The Fallen



The Fallen is a fanfiction by Willowpaw.

Chapter 1
"May StarClan light your path, Doefire and Vixenflame."

I stared at the bodies. They had been assigned to a hunting patrol earlier today. Now they're gone.

"May you find good hunting, swift running, and shelter where you sleep."

The cats around me began dipping their heads. I hastily imitated them. I didn't want to mess up an important ceremony.

Lightningpaw nudged me. "Larchpaw, what do you think killed them?"

Of course, the other apprentices were talking through the ceremony.

But I'm curious as well. The Clan's been talking about it all day. They had been hunting deep within ThunderClan territory, where no fox or badger had been seen for moons. There was no strange scent where they had been killed either, and it'd be hard to cleanly kill two well-trained warriors.

So we're scared.

"I have no idea," I respond. Of course, I have a million theories. Rogues? ShadowClan? A traitor in our own Clan? It's much easier to just say you're confused. Especially around the obnoxious apprentices. Lightningpaw, Leafpaw, Dewpaw, and Nightpaw. Four annoyances in the shape of my littermates. Well, two littermates and two other kits. But they're essentially my littermates, being so close to Leafpaw and Lightningpaw.

"Leafpaw and I think it's each other. That would be so interesting! Rivals, engaged in a fatal battle..."

Lightningpaw has always gotten excited over strange things. She was practically squealing with joy when a patrol reported trespassers. She loves anything that breaks the monotony of Clan life, no matter how terrible.

"Dewpaw thinks it was a fox. BORING. Foxes kill cats all the time. Rivals inside the Clan killing each other has never happened before!"

She also has problems with taking things seriously. Dewpaw is less annoying than the rest, but he's not very significant. I don't remember him every doing anything remotely noteworthy. I usually forget he's there.

"Nightpaw says it has to be rogues. That would be cool! But not as cool as my idea. Plus, how would they get in? We have to go on boring old border patrol EVERY. OTHER. SECOND."

Nightpaw is odd. She won't eat squirrels, says they're too fluffy. She rarely actually hunts on hunting patrols, preferring to spend the time complaining about the mud on her paws or the heat. The older cats are always furious with her. So am I.

"Come on, you must have at least one idea!" Lightningpaw immediately realized how loudly she had said that and shut her mouth. Thankfully, her outburst earned her a couple of glares from the older cats, causing her to sit down and shut up.

This allowed me to return to pondering the deaths anxiously.

The thing that bothered me was that nobody knew who or what killed them. The murderer could come back, and I could be next. Or any of the other cats in the Clan, of course. But I was more worried about me.

The vigil continued and the mood was far from peaceful.