Dead Red [OPEN WIDE]

The world was numb and grey. A sad day had arrived and all he could was carry the body of the dead deputy on his back, hoping to give her a proper burial in her homeland. The SkyClanners who did this run away, leaving them all confused and mourning for the sudden murder of Redwing. Together, wounded physically and emotionally, they arrived at the camp, leaving a bloody trail behind. Lynxscar pushed forward and gently put the body of the ginger she-cat on the floor, deciding it would be up to Thornstar what to do with her and pay the proper respects for the fallen warrior.

The young warrior wanted to shout, scream, chase those who did this and murder them by his own paw. But even he, who was usually driven by anger and hate, knew this wasn't a day to earn revenge. Today was a sad day... it was the day Shadowclan would have to say goodbye to Redwing. "Shadowclan! Thornstar! Something horrible has happened...!" Despite the fact being undeniable, it was still hard for him to say verbally that... Redwing was dead. And all because of his hot-headed attitude...

Ravenmist slid out of the nursery, ears pricked with worry. Lynxscar? I smell Redwing... and blood. Oh no, oh no, no. She leapt towards her former apprentice, fur bristling. “Is Redwing...?” She choked off, voice brimming with worry and grief. Poppyheart’s mate, her sister-in-law... Well, half-sister-in-law... Dead?

At the sound of his mentor's voice, Flintpaw slowly worked his way out of the apprentice den only to pause at the sight that was unfolding at the center of the camp. The strong scent of blood was the first thing to hit him, causing him to winkle his nose before he saw it...Redwing's body. "Oh," he hummed softly. Well, that was a shame. He hadn't known the she-cat all that well but it was clear that Thornstar had trusted her. But there was no sign of grief anywhere on his body as he watched the Clan start to gather. He simply accepted things as they were - they lived a dangerous life, a death was prone to happen. He stood off to the side, watching quietly as he came to realize that this meant a new deputy would have to be chosen soon.

Cardinalpaw followed close behind, still shaking. Redwing was dead. Dead. Gone. Forever. To Starclan, she hoped. But... Still. A snapped neck. She had died. Cardinalpaw had gotten lucky. Redwing had not. If only she hasn't crossed the border... it was all her fsult, wasn't it? There wouldn't have been any trouble if she hadn't tried to mark it herself. And now the deputy of Shadowclan was dead because of her. It was all she could do to keep her trembling knees from giving in beneath her. She'd never seen a cat... die before. Redwing's eyes had been still open. Watching for nothing.

She should have stayed in camp today.

Shadepaw peered out of the apprentice den, but before she could do anything her body froze. She saw fur, splattered with blood "wait.. oh no! Redwing!.. And Rowanfire is... Oh no..." She unfroze and ran to grab her friend "Rowanfire! Rowanfire, you have to look, something, something's happened, it's Redwing!"

Sans stood there in stunned silence, staring at the lifeless body of Redwing. She had been one of his truest friends, once upon a time. Way back in the day, it had just been him, Poppyheart, Redwing, and Sparkfeather. The four of them against the world. Forever the best of friends.

Everything had become compromised the day Sparkfeather had died. She had just been an apprentice, but had been granted the name of a warrior by his late father in honor of her undying bravery and loyalty to ShadowClan. Ever since then, he had fallen into a pit of depression, nothing more than a shell of his former self. It had taken him forever to recover from his first true love's death, which was made easier once he started falling for Thornstar.

Now Poppyheart was going to feel every bit of pain and hopelessness he once had.

He knew better now than to keep these sorts of things secret from his beloved littermate. He had done that once before regarding their true birth mother, and he had nearly lost his brother because of it. Now, he knew he couldn't keep the inevitable from him, even if he absolutely knew he would lose his brother in a different sense of the word.

Sans turned to his four kits. They were apprentices now, sure, but that didn't mean they were old enough to experience the death of a beloved ShadowClanner. They didn't need to see this. "Why don't you four go fetch Mothpaw, then wait in her den," he murmured to Flintpaw, Frostpaw, Sparkpaw, and Nightpaw. He had been speaking gently to them, but his half-blinded eyes locked on them with a sternness that told them his order was not to be challenged.

---

Sparkpaw had slipped out of the apprentices' den, following after Flintpaw, to see what all the commotion was about, getting ready to tell these noisy cats to take their nonsense elsewhere and let her go back to sleep; she had had a long morning of training with Daisyflame and she needed to rest. However, the words died on her tongue once she saw the limp and lifeless russet body of Redwing laying in the center of camp. She stared in shock and bewilderment. How in StarClan's name did that happen?!

Before she could get an even closer look, her father began ordering her and her littermates to fetch Mothpaw and stay in the medicine den until further notice. Immediately, she wanted to object, but the harsh glare Sans directed at her actually made her flinch. He looked terrified and livid. She had never seen her father express such strong emotions before at such a high capacity.

Deciding to uphold their father's wish -- just this once -- Sparkpaw turned to her brothers and sister. "Let's just go get Mothpaw." She led the way to the medicine den at the far end of the camp and slipped through, quickly finding her kin in the back near her herb storage. "Mothpaw. It's Redwing. She's ... She's dead."

---

(OOC: I recommend listening to this while reading the following for it to be a real tear-jerker.)

Roused awake from his well-earned nap after a successful hunt, Poppyheart lifted up his head from his curled position in his moss bed. He yawned and stretched out his limbs in a delicious stretch, then gave a delighted purr of content. Now that he was well-rested, he would be ready to head out again, this time with Redwing. He knew just what kind of strain deputyship was putting on his mate, and so he aimed to bring her out for hunts every now and then, just the two of them, to help her escape from the world and enjoy spending quality time with him.

The camp outside suddenly erupted with loud, panicked shouts. Curious to learn what had happened, and wanting to know if he could help in some way, the tom leaped up out of his nest and gave his fur a quick shake to loosen the bits and pieces of moss from his bushy russet pelt. Just as he stepped out of the den, he had caught the tail end of a cry from one of Silent Snows' kits: "...something's happened, it's Redwing!"

"No...." Poppyheart whispered in horror. Eyes wide, he looked to the center of the camp, where he saw a few of his Clanmates dragging along a limp russet form with an awkwardly crooked neck.

It was Redwing.

"REDWING, NOOO!!" Poppyheart rushed passed the gathering cats to his deceased mate's side, staring down at her in horror, tears already beginning to bead in his eyes. Redwing's eyes stared out at nothing, and her body didn't move, indicating she wasn't breathing.

Redwing was dead.

With a loud sob that echoed throughout the camp, Poppyheart collapsed onto his belly, his legs no longer strong enough to maintain his weight. He crawled to his beloved's side and buried his muzzle deep into her fur, trying desperately to drink in her scent and ignore the ever-growing stench of death between whimpers and whines. How could this happen? Everything had been just fine, hadn't it? Why did this have to happen now? Why did this have to happen at all?

"Redwing, Redwing, no, don't go! Don't leave me, please, I need you! Oh, I need you so bad!" What was he going to do without his beloved mate, his best friend? He had never wanted to imagine a world without Redwing, but now he had been thrust into this living nightmare that he would never be able to wake up from. This shouldn't have happened.... Why did this have to happen.... Please don't let this be happening.... "Redwing.... Please come back to me.... I love you...."

Flintpaw watched in silent, slowly feeling conflicted as he started to gather the taste of the despair that was filling the clearing. Why? Why was everybody freaking out? He had grown up on tales of how his grandfather had died in battle with foxes, of other cats who had lost their lives...It was going to happen to all of them one day, so why was everybody making such a big deal of it? It was a shame, yes but... He glanced over to his father as he became aware of his presence, pausing at his words. What? What were they, kits? The sight wasn't pleasant, yes, but it was something they would have to grow accustomed to...

But then Sparkpaw broke off, heading toward Mothpaw's den and slowly, Flintpaw turned and padded after her. He had reached the entrance of the den as his sister slipped in, only to pause at heartbroken howl that stole his attention. Poppyheart. He watched as his uncle came sprinting from the warrior's den, pleading and begging for Redwing to return to them. He felt his heart sink, a flicker of anger in his chest at himself - why didn't he care...Or was it that others cared too much? But there was something in his uncle's voice that caused Flintpaw to turn away from the medicine cat den, ignoring his father's orders as he moved to his uncle's side. Upon being closer, he could see the grizzly aftermath of whatever had happened to the deputy, of how her body was twisted unnaturally...

But it clearly didn't phase him on the outside as he came to a stop next to his uncle, quietly pressing himself against there as a comfort of sort. He tried to think of words to say, but none were helpful in this moment. He didn't sympathize for one - he felt...Nothing, at the sight. He knew Redwing was important, she had been the deputy after all and a very trusted cat but...Nothing. Not even a flicker of sadness, just a calm acceptation of how the world worked. But the more he gathered the cats around him were grieving, the more out of place he felt and confusion at himself. He couldn't make himself care about it, he didn't know how to...And so he simply focused on being there for Poppyheart, wishing he could understand what he was feeling in even the slightest way.

Standing alongside Lynxscar as the patrol stopped as they entered camp, Daisyflame let out a sigh. ShadowClan had lost too many lives in the past couple of moons, but he doubted it would stop there, seeing as though Redwing's death wasn't something that would be taken lightly. Lifting a paw, the ginger and white warrior began licking one of his wounds, waiting for the rest of his clanmates and Thornstar to arrive. Today, ShadowClan had lost another member of their clan, one who's life as a warrior and deputy had barely even begun.

Frostpaw stared up at her father, too bewildered by his tone to think of disobeying him. She trailed after her siblings, her green and yellow gaze trained on her paws. She didn't know what was happening...
No, that was a lie. She knew full well what had happened. Redwing, her mother's deputy, had died.
It was... strange.
Frostpaw wasn't sad, per se. She felt numb. She knew that death was a part of life in the forest– the two walked side by side, after all –but it had always seemed far away. A Riverclan queen had died in kitting. A Thunderclan litter was brought down by greencough. These were distant sadnesses that Frostpaw barely felt a ripple of.
But this.

Her wandering paws sent her crashing into her brother. "Flintpaw-" She began, but by the time she got the words into order in her mind, her brother was gone.
Sparkpaw had already gone to talk to Mothpaw. Fine, let her be the one to do it. For once, Frostpaw didn't feel a flicker of competition or jealousy. She quietly stepped into the den, her dark tail twitching in time with her slow, dragging pawsteps. She sat down to wait.

The tom could not face Poppyheart's face and he simply looked up to his leader. He stood up in front of the patrol and faced Thornstar, his face showing resolution and regret. "It's my fault. Cardinalpaw wandered a little far off the border and a Skyclan patrol tried to chase her away. Redwing apologized... but I was so fed up in my own head that I didn't realize that with my words... I could start this tragedy. If there is someone to punish in the clan, that's me. Not Cardinalpaw." The large warrior bowed his head, willingly to face the punishment the leader could come up to him. However, there was something else that had to be said. "However... I humbly ask for one thing. Though I started the sparks of tensions among the two patrols, it was Skyclan who crossed the border and attacked us. A Skyclan warrior killed Redwing, threw her from the top of a tree. When she was on the ground... there was nothing we could have done. So, please... Thornstar, whatever you decide for me... we have to avenge Redwing. Her murderer must be punished for breaking the Code."

Poppyheart lifted up his head slowly from where he had his face buried in Redwing's fur. He stared at Lynxscar for several moments, eyes seemingly expressionless, though there was still a fierce coldness within them. He didn't blame the newly-appointed warrior for Redwing's death, because according to him, SkyClan had ultimately attacked first.

SkyClan had killed Redwing.

SkyClan had killed Redwing.

His eyes began to darken with an ever-growing fury that was very unlike the usually jolly and peppy warrior. SkyClan, the supposedly neutral Clan who sided with and rivaled against no other Clan, had made a grave mistake in killing ShadowClan's deputy. In killing his mate. Now, he knew just how his brother had felt when Sparkfeather had perished. Sorrow mingled with rage within the russet-furred tom, and he welcomed it. It was better than feeling just sorrow. Plus ... it would fuel his strength when ShadowClan fought SkyClan.

He would make sure ShadowClan would teach SkyClan a lesson.

"They won't get away with this," he snarled lowly, shifting his gaze to Thornstar now. "Thornstar. SkyClan has killed our deputy. They have challenged us. We must make them pay. We cannot allow them to get away with this."

"Poppyheart," Sans' nervous voice spoke from behind him. His littermate approached, looking very concerned and sympathetic. "Look, I know how upset ya are--"

"We should not let the cat who killed Redwing live, Asterspark!" Poppyheart leaped up to his paws and rounded on his brother, glaring murderously at him, hackles raised, looking almost as if he were confronting the very same SkyClanner that had caused his mate's death. "SkyClan has done this to themselves! We will make them pay! What if Thornstar had been on that patrol and SkyClan had killed her? What if one of your kits had been there? Sparkpaw, Flintpaw, Nightpaw, Frostpaw, what if one them had died on that patrol?" Sans glanced away guiltily, taking a few steps back from his outraged brother. Poppyheart nodded firmly with an angry snort. "That's what I thought. So don't try to calm me down, Asterspark. We must make SkyClan pay."

Whipping back around to face Thornstar again, he approached her until he was only a couple tail-lengths from her face. "Thornstar, I am begging you. Let ShadowClan teach SkyClan what happens when they kill one of our cats over something as trivial as a border skirmish. If we don't teach them a lesson, we will be seen as weak; they will not hesitate to kill again. Please, Thornstar." He fixed his hard amber stare on the leader's mismatched green eyes, filled to the brim with the itching need to deliver karmic retribution upon those who had killed his mate, ShadowClan's deputy.

What? The lack of feelings that had been burdening Flintpaw disappeared at his mentor's words, his gaze glancing toward him. SkyClan had done this? Why would they... Did they not think that they would be angry? A feeling that Flintpaw had never felt before wormed its way up his spin, clawing at his heart. He had been accepting of Redwing's death when he hadn't been aware of what had done it - but now that he had known it had been truly unjustified, done at the claws of another cat. He was...He... He struggled to put a word to the feeling, certain that he knew it but was unsure when it came to realizing what he was feeling now. He was...

Angry.

Poppyheart was angry. Flintpaw took a soft step away from his uncle as he snarled for revenge, leaping and roaring at Sans as his brother tried to calm him down. He was angry...And so was Flintpaw. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he listened to his uncle's plead and vows, half-listening as much as his brain would allow as he stared down at the twisted, broken body of the deputy. "I agree," he spoke calmly once Poppyheart had finished, not removing his gaze from Redwing's corpse. "Redwing wasn't deserving of this - SkyClan broke the Warrior Code when they took her life..." he murmured, before he fell silent. He knew the Warrior Code, it was to be their guidance in how to rule themselves...It wasn't his place to act but this...SkyClan had broken one of the core laws. Justice had to be met, before they thought themselves as above it...