Skyclan's Newest Deputy

His paws felt like they weight more than the boulders that dotted the territory. Despite barely being injured in the fight against the dogs, the black and white tom felt an irreparable ache in every fiber of his body. They were gone. Both Crowstar and Whiteheart's bodies lay unmoving in the middle of camp. He had lay nestled between some of the cats he held most dear. At least, their empty frames. All of the warmth, the light he had grown to love in each, was completely gone. His mate and his best friend were void of... anything. The feeling that racked his body threatened to render him useless. But, he couldn't stop. As much as he wanted to curl up and never move again, to make this end, he couldn't. Now, he had a responsibility to his clan. That too was unreal.

When a nose gently nudged him, Rippedsky slowly raised his head. The black and white tom's expression was void of any emotion. Nothing was betrayed. And in those blue depths, still nothing. Everything was gone. Yet, he still had to lead the clan through this tragedy. And this wasn't like when the mist had briefly stolen the leader, no, this was real. And now, it was moonhigh. The time had come for him to name a new deputy, as was the tradition. He slowly and stiffly raised himself up. Rippedsky couldn't bear to look back at the bodies, he couldn't. Instead, he glanced up at the tallbranch. It seemed like it was a whole other world away. There was no way he would force himself up there.

The new leader padded to the front of the clearing, standing in front of cats who still mourned their clanmates. As he caught a glimpse at the stiff pelts once more, a low breath escaped his lungs. Damn. Even that hurt. After a flicker of hesitation, he mustered up enough confidence to strongly, albeit lackluster, call out to the clan, "Let all cats old enough to climb a tree gather beneath the tallbranch for a clan meeting."

Sedgestrike padded forward to the tallbranch. He looked up at it perplexed, then down. Rippedsky hadn't climbed it. His tail flicked, but he didn't find it in himself to be annoyed. Instead he padded up to his former mentor and nudged him. A brief moment of very rare caring from Sedgestrike before he went to join the front ring of cats.

Sparrowkit watched from the entrance of the nursery with a huff. She wanted to go out there and see what was happening, but no cat would let her. Especially after running into the battle like that.

Cheek resting on the jutting flesh of Crowstar’s jaw, Elmcloud hardly took notice of how the rapidly drying blood matted and stiffen the normally silky fur he was resting upon. The only coherent thought that bounced around within his shock-heavy mind was the juvenile concept of fostering warmth and life back into the limp form of his father. Pressing his nose deeper into the wispy fur, the chill radiating from Crowstar’s limp body only made his bones ache more fiercely. The wounds that tore and ripped at him were well-hidden from the eye, leaving them to fester and corrupt the remaining healthy flesh below the surface. No amount of herbs would take the edge off of the insurmountable pain that roiled within his soul.

Even Rippedsky’s summons went straight over his head, his heart refusing to accept the current situation. He didn’t want to see Rippedsky replace Crowstar. He didn’t want to see some entitled, incapable brat replace Rippedsky. He just wanted things to go back to normal. Curling more tightly around Crowstar’s hastily groomed form, Elmcloud couldn’t even summon the energy to open his eyes for the awaiting ceremony.

Swiftpaw, who had been hiding in the nursery with Moonlight since the dogs had been defeated, barely lifted his head to Rippedsky's call. He didn't care about whatever it was he had to say. He knew he should, but all he wanted to do was curl up in his nest and avoid everyone, everything, and anything he could. But he knew what lurked when he fell to his dreams. Undoubtedly the wretched creatures that killed Crowstar would prowl beneath the cover of his nightmares, but that was something for another time. The white, bulky tom begrudgingly lifted his sore body and hulked towards the clearing, settling himself nearby his now dead mentor in the middle of camp. His gaze fell on his lifeless body before it finally settled on his paws beneath him, not bothering to train his eyes on the new leader before him.

The world felt like it was spinning.

Honeypaw staggered, dragging a throbbing foreleg across the cold, hardened ground; Rippedsky's summons finally getting her to her paws. Somecat had moved her to the side of camp, away from the chaos...

Her head ached like she had never felt before, where the beast had hit her... The beast that ravaged her home, leaving crimson stains seeping into the sand -- ones Honeypaw spent long stretches staring at, as she slowly regained consciousness.

While she had been fighting it was all a blur -- chaotic like thunder crashing around them -- but now, as she blinked away the dizziness... it was quiet. Too quiet.

It only took Honeypaw a moment of limping from the sheltered corner of camp to realize why.

Crowstar was...

A lump formed in her throat; her mouth turning dry. Why was Crowstar just... lying there? Why was Rippedsky near the tallbranch -- his expression so solemn and sorrowful it sent a stinging pain through Honeypaw's chest? Why was Elmcloud...?

"No..."

Mallowbrook walked out of the warrior's den and sat down. She was blind so she didn't know what was going on. She scented death and felt the feeling of sorrow heavy in the air. Her bones chilled and she shuddered. What happened? She located Elmcloud and began to slowly approach him. She sat down next to his lying body. Sorrow radiated off of him. Then it hit her. As if she had traveled to the Thunderpath and due to her blindness, had been hit by a monster. Crowstar's scent was fading and one of the scents of death was from him. No! He was dead?! She couldn't believe it...she really hoped this was just a nightmare from Starclan and she would wake up. She layed down and pressed herself against her grieving friend for comfort. The clan was mourning greatly and she doubted this memory would disappear from the minds of cats around her. She didn't know where her father was but what mattered that instance was to help her clan-mates recover back on their paws.

Blossomheart noticed that Honeypaw was unsteady. She stood next to the smaller cat so she could lean on her. "It'll be okay, Honeypaw." She hoped.

Russetpelt padded over, sitting by Swiftpaw. He was still in shock from what had happened. Crowstar has been SkyClan’s leader since when Russetpelt was born. It was gonna be odd not having him around.
The warrior stared up at his soon-to-be-leader. Rippedsky was certainly gonna make a great leader. He couldn’t help but crack a smile. He was grieving Crowstar’s death, but now here comes a new leader and deputy. He would focus on the positive, but that didn’t mean he was gonna forget Crowstar. Never would he forget.
But still it was hard to focus on the positive. How could he do so when’s their leader just died? Hazelpaw didn’t seem to care. If she was there when it happened she’d certainly be more effected. Crowstar was gone, it was hard to believe, but now Rippedsky was gonna be leader, and there was gonna be a new deputy. New things can be great. But Russetpelt and many others would definitely miss their former leader.
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Hazelpaw padded out of the apprentices den, going to sit by her father. She wasn’t in camp when the dogs attacked, so when she came  home to all of that.. it was pretty shocking. She glanced up at Rippedsky. She was so curious on who would be the new deputy!

The camp was silent, the heaviness of the air slowing everything down for Quietpaw. He lay, unmoving, staring blankly in the distance, waiting, shivering now and again. His eyes were dull, clouded with unearthy disconcern. Something in his gut told him that it was normal, that cats died every day anyway. But this was Crowstar. Through all of the mourning and depression, he kept his frame still like a statue. He wanted Drizzlepaw, he wanted desperately to tell her about what he was feeling. The music in his ears hurt, a single, high-pitch ringing as his eyes lost focus again and his head rolled to one side before snapping back into possition.

The deputy spoke. Shut up. he wanted to yell back, his eyes bearing into his with the same, light and peaceful look. The Clan was weak now, and they chose to be this way. Quietpaw allowed himself to drift back away from reality, losing himself in thought.

Poplartooth didn’t handle grief like other cats did. He had seen the body of his deceased leader, and he had been filled to the brim with pain. The death of a leader always drove a Clan to sadness. However, the warrior had done a fine job at hiding his emotions towards the subject. He wasn’t going to cry or yowl. He considered that to be a sign of weakness. There was something else stirring inside his belly. A light, cleansing feeling. Relief? Was that what it was? The tom had no idea why he felt so relieved. Maybe it was because he was still alive, and Drizzlepaw was still alive. Mumblefoot was still alive, too. The first thing Poplartooth had done after the battle was scan the camp to see if he could spot the familiar black-and-white figure. Fortunately, he had seen the other warrior. Confusion seemed to chew on the fluffy tom’s neck. Why did he care? All that truly mattered was the fact that his apprentice was alive… right? Poplartooth silently settled down with his Clanmates. The somber attitude tainted the air. The future of SkyClan was now on the shoulders of Rippedsky, who would soon be Rippedstar, and Poplartooth could only hope that an appropriate deputy would be chosen to bring the Clan to greatness alongside the new leader.

Moonlight looked from right outside the nursery, fur wet as she clearly had been crying for a long time by now. She just couldn’t help it, Crowstar had been his hero and role model for so long, since she could remember, and now his cold body laid still in the middle of camp. She knew his sacrifice had been a noble one, and that he now watched all of them from the stars…but it didn’t take away the pain.

She knew what this ceremony was about, after all, Rippedsky was going to become a leader soon and the clan needed a new deputy. She knew he would choose well…or at least hoped so.

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Hawkstrike probably was the grumpiest and least tolerant cat in camp at the time. His nice guy mask forgotten as a frown showed on his face and his fur was slightly rising. He hadn’t even allowed the medicine cat to tend to the obvious serious wound the dog’s bite had left on his flank and back because he couldn’t tolerate to be close to a cat with such a tight connection to StarClan at the time.

Any cat that had approached him and tried to talk with him to get him out of his peculiar grief had gotten a good couple insults and four claws to the face, so most just left him alone now.

In his mind he once more found himself deep in his darkest thoughts, he blamed StarClan by taking away the only friend he had left, ruining his life yet again. Such thoughts caused his claws to slide out of his sheathes and dig deep in the soil below him as he took a spot between to crowd. He was doing this out of respect for Crowstar only, knowing the older tom would’ve wished him to be present in this ceremony…but if he had a said he would’ve preferred to stay alone in his nest for the rest of the day.

~ Gillkit padded out of the nursery. He had literally slept through the dogs, although had since been informed. He was happy in a weird way that Crowstar was dead. This was because his favorite cat and the only cat who had been nice to him as everyone else had bullied and teased him was becoming leader. He was excited for Rippedstar, although he was upset knowing that cats actually liked Crowstar. to Gillkit, Crowstar seemed rude, unfair, and bad. Pushing these troubling thoughts aside, he sat down and embraced happiness knowing that his friend no, his best friend was leader. He also knew that he would soon be an apprentice. ~

His paws still trembled ever so slightly as he made his way across the clearing. Mumblefoot slowly, and stiffly next to Poplartooth. There was something about the larger warrior that reassured him and pushed back the numbness. He offered a dull glance to the other tom before staring, unblinking, at his father. Unreal. This was still unbelievable. But, he had not woken up yet.

Trying to keep a straight face, Mumblefoot let out a low and shaky sigh. As much as he wanted to be strong and be tough, it felt like everything was falling apart. He tried to maintain a neutral expression. It kept failing. His orange gaze flickered down to the ground and studied the dust intently. Thankfully, this part was freed from the still sticky scarlet that painted the clearing. Mumblefoot just wanted to sleep. Soon.
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His near lifeless gaze scanned the assembled group. Each one looked as broken as he felt. Rippedsky wanted to hide. He did not want to face them. They did not want to face this. But, it had to be done. A sense of duty tugged at his chest, through the numbness that otherwise ruled at the moment. Crowstar was likely up there, waiting to see the clan pull through, to see his former apprentice to lead them all. Both forepaws kneaded the ground to try and get a grip. The black and white tom needed to get himself together.

If he were not overtaken by the grief, the former deputy would have likely felt the panic that was buried somewhere inside. He had never considered this. Rippedsky had hoped his mentor would live forever and that he would never have to make this decision. He was at a loss. Something nudged him and his eyes snapped over to look at Sedgestrike. Something flickered in his eyes as he looked down at his former apprentice. That... helped. If nothing else, he would manage for his clan. They needed something secure.

What would Crowstar choose? Briefly, he considered it. There were several options, this was a good clan. Finally, he nodded slowly and broke the silence, "I say these words before the body of Crowstar, and in front of Starclan, that they may hear and approve my choice. Poplartooth will be the new deputy of Skyclan." It was short and simple. And finally over. He was too exhausted to address them further quite yet. If he was not so... tired, the black and white tom likely would have been satisfied with this. Young, yes. But, something told him the warrior would continue to serve his clan as well as he had so far. Most of his deputyship had been learning. Likely it would be the same for the young warrior. After a quick nod, he flicked his tail in dismissal. They would discuss things soon. Now, the clan needed to recover.

Blossomheart gasped and turned to her brother. "Congragulations, Poplartooth! You'll make an amazing deputy, I know it!"

It looked like he was sleeping.

Crowstar lay on his side; his son and clanmates touching noses to his pelt, as if sharing tongues. If not for the grief etched in their expressions Honeypaw didn’t know if she’d have thought any differently – wouldn’t have stopped short a fox-length from her leader, tail falling.

Her mother hadn’t liked him – even before she fell ill and hated everything, Honeypaw remembered. A kittypet lover, she called him. Weak. But Honeypaw saw him – how her clanmates grieved – and she didn’t know. She didn’t know anything.

But there was an emptiness in her chest, at the sight of Crowstar’s still form. It was like when her mother finally passed, lungs hacking their last bitter breath until she breathed no longer. Honeypaw didn’t know them enough to really grieve, in her heart; didn’t have many fond memories to recall and make her eyes water and chest tight, like the cats around her. It just felt… numb.

But then she felt warmth at her side, bringing her back to the camp, and how Rippedsky called them around. Her ears flicked as her glossy amber eyes glanced up. It was Blossomheart.

It will be all right, she’d said. Honeypaw took in a shaky breath and then nodded, letting the pang of grief in the older she-cat’s words reach her heart. Crowstar may not have been a cat she’d known, or known what to think of… but he was Skyclan. Old Skyclan. And she knew – even if she couldn’t quite grasp it – that that meant something.

When Rippedsky stepped forward, his voice carrying across camp, Honeypaw straightened. She didn’t remember Poplartooth – as an apprentice, Honeypaw still felt she knew too little – but Blossomheart was calling his name beside her. If he were Blossomheart's brother...

Honeypaw nodded, raising her head to yowl her congratulations as well.