Can You Hear the Drumming (OPEN Clan Topic;; Leopardstar/Marshstorm needed)

OOC: Continuation of this topic

Pricklepaw's strength had faded away long ago, but something else drove his paws forwards as he padded, slowly but surely, back to ThunderClan camp. The dead body of Beepaw hung limp in his jaws, and despite his strong form it was beginning to tire him. Everything hurt. But he knew that he had to get his brother back... had to show everyone what had happened. With every pawstep, his grief and fury grew... but so did his sense of purpose. He had to fix this, somehow. Bearpaw's crime would not go unpunished. He wouldn't have believed it if anyone had told him, but what else was to be concluded from the evidence?

Bearpaw had murdered his brother, and justice had to be served.

Finally, the large apprentice stumbled into the center of camp, using the last of his strength to gently lower Beepaw's waterlogged white form to the ground before sitting down on it himself, too exhausted to take another step. The thought of how Blizzardshine would feel made his heart ache worse than it already did. His poor, poor mother... she'd already been through so much. And now, the tom she adopted had killed one of her own offspring. Remembering what had happened, and anger on behalf of his mother, gave Pricklepaw the strength to yowl out a few words. "Leopardstar, Marshstorm! I need you!" A few more deep breaths, and he forced out a few more words, the important ones, the ones that made him hurt inside even as he said them: "Bearpaw killed my brother!"

Seething rage, pain, and a mixture of other emotions radiated from the prickly apprentice. For the most part, Bearpaw's own feelings reflected that of Pricklepaw's. However, he was void of the anger. Instead, his eyes watched the forest floor with hints of apprehension in gaze. The way that Pricklepaw spoke, the disdain in his voice and such certainty for the falsehood that he proclaimed as truth, Bearpaw almost believed it himself. Although he had wanted to protest the entire walk back to camp, none of the words settled right on his maw. The tip of his tail was the only thing that betrayed the torrent of emotions coursing through his chest. Everything else was the usual, unafflicted mask. Bearpaw tread on with a stoic grimace. It looked as if he was about to be condemned.

As Pricklepaw yowled, he bore his teeth slightly before relaxing his expression once again and said nothing for a moment. There were no right words to say. The other apprentice had already dammed him despite anything he had attempted, or rather managed to say. All he could hope was that Leopardstar and Marshstorm believed his words. They knew he was not the monster Pricklepaw and Beepaw thought he was... right? Brief glimpses of fear flashed across his expression. If they thought the false accusation was anything more, he had no idea what would become of him. But guilt still embedded itself deep within him. Beepaw was dead. Even if his last words had been spewed venom, the tabby apprentice could not help but feel bad that such a fate had befallen Blizzardshine's kit.

"I didn't do anything." He mumbled lowly as he stared at the ground, "I didn't do anything." But that was just it, wasn't it? He hadn't done anything. Perhaps if Bearpaw would have continued talking, or gotten the patrol leader, such a tragedy wouldn't have happened. The tom wanted to search for the strength to defend himself, a strength that matched his appearance. And yet it seemed to not be found. Bearpaw had not laid a single paw or claw on the cat that now laid still within the camp walls. It had not been his doing. This was merely an accident. But was it my fault?

There was a tranquility in the quiet of a camp where cats were more concerned about the morning's gossip rather than reinforcing the bramble walls several times. Marshstorm enjoyed this type of afternoon... evening... whatever time it was. He glanced towards the sky with narrowed eyes. Then sighed and looked back towards the camp itself. His anxiety towards the deeper shadows had faded since no attacks had come from them yet. He'd take the peace wherever he could get it.

Unfortunately it wasn't destined to last. The brambles shook heavily as a large sandy apprentice pushed through the brambles with a white apprentice in his jaws. The sight took a moment for him to process. His amber eyes blinked as he looked at the way the other's body was limp, wet, and still. He stood, ready to pad towards Pricklepaw before he even spoke the words. When he did, Marshstorm felt like the earth shook beneath him.

'Bearpaw did this?' He thought to himself as he looked at the large tom making his way into the entrance. Finally, the tom took a deep breath and padded over to the two cats, and the dead apprentice. His expression was unusually dark, amber eyes glittering with concern, though his sadness tried to bleed through. He had a job to do, had to keep the peace.
"That is a very serious accusation, Pricklepaw." He spoke slowly, clearly. Each word weighted with the seriousness it deserved. He turned his gaze to Bearpaw, eyes immediately looking from his large teeth to his claws. Both were clean, he didn't scent blood on him at all. Beepaw's pelt was wet, but from what he could see, unwounded. More importantly, he was the one who was on patrol with Bearpaw. "Lay him in the middle of camp. When Leopardstar gets here, you will tell him everything that happened." He turned to Pricklepaw. "No more accusations until Leopardstar gets here. I know you and Beepaw never accepted Bearpaw, but don't say something you may regret." he warned before he turned to pad towards Leopardstar's den to give the golden tom the bad and worst news.

Marshstorm pushed past the lichen barrier with a heavy heart as he stared into the depths of the den.
"Leopardstar. There's been some trouble. You're needed immediately, it's an accusation of murder." He explained briefly and efficiently as he moved aside in the darkness. The sadness more visable in his gaze now that there were no other cats but the leader to see him. "Beepaw is dead."

---

Normally, Pricklepaw's voice would have Ridgepaw bouncing to greet him cheerfully. Normally, she would pounce on him, tackle him or nudge him. This time though, she stared in shock and horror. That, that was her brother in his jaws. The words made her ears flatten. Heart sinking to the ground with her body as she looked at the wet white bundle of fur. 'No' . Her thoughts whispered desperately. 'No, no, no... Beepaw...'

"BEEPAW!" Ridgepaw yowled as she ran towards her siblings as Marshstorm padded away from them. "Stop fooling around you three! I never played a prank like this on you!" Ridgepaw looked at Pricklepaw and Bearpaw, tears welled up in her hazel eyes as she pressed her head to Beepaw's fur, then promptly licked his ear. "Beepaw. Stop it. I know I put thorns in your nest, but you can't die just because I made a stinging joke. You CAN'T" A soft whimper crawled into her throat as the other apprentice didn't move. He didn't even twitch. No matter how much she licked, even as tears streamed down her face.

It made no difference to the already wet pelt. With a sound akin to a dying squirrel, she turned from Beepaw to the comfort of the large bulky tom beside her. Bearpaw's familiar scent comforting her as she cried into his shoulder. "Make him wake up." She mewled softly with a sob.

"I heard."  Leopardstar had already risen to his paws before Marshstorm's head peeked around the thin curtain of lichen that guarded his den against prying eyes.  For most of the timeless day, he had been concealed behind the rocky walls, deep in silent thought, easily alerted to the smallest disturbance.  He had been expecting the traitors when cries began to sound in the clearing, but his suspicions had been quickly corrected; but oh, how he wished he could still be wrong.  Bustling past his deputy as he pushed out of the narrow den entrance - touching his tail apologetically to the other tom's shoulder as he bumped him -  the golden spotted tabby tom emerged into the crimson-soaked clearing, his hazel eyes narrowed but boiling with anger.  Another young cat taken from us...one of Blizzardshine's beloved kits!  StarClan, what have we done to anger you?  A growl brimming with sadness edged out of his throat as he caught sight of the limp white-furred body of Beepaw, the young tom condemned to a too early fate.  He tried his very best to push Ridgepaw's heart-wrenching cries out of his ears, turning to look at bristling Pricklepaw and a strangely relaxed Bearpaw.  For a moment he just stared down at the two young toms, before his eyes narrowed even further as he hissed; "Both of you, tell me what happened, the truth of it."  The power in his last few words palpable, the fierce flames in his pale eyes could've burned away moorland grass; he would not be fooled by two young and emotionally-driven cats again, a war was approaching on the horizon, and the last thing the clan needed was another bout of deep inner turmoil.

Hailpaw had been in the Apprentice Den. When she had sunk down into the soft nest, she had not intended to get up anytime soon. The large apprentice's thick white pelt was torn with wounds and stained a bright red. She had just returned from another battle, this time somewhere along the SkyClan border. Some of the blood was her opponents', but most of it was her own. She had underestimated her opponent and regretted it too late. At the least, her victory made the pain more bearable. With the assistance of plenty of moss, the blood had been staunched. Being too tired to cleanse the blood from her fur, she had returned to camp in that state. Fortunately, the crimson lighting over the forest aided her in concealing her injuries. ThunderClan's current lack of a medicine cat was incredibly inconvenient. They desperately needed a new one, but how would one be chosen, with StarClan's apparent silence? Some rest would have to do the trick. There was nothing else she could do, after all. Before she could be permitted to sink into the realm of sleep, however, Pricklepaw's yowl reached her ears, cutting through the stillness of camp. Those few words caused all thought of rest to vanish from her mind.

In a flash, the ThunderClan apprentice was on her paws. The sudden movement agitated her wounds, but she barely noticed the stabs of pain. Taking hasty pawsteps, she emerged from the fern-woven den. There stood Pricklepaw in the center of camp. Bearpaw stood to the side, his expression unreadable. What really caught her attention, however, was the bundle of white fur lying at Pricklepaw's feet. She did not need to look at the body's face to know whose it was. Beepaw. The sight caused Hailpaw's blood to freeze. As she struggled to process what was going on, she stood unmoving, yellow eyes stretched wide. Is this really happening? Ridgepaw reacted before she did. The calico darted towards Beepaw, her yowl of anguish serving as a reality check. Stumbling, Hailpaw quickly regained her balance and limped over to the group. No. No. Please, don't! I beg of you, anything but this! A silent plea for mercy rose to the empty sky.

For the first time in her life, Hailpaw was witnessing the phenomenon known as death. How cruel StarClan could be. Ridgepaw's agonized cries rung in her ears. Beepaw's silent, unresponding corpse reflected in her wide gaze. His pelt was soaking wet, and he appeared uninjured. It was quite clear that he had died by drowning, a fact that only made his death seem more terrible. How he must have suffered, as he tried desperately to draw breath. While her sister wept, time seemed to have ground to a halt. A small but irreplaceable piece of her world had just shattered. In silence, her maw opened and closed. She had to comfort Ridgepaw, wanted to comfort her, but words died on her tongue. The smaller she-cat pressed her face into Bearpaw's tabby pelt. "Pricklepaw..." Hailpaw whispered hoarsely, line of sight flicking to her older brother. "This... Beepaw... W--why is he--? How..?" The fierce apprentice who usually maintained a fearless, confident attitude appeared genuinely distraught. The thought that came almost immediately to her mind was that of their mother. "Blizzardshine. M--mom needs to know. Someone needs to tell her..!" How would the spotted white warrior react? Her heart seized in pain at the thought. The physical pain she was feeling at the moment did not even seem to matter anymore. If this was a dream, she wanted to wake up before her mother arrived. She did not want to see it; the grief that their mother would display.

As the shock slowly wore away enough for her to think clearly, Hailpaw turned to face Bearpaw. Pricklepaw had accused him. He had accused their adopted littermate of murder. "You didn't do this, did you?" She asked, pain and disbelief coloring her tone. Her voice began to rise in volume. "As much as Beepaw hated you, you couldn't have killed him! Pricklepaw's misunderstanding! That's not the kind of cat you're supposed to be! You're supposed to be..." The words caught in Hailpaw's throat, and she choked them out. "family." Leopardstar had arrived now. She was aware of his presence and heard his demand for an explanation. Nevertheless, she did not take her eyes off Bearpaw. "Is what Pricklepaw said correct?" She asked quietly. A cold, hard light glinted in her eyes. "Tell us the truth. If you really did murder Beepaw, I'm going to kill you." The last words were not spoken purely out of grief or denial, but were one hundred percent serious. Despending on what unfolded from then on, Hailpaw really had the intention of killing her adopted brother. Already, her claws were unsheathed.

Sitting by his brother’s limp form seemed so unreal, even though he knew what had happened. Every second his emotions changed places, disbelief taking hold for a few seconds before moving on to cold anger, then an overwhelming bout of grief that would leave him gasping. Why did it have to be this way? Why would StarClan do this to them? Beepaw had such a long life ahead of him… he would have been a great warrior of ThunderClan. Now, thanks to his adopted brother… he never would be. Pricklepaw stubbornly ignored the large, long-clawed tom as he came in behind him into the camp, likely wanting to know what his fate would be. To be honest, he was wondering that too. Would the deputy, Bearpaw’s mentor, even believe him? Because the murder had been as cowardly a method as drowning, without using claws or fangs, it would be hard to prove. But Pricklepaw knew what had happened since he’d walked in on that scene. It was obvious. Bearpaw had murdered his brother, and he intended to see justice for it.

When Marshstorm came, his words confirmed the apprentice’s suspicions. This couldn’t be as easy as just telling them what happened- Bearpaw would have time to make up a lie, too. And he would likely be believed. Well, he would just have to be as persuasive as he could. Bristling slightly at the inferrence that his common sense would be swayed by his dislike of the tom, Pricklepaw simply nodded stiffly, hoping that Leopardstar would be more reasonable. However, his train of thought was almost immediately interrupted by three other cats.

Ridgepaw ran out first, and her reaction tore at the fresh wounds in his heart. The pain and grief he’d felt when he first discovered his brother’s dead body in the river returned at the sight of his sister’s tears. It shouldn’t have to be this way. She should be happy, laughing at a prank she’d pulled, enjoying fresh-kill together in the middle of camp. Not this. Never this. But then, something else happened that made his fur raise- she ran to Bearpaw and pressed up against his fur in her sorrow. Had she not registered what he’d said yet? Because of his sister’s obvious anguish, he didn’t roughly shove the tom away like he wanted to- instead, he gently guided Ridgepaw’s weeping form away from the murderer, silently daring him to do a thing about it. If he tried to do so much as lay a paw on her, he’d have his evidence- and no one would blame him for what he’d do to the tom if he even attempted to take away another of his siblings. “Don’t touch her,” he hissed to Bearpaw, eyes still full of accusation for what he’d done. He didn’t deserve to be comforted in his guilt. He knew what he’d done.

Then Leopardstar approached, fury evident in his gaze. However, the anger wasn’t only directed towards Bearpaw, but towards him as well. Probably for disturbing his nice day with such a “horrible accusation”. Honestly, what was he supposed to do- pretend it was an accident? Act like it never happened? Let some other cat put their filthy jaws on his brother’s body? He nodded at the leader’s request, slightly offended again that any cat would assume that he would lie about something this important. He didn’t like Bearpaw, yes, but there was no way he would accuse anycat of something so serious unless it was the truth. And it was. He was about to begin speaking, but then his other sister Hailpaw came out. It hurt just as much to see her reaction, the same initial disbelief, then sorrow, then rage that he had gone through. Just the fact that every single member of his family had to go through that was enough to bring a fresh wave of fury at the injustice of it. Blizzardshine, his sisters… every one of them was affected negatively by Beepaw’s death, and by Bearpaw’s crime.

“I wish that I hadn’t had to make the accusation,” he began slowly, voice low and devoid of all the emotions he felt. “But what I am saying is the truth. I was out in the forest, going to join the patrol that was already out because I couldn’t join one of my own. It’s been hard training, since Snowdrop… left. When I was walking, I heard a yowl- and it sounded like my brother Beepaw. Of course, I ran to see what the problem was. I thought maybe he was fighting off an intruder, or a fox or some predator. Little did I know he was only with his own Clanmate.” The scene he’d stumbled upon flashed vividly before his eyes as he told the story. “When I got there, however, I was too late to save him. Beepaw was floating dead in the river, and Bearpaw was walking away from the scene. My brother, dead…. and my adoptive brother to blame for it.” Sorrow was evident in his tone despite his attempts to keep it clear and rational. “Even if he hadn’t deliberately shoved him in, he had been there for a while. There were grooves from his claws in the mud, and some signs of a struggle. Even if he wasn’t the cause of him falling in the river… he could have helped him. He could have saved Beepaw’s life. And he didn’t.” Pricklepaw looked up, his sage-green eyes staring through Leopardstar’s. Grief choked his voice. “I am telling the truth. Why would I lie? All I want is for my family to be safe.”

Grief was palpable in the air, he could taste it on his drying tongue. The inside of his maw felt like he had licked the bark of a tree. Speaking seemed like the most arduous of tasks. As Ridgepaw wailed, Bearpaw's eyes only reflected pain. He was sitting, accused of a crime to awful to speak, and all he could do was feel sorry for his adoptive kin. Comforting them was more important than his honor, than more hateful words spewing from Pricklepaw's maw. All he wanted to do was make sure they were okay and sit in his own grief of the loss of a clanmate who he had considered his brother. But Pricklepaw did not allow for it. When Ridgepaw had leaned in, the tom wanted to speak but by the time words threatened to come, the spikey-furred apprentice was hissing at him and pulling away the younger she-cat. Instantly he felt cold and alone. Standing there feeling the unrestrained hatred of another cat he had considered kin.

Hailpaw faced him, reflecting the question that hung heavily in the air. He had told Pricklepaw, and he would tell the others. Not for his own sake, but for the sake of the truth, to answer what wrought their minds. They deserved honesty. The thought of shedding a poor light on his late adoptive brother spread the feeling of splinters down his throat. There was nothing else to be said though. Bearpaw had never once considered telling a lit, it was simply something that did not cross his mind. Now, he sat in the reflection fo Pricklepaw's beliefs. He knew that the younger tom hated him for some reason, something that had spanned the entirety of their kithood and apprenticeship thus far, but he never believed Blizzardshine's kits would paint such a horrific picture of him. As he stared down at his claws for a brief second, waiting for Leopardstar to speak, the tom could not help but think that perhaps they were right he was a monster. His malformed paws had only ever been used to defend and feed the clan. But was there something else wrong with him? Something he couldn't see?

The thought of there being something within him, something awful, it wrecked the apprentice's normally non-intellectual nature. Instead, he was plagued with all the words that had been spat at him in the span of what felt like several sunsets but was merely a matter of some moments. The length across the territory. Bearpaw's ears flattened and he longed for the warmth of Ridgepaw again, for the luxury of being allowed to grieve with those he thought of as his family. He wanted Hailpaw to understand that it was like she had thought, that he would have never hurt Beepaw. All he wanted was for them to be together and sit in this pain together until it washed away and was replaced with the love of their family. She hadn't come yet, Blizzardshine, and already the agonizing thought of watching her agonized expression was enough to make him want to fall onto the forest floor. But he stood there, desperately trying to focus on the reality of the situation.

When Leopardstar arrived, Pricklepaw launched into a fabricated account of the event. Bearpaw's breathing was slow, almost choked. He didn't try to push or correct, he didn't even think to. His green eyes finally tore up from the ground when there was silence, everyone waiting on him to speak. Glancing briefly at Marshstorm and then at the clan leader, there was a silent plea underneath the obvious pain and lostness of his expression, "He attacked me and tried to throw me to the ground saying I was a monster. I don't know why he hated me so much. But he did." His eyes flicked back to his pelt where strands of long, white fur clung to his side where Beepaw had tackled him. This pause also allowed him to push out the strained words. They hung low in the air, each once spoken in the manner that they had settled in his mind. Disbelief, incredulous, painful. It was worse than a tough piece of freshkill stuck in his throat.

"I told him we could talk when we got back to camp and try to fix whatever issue there was before I went to get the patrol leader but before I could go far, he had fallen in the river. And moments later was... dead." The final word caught on his teeth. It hurt to say because it made it more real. That was when his voice cracked, losing its usual unchanging roughness. Bearpaw stopped only for a moment again as he looked up at Leopardstar, "I would never hurt a clanmate. And never my kin. Not even one who hated me as much as Beepaw. Despite his anger, he never deserved death." His sorrowful expression, unnaturally readable, found its way to the normally fluffy white tom whose fur was now plastered down with water. Bearpaw's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, showing more emotion than he had in likely his entire life. He did not care what happened next, whether or not judgment would pass over him. All he thought of was how Beepaw's face had been twisted in rage and how it now looked terrifyingly peaceful.

As the words left Pricklepaw's maw, Gladepaw felt an overwhelming numbness. It couldn't be happening, there was no way, Bearpaw wouldn't murder Beepaw. She hadn't liked her adoptive brother at first, but in time she'd realised he was family. There was no way he'd do this, Bearpaw was so kind, so gentle, despite his outwards appearance. Gladepaw would of never thought him a murderer, and that was why it hurt, so much more than it should, for her.

Her steps were slow, trying not to betray her mind. The white she-cat was trying so hard to not crumple to the ground, they couldn't know how she felt. She had to be strong, she had to hold it together, for herself, for her mother, and for her siblings. She couldn't bare to look at Beepaw's limp form, she knew it'd brake her facade. Heart was thumping against her chest, and all the voices dull, her mind consumed with grief for her brother. It felt like she wasn' truly there, she didn't want to be there, she wanted to be anywhere but here, even on a hunting patrol.

Gladepaw removed her eyes from the ground, gazing upon the scene before her, something she didn't want to see. It shouldn't be like this. Beepaw should be taunting Bearpaw, Pricklepaw by his side, Hailpaw and Ridgepaw planning some prank, Streampaw would be doing Streampaw things, and she'd be doing whatever she felt like. Even if that image wasn't perfect, it was what she was use to, and what she had grown to love, and now it was all falling apart. Why was StarClan so cruel? It was their fault. They'd brought Lichenmask and his followers upon the forest, condemned them to an endless darkness, and now they dared to take her brother from her. Anger seethed through her body, infuriated gaze directed towards the starts.

Her paws ceased to move. Beepaw's body was barely a mouse-length, a sight Gladepaw refused to look upon. Yet, now it was there she couldn't tear her eyes away. Beepaw's eyes wide with terror, pelt soaking, a pool of water forming around it, but most disturbing to the apprentice, was how Beepaw's maw was closed, it gave him a peaceful appearance, one that did not suit the rest of his body. It shook her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not bearing to look upon it. eyes shut, she bent down, touching hr nose to Beepaw's. "Safe travels, Brother." she muttered voice trembling, hoping if that Beepaw was here, at least in spirit, he'd here.

Gladepaw stod up, paws fumbling, almost tripping. She couldn't function, what with her mind so far from here. Her joints were stiff, unwilling, as she moved to face her leader, deputy and family. "Is this real?" her voice didn't sound like her own, so hoarse, yet thick. "I don't... " she struggled to find the correct words, to describe how she felt without giving it away. "This... This is not how it is suppose to be. We are... We are suppose to be family, but Beepaw's gone... And everything's wrong... I'm- I'm wrong." her voice braking, as she uttered the last bit, and for a second she was really there. That second, was all she needed for her facade to break. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

The dark tabby tom didn't take the bustling leader's shove to heart. He simply nodded, accepting the apologetic tail tap as he followed immediately behind him. Black ears flattened as he saw Ridgepaw, an apprentice usually so happy and irrepresable, wailing and pleading with the body in the middle of camp. Hailpaw's white pelt not far behind as she made her demands and her own threats. He eyed her readied claws with dissapproval.
"Put your claws away." He meowed curtly, amber eyes glared at the young apprentice, daring her to defy his order before he took a deep steadying breath as Leopardstar spoke. Marshstorm moved to stand at the golden leader's side, eyes staring at Pricklepaw as he spoke his version of the events.

He nearly flinched at the reminder, Snowdrop was one of the Lichenmask traitors. Still, surely Pricklepaw wouldn't have been afflicted by those heinous ideologies. He listened with patience, gaze turning to Bearpaw at the mention of the other tom walking away from the drowned body. Whether he caused the death or not, he would be having a talk with his apprentice about that. His gaze flicked over to the pile of white fur on the ground. Laid out as it was, he could see all the more clearly that there were no wounds to be found.

So at least he hadn't struck him. As Bearpaw laid out his own version, Marshstorm felt a heavy weight fall onto his chest. He almost wished he could see some form of wound, if only to show that Bearpaw had tried to lift him out of the water. The only thing they had to go on was the wet pelt, and words. He thought about it carefully. Chewed over the knowledge that he knew about Bearpaw and Beepaw as equally as he could. Wishing he had been on that patrol.

"Bearpaw." He meowed calmly, despite the heavy feeling in his chest. "No matter which account is true, I am deeply dissappointed in your failure to pull him from the river." His words were heavy with dissappointment that could hardly be conveyed with such words. "However, I know you." He turned his gaze towards Pricklepaw. "I also know you, Pricklepaw, and Beepaw never accepted Bearpaw as your mother did." His tone didn't change as he addressed the other apprentice with an equally dissappointed gaze. "Your hatred towards him hasn't been hidden. Despite that, Bearpaw is not the kind of cat to just kill one of his own clanmates, let alone his kin." He turned his gaze towards Leopardstar. Despite his own feelings, he knew it was ultimately his decision to decide what was true. "Bearpaw is a good cat, and I see no wounds at all on Beepaw. With claws and teeth his size, if he had pushed Beepaw down or struck him, there would be evidence." He explained calmly, forcing himself to be rational, even though he wanted to yowl at everyone that his apprentice wouldn't have done such a thing... surely... right?

Falconpaw gasped at the sight of Beepaw's limp body. Not a claw mark on him. "B-Beepaw?" She looked between the gathered cats, in shock. Beepaw, her friend, the cat that she had followed every pawstep of since they were kits... was dead. She had always imagined they would have their warrior ceremonies together, and now... She stood silently, for once having nothing to say. He couldn't be dead... they could have been more than just friends, she had always thought of growing up with him.

Her shock hardened into resolve. If Beepaw would never become a warrior, she would just have to do it in his honor. She would train every day, fight twice as hard. Hunt twice as hard. She would become the warrior Beepaw would never be able to become.

Ooc: C H A R A C T E R D E V E L O P M E N T

Harepaw's ears pricked and fur fluffed at the loud, mournful yowl. He was on a solo hunt just outside the camp when he smelled death on the wind, and the sight he returned to shook him deeply. He wasn't too close to Blizzardshine's litter; he went on an occasional patrol with them, and of course shared a den with them. He really only knew Bearpaw and Beepaw from his kithood. And here they were this day- or night -with one dead and the other being blamed. He'd heard both stories and Marshstorm's response floating through the gorse tunnel as he walked through, and now stood frozen at the entrance. He didn't have the emotional bond that the other apprentices had. He only had his trust and familiarity with Bearpaw, who was deemed at fault by Pricklepaw. Could he have really done it? Didn't Beepaw try to warn him when he was younger?

Yes, he really did... something about being the son of Shade. Harepaw had heard nothing but bad things about Shade. But did blood really mean that his friend was doomed to act the same way? The stoic apprentice wasn't even reacting. He was far too calm... the small tom shook his head and slunk away from the entrance, circling the crowd to stay out of the way. He really couldn't doubt his friend, not now. Marshstorm seemed to believe him, and Harepaw believed Marshstorm, so was he innocent or not? He walked away from the body... Even Bearpaw can't be that irreverent, just to let Beepaw float away like that... Harepaw was ashamed to be so at odds within himself. It was like he didn't know what to believe. He shot Bearpaw a concerned look. Harepaw really, really wanted to be supportive, but doubts still nagged at his mind.

Leopardstar listened closely as the two apprentices revealed their accounts of the story, his eyes narrowing even further with every word.  He cared dearly for both of the young toms; Pricklepaw and poor Beepaw as the sons of his dear friend and former leader Blizzardshine, and Bearpaw as one of the last remaining descendants of Coyotefang...and Wolffang.  He had seen them all grow from tiny kits living in the same nest to apprentices with a strange vendetta against each other, and he desperately wished that Bearpaw was telling the truth.  Oh, please don't let this tear his clan apart once more...

"I hear both of you, and I believe that you both are telling the truth, just different sides of the situation.  However, that does not make me any more happy with the actions of either of you.  For StarClan knows what reason, you allowed hatred to infiltrate your lives, and now look where that's led!  Rivalries only end in suffering, and I'd say you've both paid the price."  He fixed them with a withering glare, before turning his eyes onto the body of Beepaw.  "Marshstorm is right, there is no physical evidence that Bearpaw directly caused him to drown...but I must ask Bearpaw, why does Pricklepaw say you walked away from him?  Why didn't you pull him out of the river?  There are ways to save a drowning cat; why did you not go for help?  Or...was that the reason you walked away?"  His eyes turned upon the many-clawed apprentice, his words harsh.

"Did Beepaw's hatred against you cause your heart to harden in his time of need?"

"I was walking away to get the patrol leader to prevent a fight. Too far away. I didn't realize he had fallen in until it was too late and Pricklepaw had arrived." After a moment that seemed to drag out, as the leader's speech slowly filtered through his consciousness, the apprentice realized the need to respond. The words fell flat, not defensive, merely factual. While there was none of the deeply seeded emotion that budded within his chest, it almost sounded defeated in a way. Ears falling back, not in frustration but a physical show of his own level of grieving, Bearpaw let out a slow breath. Tearing his eyes away from the still frame of kin was the most difficult thing he had ever done. The magnitude of the accusations fell away underneath the thought of losing Beepaw. There were no pleasant memories he could conjure up in the wake of this loss, at least none directly involving him, but there would be a noticeable gap in Thunderclan now.

The thought of Beepaw's empty nest in the corner where all of Blizzardshine's kits slept made him want to fall to the ground. He wanted to pad over to the body, to bury his nose in the cold fur and ignore the thought that the late tom would be cursing him from the heavens. Pricklepaw would not allow it. No one would allow him to grieve. This had become a trial above all else. The heat of several pairs of eyes burning into his pelt was lost on the several-toed apprentice. Instead, his gaze flicked slowly between Beepaw, the flattened earth, and the clan's leader. Finally settling on the last. Bearpaw's voice was low, raw with honesty that seemed to push back any other emotions as he locked eyes with the much older tom, "I would never hurt a clanmate, or sit back while one died. I am sworn to the warrior code, Leopardstar." The amount of speech that left his maw caused the ache to become a burn. Without the adrenaline of battle coursing through his veins, the apprentice felt it more than he ever had before.

An exhaustion greater than ever before swept through his mind, body, and soul. That feeling threated to bring him down equally as much as the one before. In no long days had he ever felt such weariness. Bearpaw had patrolled until his pads bled and not even that compared to what he felt now. He sought understanding from Marshstorm as he looked to the tom he was the closest to. The deputy had spent more time with him than his own father ever had. And to hear the disappointment in his voice made Bearpaw want to yowl with grief. Yet combating the words had never occurred to him. As the conversation continued on, more and more cats gathered, he found himself unable to shake the feeling of guilt. No, he had not pushed Beepaw in, or simply watched idly by as he drowned in the rushing currents. But he might as well have. He should have noticed. He should have been able to do something. Bearpaw was not a murderer, but he was a failure.