[Deleted]

    Smokefur was nothing short of horrified with the fate that had befallen her sister, as if Starclan had brought down swift justice and granted her an end that was far from peaceful. This came as no surprise to the medicine cat, she had surmised long ago a quiet death from old age or even green cough wasn't to be her sisters' fate. The sentiment 'live by the claw, die by the claw' seemed to resonate with the grey she-cat and she found her paws carrying her to the boulder she had seen her now deceased sister call together their clanmates many a time before. It fell upon her to inform them of her fate, perhaps the deputy should have been given such a task but as Ravenstar was her kin she would have no such thing. Slowly scaling the cool stone she found herself able to look over the camp calling them to gather. "Everyone please... gather on me." She called in the strongest voice she could muster, even so her words were weak and stricken with grief. It wasn't the most formal way she had seen the clan addressed, but she wasn't the leader and didn't feel the need to pretend she was.

[Deleted]

brother let me be your fortress when the night winds are driving on
be the one to light your way, bring you home

---

Darkblaze padded into camp quietly, a squirrel and a pair of mice dangling from his jaws. It was his proximity to the boulder that allowed him to hear Smokefur's words, and he turned his golden eyes to her, trying to gauge her emotions. She looked a little shaky, as though some trauma had befallen her, and her weak words continued to echo in his ears. 'What happened?'

Concerned that her words might not have traveled far enough, the tuxedoed tom dropped his catch onto the fresh-kill pile and headed toward the elders' den. Poking his head inside, he spoke, "Clan meeting, Smokefur's call." He ducked out and moved on, repeating his message to the apprentices' den and the warriors' den, before stepping inside the nursery.

He addressed the queens in a soft voice. "Smokefur's called a Clan meeting. It might be best if the kits remain. It doesn't feel like it'll be good news." He dipped his head to the queens respectfully, bowing out of the den. He began to walk toward the boulder ledge, where he could already see cats beginning to gather. He scanned around for a familiar tortoiseshell pelt, and, once locating it, went to sit beside his brother. He wrapped his tail around himself, settling his forepaws atop the tip, and waited to hear what the medicine cat had to say.

---

D A R K B L A Z E

[Fawn]

[smear:fa401c]HAZEHEART[/smear:000000]

21 Moons || NightClan || Tom || Narcoleptic

Hazeheart was still young enough that death came as a huge shock. Not yet inoculated to the harsh life lessons his older, more experienced Clanmates had already learned, the death of Ravenstar in particular would be like a bolt from the blue. It would send shock-waves through the entire Clan, and what would follow was sure to be a long, long night of mourning.

Abandoning his uneaten mouse, he set it back on the freshkill pile and immediately searched for a light-colored pelt and the tuxedo coloring of his sister and brother, Brightfeather and Darkblaze. Spotting Darkblaze first, he settled in beside him, notably more slender but, for the first time in a while, looking healthier than he had been since his traumatic three moons stuck in the mountains.

This seems serious... Why was it Smokefur and not Ravenstar or Slatenose on the boulder? Speaking of the diminutive but fierce Clan-leader, where was she? Hazeheart glanced around at the rapidly gathering cats, briefly locking eyes with the piercing mismatched gaze of Blackwolf sitting with his mate and offspring nearby. He gave a friendly nod, but it wasn't returned—in fact, the coal-dark warrior looked incredibly grave.

Had he noticed something the rest of them had missed?

Pelt prickling uncomfortably, Hazeheart's attention slowly settled back on Darkblaze murmuring in his brother's ear. "What do you think's happened? Where's Ravenstar?" Had she been captured? No, captured would call for anger, not... The emotion Smokefur was showing—or doing her best not to show. Hazeheart wouldn't ever claim to be an expert on understanding the emotions of others, but this felt... like the beginnings of grief. Disturbed, Hazeheart's paws shuffled uncomfortably, and he hoped Brightfeather would sit with them.

At strange times such as these, he felt better with his family around him.

---
Word Count: 295 Words
Tags: Amber

[Insidious]

S A N D V I P E R
- - - - - -

It was no surprise that he had fallen in love; the only question was how someone of such unmatched beauty had evaded his interest as long as she had. When he decided that it was her whom would hold his ironically undying affections, he hadn't felt the urge to so much as bat his eerily charming eyes in the direction of any other she-cat, but now that she was gone he had nothing but satisfaction inside of him - and was he ever satisfied, because if he couldn't have her in the simplest, most caring way than certainly neither could the rest of NightClan. They would mourn her lifeless body for days and nights to come and it was entirely her fault.

How he knew her to be dead before the rest of his Clan, gathering around the medicine cat with puzzled looks on their faces, was easy enough to explain: he had killed her. It was perhaps the greatest treachery that a warrior could commit against their Clan, but the last thing he felt was the need to apologize and make amends for his unforgivable actions. She had done a terrible, terrible thing by denying him so much as a chance to prove himself worthy of her. He didn't miss her, not like he thought he would, because she had spent her last moments with him and there was little more he could've asked for from a relationship that had always been destined to crumble.

His expression was sullen, prepared to endure the worst of news just like any other cat. Those around him knew nothing of their proximity to the murderer, they probably didn't even know that Ravenstar was dead, and that he held this knowledge made him feel somehow superior. He resisted the smirk that threatened to spill across his lips; this was far from the appropriate time to celebrate.

- - - - - -

Tags: N/A

[Phoenix]

YOU’VE HELD YOUR HEAD UP. YOU’VE FOUGHT THE FIGHT.

What first caught her attention as she made her way back into camp was not that there was something wrong. Indeed, her realization of the somber atmosphere of the gathered cats followed almost instantly behind her observation that Ravenstar must have called a clan meeting. But a glance to the front of the group showed her not the small, black and white she-cat she had been expecting but rather the equally familiar pelt of her sister. Cold dread sent a shiver down her spine, and the fur on the back of her neck prickled slightly with unease. With a jolt, the warrior realized that, as she watched the medicine cat who was clearly afflicted by a pain that her herbs could not heal, she had not seen Ravenstar recently. As she had the tendency toward solitude, it was not unusual that she go without seeing any particular cat for a number of days, but the healer would not appear so wounded if something had happened to any feline but her sister. It was not good. Though it seemed as though Smokefur had yet to confirm anything, the overall silence, broken only by a faint whisper or two, was so heavy that she could have sliced it with a claw.

Blue and gold eyes flitted across the crowd as she instinctively sought out those who meant the most to her. A large midnight tom with eyes that mirrored hers sat alongside his family - her family, too, but he did not know that - and a short distance from him, a wiry warrior with green eyes stared ahead with an expression of polite disinterest upon his features. Turning away from him and his ever present shadow, she could not help the slight curling of her own lips; she had never really liked Ratfur. Not far from the object of her distaste were her brothers, and as white paws carried her into the crowd with careful steps, she became surrounded by sullen expressions. “Hazeheart,” She murmured softly, inclining her head. “Darkblaze.” Neatly she wrapped an alabaster tail around equally pale paws, sitting on the other side of Hazeheart almost protectively. She had been without a younger brother for far longer than she had ever wanted, and she was not about to lose him again - especially when it seemed as though a different pair of siblings had just been fractured.

Brightfeather | NightClan | Warrior | Dust to Dust – The Civil Wars

YOU BEAR THE SCARS. YOU’VE DONE YOUR TIME.