Post by Deleted on Jun 17, 2013 20:31:44 GMT -5
Peachpaw feat. Snowpaw and Dovesong
Immediately following the StormClan battle.
Immediately following the StormClan battle.
i'll come back with you and take all that's true
and leave all that's burned behind
Peachpaw stood in the StoneClan camp, breathing heavily. Some of the warriors had gone off after the fleeing cats, making sure they weren't coming back. As the haze of battle wore off and the surge of adrenaline faded, Peachpaw finally turned her blue eyes to look at the ravaged camp. There was blood everywhere, and more bodies than she dared to count. As she looked on, the reality of what had just taken place hit her.
RainClan and LightningClan, StormClan, had chased off StoneClan. Two against one. They had the upper hand. It was a battle they were certain to win. But StoneClan.. they were doomed to lose. Where would they go? Into the mountains. But how would they survive?
The cats who had chased StoneClan to the border had returned, and slowly, the cats of LightningClan and RainClan, no longer united, began to pick up their dead, carrying them home for a warrior's return. But.. who would bury the dead of StoneClan? Their warriors couldn't return to recover the bodies and rebuild.
The last of StormClan left, leaving Peachpaw seemingly alone with her thoughts. Slowly, she walked around the trashed camp, forcing herself to look at each of the cats that lie there. A brown tabby tom, his wounds cut sharp and clean, like a professional kill. A long-furred she-cat the color of a storm cloud, jagged gouges down her side, rough bite marks, and patches of blood where her fur was missing.
The worst site to behold, though, was a silver-shaded she-cat, still plump from having kits, stretched with her eyes open wide, just a tail-length from what looked to be the nursery. Peachpaw's eyes clouded over, and she found it hard to continue. She carried on, though, her heart heavy.
Eight. There were eight StoneClan cats, now walking in StarClan, watching over the Clan that had been so brutally evicted from their home. The cream-pointed she-cat tore at the rocky ground beneath her, until her claws bled from the rough bits of gravel she so violently attacked.
"What have we done?" She looked up to the sky, where the setting sun had begun to reveal the brightest stars of Silverpelt high above. "Why? How could you let this happen?" Peachpaw choked on her words and lowered her head, her heart breaking. These were cats, once living, breathing cats, with lives and families and friends and now they were gone. They were gone, and nothing could bring them back. The apprentice bit her tongue to prevent a wail from forcing its way out. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth, and she coughed, the smell of it in the air and on the ground and in her mouth just too much to bear.
Peachpaw sighed as the sky continued to darken. There was, at least, one last thing she could do. Recounting the bodies, she made her way out of camp, searching for a suitable patch of ground. After a short search, she found what appeared to be a burial ground, small bumps in the darkness. She set to work quickly, digging past the stony exterior of the earth, down to a bed of softer dirt and clay. She dug and dug, until her paws bled, and kept digging. One, two graves. She was working on the third, when pawsteps stopped her.
She turned, hoping that by some miracle it was StoneClan, coming back even in the wake of defeat. The two cats she saw, though, weren't of Stone. They smelled of wind and rabbit, a scent she was now all too familiar with. LightningClan. Two white cats, moving toward the StoneClan camp.
"Eight. There are eight dead." The two cats looked at her, and she met their gazes for a moment, before turning back to continue digging the third grave. A pair of snow white paws soon joined her, followed by another. Three, four, five. Peachpaw finished hers first, and moved to the other side of the white she-cat. No one spoke, and no one needed to. The pair of white cats, likely related, moved, digging the final two graves.
Tired, muddy, and bloody, Peachpaw led the way into StoneClan's camp. Together, the trio managed to carry each and every body into a grave, before replacing the dirt. Looking up from the eight mounds of dirt, she spied a poppy growing nearby. She moved to it, gently plucking it from where it grew. Delicately, she shook out poppy seeds onto each grave, pressing them gently into the dirt with her pawpad. When she finished, she laid the poppy onto the grave of the silvery she-cat who had been slaughtered near the nursery.
"May StarClan find them safe in their ranks." Her voice was quiet, a gentle prayer heard only by the three cats present and the wind. "And let these poppies grow, to announce their safety to StoneClan, whenever they may return." Silently, the three cats parted ways. Peachpaw slowly made her way back to the river, while the two white cats made their way to the moor. Her heart felt like lead in her chest, and her head and tail hung low, but Peachpaw knew burying those eight cats was the right thing to do.
run for your life