Fate Deals a Cruel Hand [Closed]

There was a faint sound of rushing water up ahead. Coyotefang knew he was getting close to the border. His whiskers merely twitched at the idea. He had no personal quarrel with the Riverclanners, in fact, he appreciated what Ivystar had done with the brute that was supposed to be his clanmate. Although, seeing how torn apart Tatteredleaf was over the whole ordeal had bothered him. And Sharptooth. And Leafstorm. Each one seemed to spark emotions in him that would forever go undiscovered. But, he could not stop seeing the former tribe cat's tortured expression. The tabby shook his head trying to forget it. She was the only cat he truly had a soft spot for, even more so than Sharptooth. The scarred she-cat's personality reminded him of his mother and he had grown an ever-present, albeit silent, respect for her. It now caused knots to twist uncomfortably. Hopefully her tribe of endless... whatevers takes care of the whole afterlife thing so she can see Specklefang again or something. It was funny how he had always blatantly disregarded the ancestors of the clans, but had picked up an inkling of belief in hers. Maybe it was how convicted she was on the matter. More than likely, he felt like he owed it to the she-cat that shared traits with his long-lost mother.

None of this was anything he wanted to think of now. However, the silence offered no help in abashing the torrent of things on his mind. Coyotefang had left to forget everything was there; he had left to forget the sons that had just been born, bearing him as their father. The title meant nothing to him. Both would be far better off with him at a distance. Living in the same camp would be hard, but he managed thus far to step away. If he was lucky enough, Eaglekit and Hawkkit would barely ever know his name. Eaglekit's name still sent a chill down his spine. That was the one thing he had managed to contribute as a father. If nothing else, he hoped the young tom would grow to be something better than him and better than their clanmates. Bearing the name of a legend would surely help.

Marshpaw had made his opinion on things clear. Knowing their connection made Coyotefang more apt to listen to him, but the younger warrior was intent on his decision to not be a part of raising his kits. A dissatisfied growl left his maw. He hadn't realized how frustrated the whole thing made him. A flash of white suddenly appeared before him and the warrior took off after a split second of hesitation. Finally, a distraction. Coyotefang's paws kicked up snow as he lay chase to the animal. It was too fast for him, but the feeling of his muscles pounding beneath his coat felt right. It was too late when he realized where he was. Immediately, he unsheathed his claws and tried to stop his paws from slipping on the snow, and then ice. His haunches fell to the ground. Nothing stopped him as he slid after the hare. When he did finally stop, his place was dead center in the river. The catch had disappeared into deadened brush on the opposite side.

"Mousedung."

"Mousedung indeed." Shrouded in the reeds, the silver leader came out of the woodworks to look on to the ThunderClanner who was trespassing. Her silver pelt glistened from all the light refracted off the snow around her, making her seem sleeker than she was. It hid the aggression in her body, as she quickly came over to meet him at the edge of the frozen river.

She was angry about the trespassing, of course she was. But the real focus of her fury was the deaths that seemed to never end in this damned lands. Though she was one of the strongest in the territories as leader, blessed with nine lives and StarClan's wisdom, she was helpless to death. Her lives would only help her, not her clanmates.

And as she looked onto this warrior, she couldn't help but think. If she was an apprentice, coming across this trespassing warrior, she would be dead. Though Leafbare had been harsh on ThunderClan, he was big and strong. His every movement was one of an experienced fighter. He would be a death knell to any one of her apprentices... This is how Rowanpaw had died, protecting his lands against their enemies.

"What do you think you're doing on my lands, foxheart? Did ThunderClan learn nothing from Specklefang's death?"

Amber eyes narrowed as he looked over at the Riverclan leader. She was the last thing he had expected to see here and now. As much as he longed to snap back a retort right away, the ice was less than helpful for a solid grip. He stood with a wide gait. Any movement would have caused him to slide and so he kept up the somewhat awkward stance to keep himself balanced. Ice was probably the worst thing since Reno. Once he had a decent enough footing, with claws unsheathed in an attempt to steady himself, he meowed lowly, "I praised you for that monster's death. This was merely an accident." The tabby had never been in a fight his entire life and now was not the moment to start. He would certainly lose. It was not that he could not fight, or was necessarily a coward, it was simply that after his father he had a distaste for anything that required he use claws on another cat or put himself in that position.

He found himself silently hoping that the she-cat believed what he said. There was truth behind it. Specklefang had been somewhat distant and cruel to her own clanmates at times, despite the relationships she had due to having many kits. Coyotefang had never seen the softer side of the massive warrior. All of that had been hidden underneath her cruelty and disdain towards those who possessed what she deemed to be impure blood. With the murder of a Riverclan apprentice, the former Thunderclan warrior had finally sealed her fate. Even if his mousebrained clanmates failed to see it, Ivystar had done them all a favor. She more than likely did not remember, and probably missed his words, but he had spoken for the killing of a murder. It was only right. That was something that made sense to him and Coyotefang appreciated what made sense to him. All of this was why he had developed a certain respect for Tatteredleaf, other than her now undying loyalty to Thunderclan, she made sense to him.

All of this ran through his head in the moment while he held his breath. Anything to make him shift would ultimately end in a painful smash into the frozen river. Coyotefang held the leader's gaze as he awaited a response. Hopefully, she would set aside the clan tensions he had nothing to do with for a moment and help him off this damned ice. Out of nowhere, a sharp crack rang through the air. His head tilted in confusion. Then, his paws shifted. Terror was written over the tom's face for the first time in forever. He glanced down to see the source of the noise, and by the time he glanced back up with widened eyes to silently beg Ivystar for help in that moment. The horrifying sound continued and before he could fully meet her eyes again, the ground broke and he fell into the frigid torrents below. Coyotefang's last thoughts were a plea for some miracle to save him. Some ancestors somewhere to pluck him from the rushing water. It was the first and last time this would ever happen.

An accident, he said. So many had died these moons from 'accidents'. The only reason, in her opinion, that he hadn't killed her was because she was a leader, not an apprentice that he could kill. Or perhaps it was because Specklefang's death had shocked them all. It was an impressive touch, calling a deceased clanmate a monster, but futile. Ears drawn back, she planned on giving him a scare to chase him off the territory.

Her hinds legs were primed for the pounce, to give him a scar or two to remember her by when the ice beneath him shattered like the clear things that twolegs often threw near the broken pools. One second, he was poised, holding her gaze, and the next, he was swallowed up into the black pits of the river.

'Save him!' A voice that seemed like her mother's seemed to scream, it sounded like the pitiful meows she'd shrieked when Rainstorm had drown her in the river. But rather than spurring her to action, it frozen her in place, rooting her into the snow/sand slurry with unwanted memories barraging her. Her heart thudded painfully in her ribcage, feeling all too big for her body as she tried vainly to fight it. ThunderClan would blame them if she didn't do something, but she just couldn't. The terror in his face resembled hers too much.

All feeling was lost in her limbs till the waters seemed to have carried him away, but when they returned, she clawed at her own feet till they bled and the hot pin-pricks of pain brought her back to reality.

"ThunderClanner!" She called out in vain.

It did not take long for the pounding of the current and the frigid temperature of the water to still Coyotefang's body forever. For a short while, the tabby fur was kept underneath the ice. However, with a break in the surface ahead, it bobbed up on the Thunderclan side and was snagged on the shore. His eyes were closed as they had attempted to block out the moment while it happened, maw expressionless. In his final moment, the tom's life had truly flashed before his eyes. A pain he did not know he could feel had torn through his chest. The longing for connection. Thunderclan had loved and praised him for his deeds as a warrior, and yet, he had done nothing. So many clanmates attempted to get close to him, but after everything in his kithood, that had felt impossible and unnecessary. Every attempt had been tossed castaway by Wolffang's son.

Lastly, he had thought of his kits. Fear had driven him away from the desire to raise them. The last time he had seen them, Eaglekit and Hawkkit were but little scraps at his mate's belly. Now, they were nearly ready to become apprentices and he still had done little more than glance in their direction. After pain came regret. How foolish was he to write off his own sons out of the fear that he would become like Reno, when he had spent his whole life to avoid such a road. He had never even fought. And yet, he abandoned them as easily as he slipped away from the only cat he had ever truly grown to love. Sharptooth had invested in him and believed in him, as so many others had, and he merely brushed them off.

And this was Coyotefang's legacy. Two little toms whose father had ignored them since birth. A mate who had been paid little attention, far less than she deserved. Spurned relationships of every kind. Nothing remarkable, nothing special. All that was left of him was a gap in the lives of Thunderclan, and that pair of young tabby cats. His water soaked carcass now began to form ice crystals on the fur. In this emotionless state, he seemed less troubled than ever before. After moons of separation and misdirection, it was the end of Wolffang's final son. This was it.

Emberheart let herself wander with her mind, waiting to see where her paws would carry her. She was avoiding her problems and she knew it, but she was okay with that. Her first apprentice had never become a warrior. Her mentor was a murderer, and was executed for her crimes. She would have to think about these things eventually, but today was not the day for Emberheart to question everything she knew, for her to rethink her entire worldview. Today was a day of mindless wandering that took her to the river's edge, not for the first time.

She gazed out onto the ice and water, and her heart stopped. She saw a familiar pelt, frozen over. "Coyo... Coyotefang...?" she whispered, though she didn't expect an answer. He was gone. Quickly, Emberheart looked to the sky, and then back to her dead Clanmate. Slowly, she stepped forward and began to drag his body away from the water's edge, and then further, back into the forest. The rest of ThunderClan needed to see this.

As she headed home, slowed by her deceased Clanmate, her thoughts wandered to the little knowledge she had of Coyotefang. He had almost been a warrior when she first joined ThunderClan, she remembered seeing his warrior ceremony and striving to stand where he had stood that day. And then he had vanished, and then he had returned. He had only touched her life at its edges, she didn't know that much about him overall. But she knew that there were others that did, others who would be devastated by this - Sharptooth, at the very least - and she felt a sting in her chest at the knowledge that she would be the bearer of this news.