trenchfall, but won't let Scatterstar know. Pfuh.

When Highwings had reentered camp the next morning after sleeping by herself in a little self-made burrow, she had done so with a low head and ashamed gaze, even though she felt none of what had happened with Bounceback was at all her fault. She still felt like she was in the right, and tried to assure herself with what Hollowfortune had told her, but her old concerns began resurfacing. How can I be right? How can I be right if so many cats are against me?

She didn't really receive much verbal pushback for the day, but she seemed to be sent on a patrol every other second, as though Scatterstar or Murmuringsoil was intent on keeping her out of sight and out of mind, for themselves or for others. Not that she totally minded; she was a cat of many patrols. But when the reason for it was that she was unwanted in camp, the experiences suddenly became a lot more bittersweet.

She had visited Doublepelt a few times to receive some solace, but he was exhausted and in a lot of pain from trying to walk again. Nimblereach actually informed her it was somewhat concerning; even for a cat that had been resting for an entire half a moon, he should not be this tired. He seemed so out of breath every time he put the smallest strain on himself, as though something in his body had changed to not allow him to handle it. Highwings was not willing to accept the possibility of another cat's death after losing Hollowfortune, Teasemouth, Offpaw, and Sprintquick, so she had chalked it up to severe muscle atrophy and refused to think about it beyond that.

But regardless of what had happened in the day, it was now night. As she once again snuck out carrying three squirrels, she had harsh thoughts in her head telling her to make this count. Tiltpaw was the last cat she could count on for some relief. He was someone who could not tell any of her woes to anyone. Someone she could count on for kind words of advice or reassurance. But as she walked through the dark greenish forest, her eyes sparkled with tears, knowing nothing he could say would actually resolve anything for her.

She slunk under the Thunderpath, looking to be, for all accounts and purposes, immensely miserable. Tiltpaw's eyes widened in the dark as he saw her step in, and he ran forward to greet her. When Highwings dropped the prey, Tiltpaw immediately nuzzled her, without either having said a word yet.

"Highwings, I discovered something big with Battlestar. You'll definitely want to hear. I think we really need to do...ehrm...Did...Did something happen?" he asked as he noticed the she-cat didn't seem to be absorbing any of his words There was a barely visible twinkle of misery in his own eyes, but he was repressing it for now.