Regretful Words (short story -- gore+blood warning)
The sun shone through the gaps of leaves in the apprentices’ den, warming Deerpaw’s back and causing him to stretch in its warmth. Then his eyes shot open.
The assessment! He was supposed to be taking it today. Had he slept in? He stood up, not bothering to wash. He didn’t want to waste any more time, and hurried out of the den. His heart fell as he saw that the sun was at its highest, and warriors were already going about their day, sharing prey in different spots of the clearing or helping to put another layer over the nursery before the start of leaf-bare.
At the entrance to the clearing was his mentor, Snowwillow. He shrank back as her eyes latched onto his, and had to force himself to pad toward her. “I hope you had a good rest,” she said scathingly, irritation clear in her twitching tail and claws. “Because the other apprentices and their mentors have already made it back, and are waiting for you to hurry up and finish so that they can receive their names.”
You could have woken me! Deerpaw bit back the retort as he followed Snowwillow into the trees. He was disappointed that he was no longer able to take the assessment with his friend, Smokepaw, like they had planned for moons. But then, Smokepaw didn’t wake him either! His disappointment morphed into a bitter anger that threatened to overwhelm him. Before he knew it, he was spitting, “I don’t see why no one woke me up! There were three other apprentices in the den, yet they–”
“This is supposed to be the day you become a warrior,” Snowwillow cut him off. “You should learn to wake up when you need to wake up.”
That’s not fair! Deerpaw wanted to protest, then decided to do just that. “How do I force myself to wake up, when in a dream you forget everything?”
“Warriors learn. They know not to spend the entire night chattering away like a starling about how great it would be to accomplish something, and to actually get the rest they need so that they can!”
Now that was even more unfair. He was the only apprentice in the den that was actually capable of shutting up precisely so that he could wake up early, and he had only spoken enough to argue with Smokepaw and the others about being quiet.
Was that it? Did they think it would be funny to let him sleep in after all the fuss he made? Or was their idea of payback for him yelling at them to be for him to miss his assessment?
He had fallen silent, padding along behind Snowwillow, but his anger hadn’t left him. “Warriors also know to help each other,” he mumbled. “So they should wake each other up.”
Snowwillow whirled around, and he flinched. He hadn’t meant for her to hear that. “Do you think I had fun, sitting in the clearing waiting for you? You got to sleep on your tail all day, but what do you think it was like for me? Do you think it was fun having our Clanmates stare while I waited for you? Or when the other apprentices returned, and I was still waiting for you to get up?”
Normally Deerpaw would feel bad for making his mentor embarrassed. This time, his anger boiled into rage, and he practically shouted, “you wouldn’t have had to do any of that if you had just taken the precious time to wake me up! That’s what mentors do!” In fact, it was what Snowwillow always did up until today. She hadn’t prepared him at all. How was he to know?
Snowwillow’s white fur bristled. “Oh, so I suppose you want me to mentor you forever?”
Deerpaw growled. “I want nothing more than to be rid of you!”
For a second, hurt flashed across Snowwillow’s eyes. Then they narrowed and she huffed. “Fine. Hunt now. Hopefully you’ll catch enough prey that you can pass, and we won’t have to speak again.”
Immediately, Deerpaw regretted his words. His jaws opened to apologize, but Snowwillow was already heading away. He wouldn’t know when she was watching.
This was supposed to be a joyous day, and it had turned out all wrong! He shook his head. After all the trouble he had just made, he wasn’t going to not try. He’ll focus on hunting now. Apologies can wait until after he gets his warrior name.
. . . . .
“Yes!” Deerpaw couldn’t suppress the triumphant yowl as he brought down the pigeon. It was the fifth animal he had caught, after he had managed to take two mice from a nest, a squirrel from the roots of a tree, and a vole as it swam in a shallow stream that must have been created by the rainfall earlier that moon.
It was an impressive catch. Deerpaw hoped that meant that it was enough to pass him, even if he was incredibly late.
He turned around, expecting Snowwillow to emerge from the bushes. The darkening leaves didn’t rustle, nor did he see her bright pelt between the branches. Should he still hunt? But it was already getting dark.
He flicked his tail in a questioning manner, deciding no to call out her name and risk scaring off the prey in case he was supposed to keep hunting.
Two more mice and a failed bluejay attack later, and he decided to return to camp himself. He wasn’t sure whether or not to be angry with Snowwillow or be sorry that he had gotten angry with her. Did she leave because she was angry with him, or had he hurt her feelings more deeply than he had realized?
Either way, he would need help carrying all his prey back– he felt a glimmer of pride at that. He decided to carry the squirrel and pigeon, the most impressive of his catch, carrying them both by the tails. He allowed himself to delve into the triumph he was feeling. It felt much better than being sad or angry.
He took in a deep breath, letting in the scent of their fresh blood, and trying desperately not to sink his teeth in deeper as the crimson liquid bathed his tongue. He hadn’t eaten all day, the scent of freshly killed prey was so tempting.
He sniffed again and froze.
He smelt blood again. Yet somehow, he knew this was different. He set his prey down so that they wouldn’t block his nose, and tasted the air. There was blood for sure, but he couldn’t tell if it was simply from his fresh-kill.
He decided to quickly hide them beneath some leaves, then ventured further. The smell of blood became overwhelming, and just beneath it, Deerpaw could smell the scent of a cat. Forgetting his own safety, he raced along the trail as fast as his aching legs could carry him.
The ground ahead was as undisturbed and golden as ever. So what is– his thought was cut off by something in Deerpaw’s path, causing him to stumble awkwardly onto his belly. He bit his tongue painfully as his chin slammed against the ground. “Owow!”
He raised a paw to his chin, fearing for a second that he had bit his tongue off, but there was only a small trickle of blood. Blood…. Deerpaw realized that his fur suddenly felt wet. Eyes wide, he peered down to see blood smeared across his pelt.
Deerpaw began to tremble. Every hair stood on end as he forced himself to look behind him.
Snowwillow lay, her paws and tail tucked awkwardly beneath her. The leaves must have blocked her from his view. Now that he had kicked them up, he was able to see more than he would ever want to.
Her white pelt, always so well-cleaned, was soaked red in what seemed to be every part of her body, soaking the ground. That was almost unnoticeable too, Deerpaw realized, horrified, due to the red tinge of dusk and the browning leaves.
The more he stared, the more he saw. Snowwillow’s eyes were rounded as far as they could stretch. Deerpaw could feel them burn into him, almost having to back away, if only his paws could move. She had a horrible gash in her throat–several, actually, and they led down to her stomach. Oh stars. Deerpaw nearly threw up. That wasn’t what he thought it was, poking out of her stomach?
Then a voice broke into his horror. “I want nothing more than to be rid of you!” He shuddered, collapsing onto the ground, unable to do anything but stare.
The voice had belonged to him.
== ==
--Okay I was thinking about Flamepaw’s assessments and of how angry he was getting with his mentor, so of course I began to think “you know what would be messed up?”
--How many of you thought that Deerpaw or Snowwillow was going to kill the other? Well, other than what we see in the story, they DO get along for the most part.
But no, Deerpaw didn’t kill Snowwillow, but he will never forget what his last words to her had been, or that the last thing they ever said to each other were in anger.
--Any guesses on who did kill her? It might be someone we’ve met before, it might not be
