Tearing Through

The breeze blew ever so gently, dancing over the surface of the lake and toying with the dark, sun-dried fur of a single, lone cat washed ashore. Songbirds twirled and played in the delicious, crisp air that always seemed to come after a heavy rainfall. It was one of those kinds of mornings that energized and refreshed you to your core, driving you to dash out with some of your buddies on an early patrol or even try your luck at a brisk morning hunt. That bright sun and cool breeze just begged you to stretch your legs and go on a run.

It was almost as if it was trying to make up for all of it's sins from the night before.

Drawn to the dark warrior's side by... who knows what. Curiosity, maybe? Or even something as simple as hunger. A small, chipper sparrow fluttered down to perch beside the cat's body. He ruffled his tiny brown wings, before settling them comfortably against his back and cocking his head at the motionless body. After staring at her for a long moment he seemed to lose interest, opting instead to peck at the sand and hop about aimlessly.

He continued this for a while. Pecking... hopping... making odd patterns on the sandy bank as he went about his day.

Maybe he was wondering what such a creature was doing so close to the water's edge.

Maybe he was just trying to see if the strange cat happened to have any food for him.

It didn't matter however, for as our tiny feathered friend unintentionally neared the warrior's head, his life was abruptly cut short by a flash of long, ivory claws at his belly. He hadn't even have a chance to lift his wings before his body fell lifelessly to the sand. The she-cat lifted her head, fixing her one good eye on the small creature, noting how that brilliant red quickly darkened his normally quite dull feathers.

She hadn't meant to kill him.

She hadn't even realized he was there, honestly.

Heaving herself to her paws, she stared down at the little brown bird, a slight twinge of guilt prodding at her chest. She lightly touched her nose to the sparrow, paying her respects to the small thing. If her brother's death had taught her anything, it was that a life taken needlessly should be honored...

No matter how small... or seemingly insignificant.

After a moment of silence, the she-cat lifted her head and began to scan her surroundings.

Where was she?

She'd been in situations like this before, and for a moment, she wondered if she'd somehow ended up in the clutches of twolegs again. She quickly banished the thought. There was no way. After all, the heavy pawsteps of those big, clumsy creatures would have woken her as soon as they came anywhere near the camp.

So.

Where was she, and how did she get here?

She wasn't exactly the type to sleepwalk.

Dull irritation rose from the back of her mind as she idly wondered why 'normal' was apparently an inconceivable concept when it came to the happenings of her life. First the twolegplace, then that star-forsaken loner Starlord and---

A cold realization hit her, as if snow had been dumped over her head.

She was missing someone.

Multiple someones.

Where were her kits?

Single eye wide and fur spiking in immediate, unconstrained panic, Thornbriar whipped her head around frantically. A raw, unearthly yell tore from her jaws as she took off in a run, the tiny brown bird left forgotten in the sand.

It all came back at once.

"Sootkit!"

The rain.

"Tanglekit!"

The lightning.

"Brackenkit!"

The crash.

"Sablekit!"

The screaming.

"Firpaw!"

The flood.

"Where are you?!"

This was wrong, this was all wrong. She was dizzy with worry. She'd told them to hang on, to dig their tiny little claws in, to bite down if they had to... so where in the stars were they?! Tears pricked at her eye, terror shredding at her rationality with claws sharper and longer than that of even a badger's. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think.

Where were they?

"Kits!!"

Her frantic run slowed to a trot as her growing distress began to sap all the strength from her muscles. This couldn't be happening. There was no way.

But she couldn't deny it.

The events of last night made her question how she had survived the flood. Something so catastrophic had to have claimed the lives of cats much larger and stronger than she... so the chances of five helpless kits surviving on their own...?

Nonexistent.

Hopelessness flooded her.

Not her kits.

They were all she had left.

Thornbriar felt tears begin to stream down her left cheek, soaking into her fur and darkening it with her sorrow.

How had this happened?

Why?

How had she lost them?

One moment they were there, fine, happy even... the next.

Gone.

And what in Magpiestar's name was Starclan doing?!

A sudden, tormented screech tore from the queen's throat, Thornbriar turning her face to the sky to address those who had already failed her so, so many times now.

"How could you?! Don't you think I've lost enough?! First you foxhearted, pathetic excuses for cats take my brother, then you rip my parents from me, and now you steal away my kits?!"

She slammed her forepaw down, slashing hyper-extended claws at the sand beneath her in a fit of rage and loss. Pain lanced up her leg as a single claw caught on something, the razor sharp appendage being torn from her paw with a white-hot flash of pain.  It hurt but... the feeling was laughably dull by comparison to that which was currently tearing her chest to pieces. Stars, she couldn't breathe. She felt broken, betrayed, as if her very heart was being wrenched from her chest and slammed back in... repeatedly... endlessly. She had failed them.

Her brother.

Herself.

And now, her kits.

She had sworn to protect them. To give her life for theirs should any harm come to them.

She failed.

She let them go.

The large she-cat collapsed in the sand, emotion overtaking her in ways she'd never even thought possible.

This was it. She was done. The battle scarred, once proud Shadowclan warrior was tired of fighting. Tired of failing her clan, and tired of failing her blood. She turned her face to the clouds once again, hopelessness echoing as deep as her soul.

"Take me too."

The words were barely a whisper, tears streaming down her cheek.

It was too much. Somewhere, deep in her soul, she knew without a doubt that they were gone. They had left this world last night, joining her parents, and the uncle they'd never met... and she knew it.

She wanted to go too.

"Sootstrike, take me to them. Take me home, I can't do this anymore." She rasped, letting her head fall heavily to the sand with a dull thwump.

She waited for it... but she knew he wouldn't answer.

He never did.

She was all alone in the shadows once more...

And this time, she just didn't quite have the strength to claw her way back out again.

The distant cries of another cat rang hollowly in the warrior's ears. She didn't move. A large part of her hoped the other cat would just keep walking, leaving her there to wallow in her misery... alone. She just didn't want to be found. She didn't want to be saved... after all, who had been there to save her kits?

Certainly not her.

But as luck would have it she seemed to have unintentionally gained the other cat's attention, and as she heard those pawsteps speeding towards her and a telltale shout of her name, she knew exactly who had found her.

The large she-cat made no attempt to move or even lift her gaze as her apprentice approached. She felt empty, drained to her core. The sudden, abrupt loss of her kits had knocked all the fight from her and now? She was done for.

Mothpaw wasn't going to change that.

She had every intention of ignoring the kit, playing dead or something until she walked away and left her to the elements... until the young she-cat spoke again.

"I missed you..."

Somehow, those three, heartfelt words tore through the warrior just as mercilessly as the loss of her children. How could she have possibly missed her? Thornbriar was fairly certain the kit was just as scared of her as the rest of her young clanmates. How could she miss someone like her?

Lifting her head, Thornbriar met the apprentice's bright orange eyes. Half of her wanted to tell the kit to leave. To never come back. After all, she'd probably just get the girl killed, just like all the rest who ever depended on her. At the same time, she knew that Mothpaw's chances of survival on her own were slim. Leaving the she-cat to fend for herself would be just as bad as tossing her into the lake herself.

That raw, ragged hole in her chest kept her from actually opening her jaws and speaking to her apprentice, but she was sure at this point her expression said it all.

She just didn't have the energy to put up a thorn barrier right now.

Her eye widened sharply at her apprentice's words.

That was a good question...

Were they going to die here?

She stared at the black tabby beside her blankly as she contemplated their situation. If she were honest with the kit beside her, she'd tell her that the chance of survival in this situation was nearly nonexistent. However, with the apprentice looking at her like... well like that, there was no way she could tell her that.

But she wasn't about to lie to Mothpaw either.

Instead, she did something that she'd never thought she'd do.

Shifting her weight with a heavy sigh, Thornbriar tucked her long tail around Mothpaw's body and drew her in close. The fate of her kits was tearing her to shreds inside, but this little she-cat still had hope for the future.

She knew she had to protect that.

"I'll keep you safe." She spoke in such a low tone that she wasn't sure if the apprentice had even heard her gravelly words.

Even if she hadn't, it was fine.

The promise still stood strong, the words running far deeper than just her obligation to the she-cat as her mentor.

Even at the cost of her life, she'd preserve Mothpaw's.