[O] Aftermath

She knew she'd have to let the Clan know, as unfortunate as it was. She wasn't even sure if Pantherpaw had ever been popular among her Clanmates, but what did it matter? Pantherpaw, despite her faults, had been a truly sweet cat. Thinking about it, Cheetahdawn would have loved to be her friend if things hadn't happened.... the way they did.

As the spotted warrior entered the camp, her eye shone with heartbreak. Silently, with as much effort as she could put into it, she levered the fox's carcass to the ground. As for Pantherpaw.... Her pelt was right on Cheetahdawn's back, draped over her shoulders, it was rather noticeable. Cheetah knew she would likely receive rather scrutinizing glances from her Clanmates, but she felt no remorse. It wasn't "creepy," she didn't think so at least. It was a way of memorializing her sister's life, as short as it had been. "Another one of our cats was killed today," she announced, her heart twisting as the words sunk in. She would simply wait for her Clanmates to notice, and perhaps gather. But she wanted Pantherpaw to be appreciated, she didn't want for her sister to have died for nothing.

"Earlier this evening, Pantherpaw and I were on patrol. No other cat was with us." Her voice cracked a little as she spoke. "Things had been going fine, before... A fox came. It tried to... to hurt us. To hunt us. I told Pantherpaw to stay back -- and the fox went after me. And Pantherpaw..." Tears welled in her eyes as she buckled down in misery. All the grief of today came flooding over her, overwhelming her distaste for looking weak. Yes, she looked weak. She didn't care. Pantherpaw was dead.

Her body shook as she finished. "And Pantherpaw... got to it before I could. I-it killed her. The fox k-killed her. And in turn, I killed it." And she would leave it at that. Her Clanmates would see the predator's bloodied body without any hints, most likely. It stuck out like a sore thumb: it was a fox, for one, a fox with its throat completely torn open. Tears streamed down Cheetahdawn's cheek.

Frostpaw had been finished patrolling and thinking up better ways to train. After all, he had to improve. Stagnation of his skills did nothing for his clan. It was then that he heard a rustling from the thorn entrance. Another patrol returning, no doubt, so he paid it little mind. At least, until a voice announced the death of another clanmate.

His gaze set itself upon Cheetahdawn, a cat he knew to be a newly named warrior. Though, something was off. Her pelt wasn't that dark. Getting to his paws, Frostpaw approached, looking the warrior up and down, completely ignoring the fox near her paws. That wasn't even Pantherpaw's body on Cheetahdawn's back... it was her pelt. Frostpaw's eyes turned to an icy glare, automatically suspicious. "It appears you defiled the corpse, but did you at least bury the body? Shadowclan does not need more predators appearing." His first question was one of circumstance, even he had noted how many foxes he had fought in his apprenticeship, there did not need to be more. "You seem to be wearing her pelt as if it were a trophy. Most would not skin their siblings and would bring them back to camp to be buried in peace instead. Curious." The white tom even went so far as to pad around her, looking at the pelt on her back. It was certainly Pantherpaw's. He had only met the molly once in passing, but even then, it was her black pelt.

Frostpaw's questions had been cold, and he had completely disregarded Cheetahdawn's tears. He did not quite care, he cared more that one of his clanmates would skin their sibling. Even if she had not died by her claws, it still disgusted the apprentice to an extent.

Flintstar had been resting in his den, staring at his paws as there was an odd feeling in his chest. Pantherpaw had asked to go out with Cheetahdawn and he has given her permission but... Something didn't feel right. His ears perked at the sound of a voice - Cheetahdawn's. ...Pantherpaw was dead. He could hear the words from his den as he sat there, listening to Cheetahdawn's explanation before he started to push himself to his paws to see for himself - before he froze at Frostpaw's words. For a heartbeat, his blood ran cold before he suddenly stormed from the den to see for himself what Cheetahdawn had done to her sister.

At the sight of what was left of Pantherpaw draped over Cheetahdawn's back, a rare emotion fluttered in the leader's chest - anger. "What have you done?" he hissed as he stalked into view, eyes narrowed as his tail lashed back and forth. How in her right mind did Cheetahdawn think such a thing was alright? It was appalling, recognizing Cheetahdawn's prize pelt as her own sister. "Do you have any respect for the dead? Your sister deserved to be buried in one piece, not worn as a decoration! We are warriors, Cheetahdawn. Do you think this is what your sister would want as she watches from StarClan? To be defiled by her own sister?" He growled as he loomed over the warrior, fur fluffed to seem ever larger than he used to. "Bury your sister's pelt. You will not keep such a grim trophy in my camp."

The sound of voices roused Webshadow from his corner of the warrior's den, and he rose to stick his head outside. The sight he was met with his horrifying: Cheetahdawn, blood drying against her gold pelt, a fox with its throat torn out at her paws–

And a familiar dark pelt draped over her back like a gruesome shadow.

"What are you doing?" He hissed, an unusual sharpness to his voice. In an instant he was out of the den, rushing to join Frostpaw's side. He hardly even noticed Flintstar's approach, the leader's own reprimands. His gaze was sharp and serious as he appraised Cheetahdawn, but his expression quickly wavered and he forced himself to look down. He couldn't stand looking at the gruesome sight before him.

But–

A cold feeling settled like a rock in his gut, and the fur along his neck rose. He was angry– no, furious –moreso than he had been before in his life. Even Burningpaw hadn't brought out this level of rage in him.

"Did you skin my apprentice? Your sister?" Webshadow spat, stepping closer. His lips had curled back, and his tail had started to lash wildly. Though his legs were trembling and he still couldn't bring himself to look Cheetahdawn in the eye, his disgusted, seething tone was more than enough to convey his rage.

It was just as she had expected. Chaos erupted as cats scrambled out from their dens; Cheetahdawn shrunk under their burning glares.

And Frostpaw.... Frostpaw. Cheetahdawn found herself bristling as the apprentice came to circle her. What did he think he was doing? He dare? The audacity. The warrior's ears curled as she looked up to face the apprentice, her muzzle twisting. "Have you any idea what I just got back from?" she gasped. She'd always known Frostpaw to be an arrogant little brat, but....

Who could blame him?

She could imagine how it must look, what exactly triggered the disgust in her Clanmates' eyes. Yes, it was just as Frostpaw said: she'd skinned her sister. Defiled the corpse.

And no, she hadn't buried it.

But staring for a moment at the white apprentice was all she could do, as furious as she was. It wouldn't help anything, yelling at the younger cat. Looking around, her Clan was angered enough with her already. Flintstar came storming out of his den, and Cheetahdawn clenched her teeth.

"I.... Yes, I skinned her," she growled honestly, gaze flickering briefly to Webshadow. She straightened slightly. "Do I think it's what Pantherpaw would have wanted? No, most likely not. But how am I to know?" The tears were drying in her fur now, not that she was gaining any confidence.

"Flintstar.... I-I'm sorry. Quite honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. But Pantherpaw is my sister, as you've made clear. I'm not trying to disgrace her, I'm not trying to disgrace anyone. I wasted my time with her. And I.... Won't ever get it back. It's my fault, I know that. I want to r-remember her. I.... I can't leave her, please. I just want her back, she's dead and it's all my fault." Perhaps she was being a fool to defy the leader, to pity herself when it was her fault entirely. But... No, she couldn't give her sister up so easily. Pantherpaw..... She couldn't, as selfish as it was.

"I'll bury it, if that's what you so desire. I... I will, I just...." She just what? What was there left to say? Pantherpaw was dead, skinned at that, and there was nothing any cat could do to reverse it.

Frostpaw found himself blinking boredly at the angered warrior. Here we go, he thought. The little white tom thought that maybe she'd start trying to lecture him, maybe even take a swipe. She was obviously emotional. He had steeled himself for such an irrational action.

Yet nothing came.

"You witnessed your sister's death. That's what you came from. If you mean experiences, I have never experienced that because I have no family." Frostpaw meowed, quickly explaining that simple truth to her. He didn't care if she was devastated or not, she did wrong, and it had to be pointed out because she obviously couldn't see it. He opened his mouth to say more, but Flintstar was approaching. Respectfully, the apprentice stepped aside, allowing their leader to say his piece.

He watched the rest of the interaction from afar, curious to what would happen. Would Cheetahdawn even bury the pelt? Someone would have to go with her anyway. It would get buried. Then someone would have to go bury the body, he assumed. Cheetahdawn hadn't said she buried it, which meant she probably didn't. More work, more burden on the clan. Disgusting.

Frostpaw spoke up once again as Cheetahdawn finished talking. "It doesn't matter what you try. It matters what you do. You say you try not to disgrace her, yet you have. This is a fact and indisputable. The way to fix this is to bury the pelt, and the body if you left it unburied. I would even go with you, should Flintstar approve, the rogues will stop for nothing, not even burial of the dead." The apprentice spoke matter-of-factly, almost tired of the whole conversation. It made so much sense, why would Cheetahdawn even fight this?

Mistyfalcon had dropped a hare onto the fresh-kill pile, and had just settled near the edge of camp when Cheetahdawn made her way through the camp entrance. Tiredness forgotten, the lanky warrior hissed at the sight of the dead fox, before his eyes landed on Cheetahdawn... Who was wearing... A dark-furred pelt. No... It couldn't be the pelt of a cat. Mistyfalcon didn't want to believe that one of his own clanmates would do such a thing. The Asylum's pelt-wearing had been disgusting, but at least they'd stuck to things that hadn't been cats. A wave of revulsion made his claws unsheathe, digging into the soft earth as the fur along the tom's back lifted.

And then his other clanmates confirmed it. Cheetahdawn confirmed it. Flintstar was furious, as he should be. Webshadow and Frostpaw, too. Meanwhile, Mistyfalcon remained silent, dark eyes watching the spotted tabby icily.

"That's hardly a way to remember her by." Mistyfalcon spat, disgust evident in both his tone and posture. Mistyfalcon was of the belief that Starclan could stay in the stars and not interfere in the lives of the living, but to just... Wear a pelt as if it were her own? Why? What could Pantherpaw have possibly done to earn such blatant disrespect? Frostpaw spoke up again, and Mistyfalcon found himself agreeing, though he suddenly found that he was too angry to speak, turning away with a growl. This so-called warrior had been Murkystrike's apprentice, but clearly she'd learned little from the deputy if this was how she went about trying to 'honor' the dead.

Batglow... His friend wasn't going to take this well. Hadn't Shadowclan lost enough recently?

Flintstar kept his eyes narrowed as his Clanmates gathered, many voicing their disapproval for Cheetahdawn's actions while the she-cat seemed taken aback by it all. The leader's expression did not change as she went on about her regrets of the entire situation...Before a huff escaped the leader. While his gaze was still hard, there was a softness to his tone as he finally spoke up. "Cheetahdawn...Do you not think I know that feeling all to well?," he meowed, ears slicking back a little as he started to knead at the ground.

"I have been a terrible son, a terrible brother, a terrible father. I am not good at connecting with cats and I have lost so many who I only wanted to do good by but let down - never reaching out in time to make amends before they were gone. But this? This is not how you honor them. Your sister may be dead, but she is still with us in StarClan. Remember her from her actions, her memories - things that will last...Not her pelt, which will rot away in due time," he pointed out as he crumbled up his nose.

"Find something that she loved and treasure that. Now bury her, give her peace," he ordered with a jerk of his head, before he paused and looked down at his paws. "...You may speak to me, whenever. I know your feelings all to well - the guilt, regrets. The desire to cling to whatever you have that can remind you of the ones you lost. But this? This is not how you do so."

Basilpaw watched this strange and horrifying turn of events, tears welling in her eyes at the news of Pantherpaw's death.  She had known the she-cat since she was a kit, and had always liked her...now, all that was left of her was a stomach-churning display.  She had heard tales of Asylum from her parents, of how they wore animal pelts as disguises and trophies, but this was something much different.  A cat was not a fox or a badger, a cat was a cat.  Pantherpaw was Cheetahdawn's own sister for StarClan's sake, Basilpaw just could not wrap her head around what the young warrior had been thinking.  However, the tortoiseshell she-cat wiped her tears away and quickly retreated into the medicine cat's den, before returning with a variety of the sweetest smelling herbs and flowers clutched in her jaws.  Approaching Cheetahdawn, Basilpaw couldn't quite meet the perplexing she-cat's gaze, but as she spoke she was focused on the dark fur that had once belonged to a friend, a clanmate.  "Here, rub the herbs onto her pelt and twist the flowers into her fur.  Please, she at least deserves to be beautiful as she's laid to rest, even if she's not whole."  As her soft voice faded away, the young medicine cat apprentice quickly gazed between Cheetahdawn and Flintstar before backing away and sitting beside her father, though she was half hiding behind him.  This situation made her uncomfortable, but this was part of being a medicine cat; making sure all her clanmates were treated kindly, even in death.