[TB] LEOPARDSTAR'S LIE -- Chapter 2

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Leopardstar felt a drop of water land on her nose. She opened her eyes and looked up – the sky was cloudy and pale gray, like a dove’s wing. Leopardstar fluffed up her fur against a chilly breeze, forcing herself to her paws.

The battle with BloodClan had finished yesterday, and Leopardstar wondered if she would ever stop aching. She was surprised she had only lost one life and, beyond that, she couldn’t help but be surprised that the forest Clans had won. The horrified shriek of “Scorch is dead!” still echoed in her ears. How quickly BloodClan had turned and fled!

I would have, too, had I seen Tinystar like that, Leopardstar admitted to herself. She recalled the crowd parting, revealing the ThunderClan leader standing atop Scorch’s bloody body. Though he was small in stature, Tinystar was a tremendous fighter, and those ice-blue eyes were chilling when they wanted to be.

She pushed that image out of her mind and settled down to groom herself. She hadn’t felt up to sleeping in her den last night – it still stank of Bluestar, and Leopardstar knew she wouldn’t be able to rest easy with that smell in her nose.

The entire camp still reeked of ShadowClan, too. Their strange, marshy smell clung to everything, and Leopardstar hoped that this sprinkling of rain would help wash away the failures of LionClan.

Most of RiverClan’s warriors were huddled in their dens, their eyes bright in the gloom made by the woven reed roofs. No one seemed eager to move, or sure what to do besides. The fresh-kill pile was empty and no cat was willing to organize a hunting party to fill it.

Their hesitation was understandable. Though Leopardstar had dissolved LionClan after the battle, there was still so much to do to cleanse their territory of its influences. It’s going to take more than rain to clean this mess.

Hesitantly, Leopardstar looked into the center of the clearing. Swallowfeather and Wrenwhisker’s bodies were laying there, their fur dampened by the rain. Their vigil had gone through the night, though only Tawnypelt and Thrushflight remained in mourning. Both had died in the battle – poor Swallowfeather had been caught alone by two burly BloodClan toms and hadn’t stood a chance. Wrenwhisker, though…

Leopardstar felt the worst about him. I lost a life to save his, but he died anyway.

Leopardstar shook her pelt, feeling the sting of many fresh scratches. She glanced across the camp towards the medicine cat den. Mudfur, her father and RiverClan’s medicine cat, had worked tirelessly throughout the battle and the night after to ensure RiverClan lost no more, but even his skill wasn’t enough.

Tawnypelt shifted, sitting up. She buried her muzzle into her son’s fur and Leopardstar guessed she was breathing in his scent one last time. Thrushflight licked her brother’s cheek, her eyes sparkling with sorrow.

Leopardstar couldn’t imagine the feeling of losing a kit, let alone losing one in such a horrible battle. Her stomach twisted at the thought.

“It’s time,” Leopardstar decided. She padded to the center of the clearing, staring at Tawnypelt from the other side of their lost Clanmates.

Tawnypelt lifted her head, eyes shimmering with sorrow. It seemed like she was too choked up to speak – she only nodded in response.

As if that were the signal, the cats of RiverClan emerged from their dens, slowly padding into the clearing and forming a circle around the bodies of Swallowfeather and Wrenwhisker. Loudbelly and Graypool, two of the oldest cats in RiverClan, stepped forward together. They raised their muzzles and let out a keening cry to the clouds.

Thrushflight joined them and, after a moment of hesitation, Tawnypelt did as well. Leopardstar’s heart ached to hear the mourning song from her friend – but the spirits of the dead needed to be commended to StarClan. Leopardstar raised her nose and joined her voice to theirs.

Soon enough all of RiverClan was singing. It was longer than any mourning song that Leopardstar recalled – they were giving StarClan not just the two warriors before them, but all those lost in the battle and, deep down, Leopardstar sang her song for Brambleclaw as well – Bluestar had disapproved of RiverClan’s mourning practices and hadn’t allowed RiverClan warriors to sing Brambleclaw’s song when he had died.

Forgive me, she thought, lowering her muzzle. Please.

The cries of mourning died out, leaving the RiverClan camp in silence but for the sprinkling rain. Together, Loudbelly and Graypool, along with Ripplecloud and Brackenflight, picked up the limp bodies of their Clanmates and bore them out of camp.

Leopardstar approached Tawnypelt. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“I wish my paws had been faster,” Tawnypelt whispered. Wrenwhisker’s gray-black body disappeared through the reed tunnel. “A mother outliving her kit… it doesn’t feel right.”

“He’s with StarClan now,” rasped Blackclaw. Thrushflight sighed, sinking her muzzle into her father’s thick black fur. “He’s watching over us, Tawnypelt.”

Tawnypelt did not respond.

Leopardstar swallowed. The mourning was done – now it was time for action. She felt her Clanmate’s eyes upon her, waiting for what was to come next in this wet, rainy world.

Leopardstar turned around and faced the Clan Root. Only once before had it looked so imposing – after Crookedstar’s death, Leopardstar had found the idea of taking his place upon that root daunting. Now she wondered if it was where she deserved to be at all.

They need to see that we are strong, Leopardstar thought. She glanced back at her Clan. All of them were watching expectantly, but Leopardstar couldn’t help but see the doubt in their eyes. I am their leader, she told herself firmly. I need to chase that doubt away like any other enemy.

Leoapardstar sank her claws into the soft wood and pulled herself up onto the Clan Root. It felt right, sitting up here and looking down at her Clan, and she raised her chin when she saw some of the doubt flickering out of her warrior’s eyes. Mudfur slipped out of the crowd and settled himself at the root’s base, flicking an ear at the rain dripping down from the sheltering willows.

“Cats of RiverClan!” Leopardstar called. “These past seasons have been like a storm on the water, shaking us and testing our resolve – but we are RiverClan! We are strong, and we pulled through together. We are shaken, this is true, but we are not broken!”

There was a moment of silence, and Leopardstar feared that no cat would hearken to her words – and then Stormpaw raised his muzzle and called, “RiverClan! RiverClan!”

“RiverClan!” His cry was taken up by the warriors, and Leopardstar’s heart lifted. “RiverClan!”

Feeling energy prickling at her paws, Leopardstar raised her tail for silence. “There is much to be done to leave behind the stain of LionClan, but nothing is more important a duty than this – I say these words before StarClan, and ask their forgiveness in my lateness. Hear and approve my choice! Tawnypelt will be the new deputy of RiverClan.”

“Tawnypelt! Tawnypelt!”

Leopardstar looked down at her Clan, grateful that they seemed to approve as well. Tawnypelt had agreed to be RiverClan’s deputy after the battle, but there had been too much to do – she had not been officially appointed in the eyes of her Clan.

The tortoiseshell warrior stepped forward. “I will do everything in my power to make a better, stronger RiverClan,” she said, her green eyes sparking with determination as she took her place beside Mudfur. “Thank you.”

No, thank you. Leopardstar thought gratefully. Tawnypelt could have – maybe should have – declined. She could have stayed in ThunderClan with Silverstream. But she didn’t, and Leopardstar was thankful that StarClan decided to bless her with such a loyal friend.

“As we move away from the stain in our past that was LionClan,” Leopardstar went on, “there is something more we must leave behind – who a cat’s parents are is not under their control. A kit does not break the warrior code by existing, and they do not deserve to bear the weight of their parent’s punishment or shame.”

Her words made her Clanmates close their jaws. She saw more than one warrior refusing to meet her eye, lowering their muzzles in discomfort – Leopardstar knew that those were the cats who had supported Brambleclaw’s trial, even if they hadn’t vocalized it. Her stomach twisted again at the thought of those cats’ hate, and what it had led to. We cannot go on if those cats don’t realize the error of their ways!

“That’s all well and good,” meowed Mosspelt, “but what about you? You watched Brambleclaw die, too, and you said nothing!”

More than one cat murmured in agreement. In the back of the crowd, Leopardstar saw Stormpaw and Featherpaw’s challenging eyes. They had chosen to stay in RiverClan because they loved this Clan, despite it all. For them, I must be firm. I must be strong.

“I am guilty of the crime of silence,” Leopardstar declared, lifting her chin. Her pride bristled, pricked by claws of her own design. “I, too, am guilty for the crime of cowardice. I could say that I didn’t know what forming LionClan would mean, but that would be a lie. I know many of you will never forgive me for what I did – and many of you probably shouldn’t – but I will do everything in my power to prove myself worthy to be your leader again.”

She hoped that would satisfy them, but words would only go so far. If I will spend the rest of my lives being judged for this action, then bring it, she thought, digging her claws into the Clan Root. I will make RiverClan strong again!

“There is much to be done,” Leopardstar meowed. The rain began to ease, and the sky peeked through tears in the cloud cover. “Repairs to the camp must be made, our fresh-kill pile restocked, and our borders need to be re-marked. Tawnypelt?”

Tawnypelt nodded. “Understood.”

“Good,” Leopardstar decided. She swept her gaze over her Clan. “I don’t know about all of you, but I’m looking forward to eating fish again!”

That remark earned her a cheer from her Clanmates, and it chased away the sour feeling of the past. Leopardstar took a deep breath of the rain-wet air and knew that they could look forward to the future together.

Leopardstar leaped down off of the Clan Root, signaling an end to the meeting. Immediately Tawnypelt began organizing the Clan into patrols – Leopardstar padded up to her ears pricked. She was already working so efficiently, and Leopardstar knew she had made the right choice for deputy.

As the warriors were heading off to their duties, Tawnypelt pulled Blackclaw aside. Leopardstar tilted her head, curious – the two had been mates for a long time, but since the formation of LionClan they hadn’t spoken much to one another.

Tawnypelt raised her chin. “It’s over between us, Blackclaw,” she meowed decisively.

Blackclaw’s eyes went wide with shock. “Wh-What? Why?”

Tawnypelt’s eyes burned. “You never liked half-Clan cats,” she said. “When we were put into the rabbit warrens, I didn’t hear a word out of you in protest – and when Brambleclaw died, Featherpaw and Stormpaw told me that you were cheering alongside Bluestar’s cats.”

Blackclaw’s neck fur bristled, and his claws unsheathed. Leopardstar took another step forward, heart pounding in her ears. The cats that hadn’t gone off on patrol yet had stopped to listen, and Leopardstar worried she might have to step in before things went too far.

“You’d believe them over me?” Blackclaw asked.

Tawnypelt’s ears flattened. “I don’t hear you denying it.”

Blackclaw opened his jaws, and then shut them. “Fine,” he decided. His gaze grew cold. “It’s over. Is that really what you want?”

“Yes,” Tawnypelt declared.

Blackclaw curled his lip at Tawnypelt before swinging around and stalking out of camp, his tail lashing to and fro. Leopardstar swallowed. To Tawnypelt, she asked, “Are you all right?”

Tawnypelt blinked. Leopardstar noticed she was shivering, and moved to hide that from the other warriors. She gave those onlookers a glowering stare that sent them back to their tasks before turning back to Tawnypelt.

“I had to do it,” Tawnypelt confessed. “He’s not the cat I thought he was.”

Leopardstar touched her nose to Tawnypelt’s ear. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Tawnypelt insisted. “I’ll be fine. Losing Wrenwhisker hurt far more.”

Leopardstar sighed. “You’re the strongest cat I know, Tawnypelt.” She’s so much like her father. Ever since she learned that ThunderClan’s previous leader, Tigerstar, had been Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw’s father, Leopardstar found it hard to push away their similarities.

Tawnypelt’s whiskers twitched appreciatively. “Care to help me with the cleanup?”

Leopardstar nodded. “Of course.”

———————————————————-

“I don’t know what all the fuss is about!” Leopardstar hissed.

Tawnypelt pushed at her from behind, thrusting her into the medicine cat’s den. “You could barely move after we brought in the reeds for the dens. As your deputy, it’s my job to tell you when you’re being too stubborn for your own good!”

Leopardstar grumbled as she padded into the medicine cat’s den, pulling away from Tawnypelt’s insistent paws. The den was situated just off to the side of the camp – a small, quiet clearing away from the hustle and bustle and bordered by a small stream.

I feel fine! She told herself, searching the den for Mudfur. I do! But she had to admit that Tawnypelt was at least a little right – Leopardstar had never felt so fatigued from the simple task of fetching new reeds. That was one of the first jobs an apprentice did for the Clan! Even now her limbs felt hollow and aching, and her stomach was hollow with hunger despite the fact that she and Tawnypelt had eaten together not too long ago.

A tremor of fear rattled down her spine. What if something really was wrong?

Mudfur poked his head out from his den. “What is it?” he asked, his jaws opening in a big yawn.

The medicine cat’s pelt was matted with herbs and blood. Leopardstar wrinkled her nose at the smell – he must have been sneaking a nap in between caring for his Clanmates. She felt badly about taking up her father’s precious time.

“Tawnypelt insists there’s something wrong with me,” Leopardstar grunted, slapping her tail good-naturedly against Tawnypelt’s shoulder.

Tawnypelt rolled her eyes. Mudfur sniffed, flicking his tail to one of the nests he had prepared for patients. “Sit down, then.”

Leopardstar sighed and reluctantly settled herself down in the mossy nest. She pushed away the relief her body felt, but couldn’t help letting out a grateful sigh.

Mudfur bent his head over her and sniffed, poking and prodding at her body with his nose and paws. Behind him, Tawnypelt watched, her eyes curious. Leopardstar tail-tip twitched anxiously. I should be rebuilding the camp! Hurry up!

“Well, that’s a surprise,” Mudfur decided, lifting his muzzle.

“What? That I’m fine?” Leopardstar meowed, lifting her head.

Mudfur shook his head. “No – it’s that you’re expecting kits, Leopardstar.”

A cold stone dropped into Leopardstar’s belly. Kits?!

“Kits?” Tawnypelt meowed, eyes bright with surprise. “When… how?” She shook her head. “Who?”

Leopardstar’s mouth went dry.

Mudfur’s fur fluffed. “Regardless of the answers, Leopardstar’s expecting. We caught it early, so that’s good.” Her father’s eyes sparkled with pride. “Looks like you’ve gotten out of camp duties! You always searched for an excuse for that when you were an apprentice…”

Her father’s joy didn’t help the sour feeling in Leopardstar’s belly. She dug her claws into the nest, trying to fight the urge to retch – she wasn’t sure if it was the kits causing it or the horrible feeling trickling down her spine like icemelt.

“Leopardstar?” Tawnypelt asked, leaning in. “You don’t have to tell us, but…”

“Darkstripe.” Leopardstar’s voice was hoarse and quiet. “It was Darkstripe.”

Both Mudfur and Tawnypelt recoiled. Tawnypelt took a shocked step back. “Darkstripe? I… how?!”

Mudfur’s teeth bared. “Bluestar!” he snarled, sliding out his claws. Leopardstar was reminded now that her father had once been a fearsome warrior, only shifting to being a medicine cat after she had been born and his mate had died. “Those rats!”

“Bluestar did this?” Tawnypelt breathed, eyes widening.

Leopardstar felt sick. “She was encouraging Darkstripe and me to be mates, for the sake of LionClan.” The words felt like worms in her mouth, trying to wiggle their way out. “I…” Shame washed over her like a deluge. She wanted to leap into the river and never come out. “I didn’t think…”

She looked up at Tawnypelt and Mudfur. “You can’t tell the Clan.”

“Of course,” Mudfur agreed immediately. “A queen doesn’t need to tell anyone who the father of her kits is.”

“But won’t some know?” Tawnypelt wondered. “I mean, it could be obvious…”

“I know.” Leopardstar swallowed. “But if they know…”

“You just made a speech about not blaming the kits for their parents’ mistakes,” the tortoiseshell deputy pointed out.

“I know,” Leopardstar sighed. But she thought of Blackclaw, of the cats that held those prejudiced beliefs inside of them despite knowing that it was wrong. She thought of Stonepaw, driven from ThunderClan because Bluestar was his mother. “This is different – Darkstripe was a horrible cat. If the Clan knew that he was the father…”

“… It would be difficult to change their minds about the kits,” Tawnypelt finished. Her eyes softened as she understood Leopardstar’s fears. “About you, too, even though it’s something you didn’t want.”

Leopardstar nodded. Her throat felt tight. “RiverClan doesn’t need such problems now.”

Mudfur sighed. “Very well. By the oath I made to StarClan when I became a medicine cat, I won’t breathe a word – Tawnypelt?”

Tawnypelt hesitated, and then pressed her muzzle into Leopardstar’s fur. “As your friend, your secret is safe with me.”

Leopardstar shuddered with relief. “Thank you,” she whispered.

She laid her head down onto her paws, shivering with emotion. She could feel the kits now, though she was sure it was some trick of the mind. Surely they were too young to be felt? A wave of protectiveness washed over her regardless.

I will do anything to keep these kits safe, she thought firmly. And they will never know their father.