If the night comes, then the night will come [c]

There was… a lot on Honeylight’s mind. Of course there was. There was talk of war everywhere he went. It was difficult to process and it made him nervous and on edge. How could he not be nervous, with his clan on the brink of war? Still, Honeylight was a warrior with duties to fulfill. He would take care of his clan, even if he didn’t like the direction they were heading in.

And of course, he still had Silverpaw to focus on. He was determined not to fail his brother the way he clearly had failed with Redice, so he’d been dedicating a lot of his time to teaching the young apprentice. He knew all too well what it was like to grow up in tumultuous times, and he could only pray to be a source of support for Silverpaw the way Pineblossom had been for him.

The night was cool and quiet, spring breeze ruffling Honeylight’s fur as he padded beside his apprentice. They were heading towards the pine grove to get some hunting done, but Honeylight figured they could talk on their way. Bumping Silverpaw gently with his hip, he looked down at him and gave him a warm smile. “How have you been doing, Sil?” He asked.

He was happy Pineblossom had taken Silverpaw in. They both deserved someone after the loss they had suffered at Starclan’s cruel hands of fate. And Silverpaw was a good kid, and Honeylight was still not quite over the joy and warmth that came with having a real family.

Silverpaw

Silverpaw was distracted, walking to the Pine Grove. No matter how hard he tried to keep his attention forward, or just on Honeylight, his mind wandered. His thoughts were circular: Nightpaw, the kits ThunderClan shouldn’t have had… war. Those weren’t conversations he’d been included in. Planning a war was, apparently, beyond the scope of apprentice duties. But he wasn’t stupid: camp buzzed with nervous energy, and the tight whispers he caught from Leopardsun and her temporarily inherited council kept him on edge. He wondered if he would be asked to fight, if war really did come. He wondered if he’d be some sort of hero, by the end of it. It was the only thought he could linger on that didn’t make him feel like his head was going to burst. Anything else made him feel small in a way he hated.

The nudge from his brother caught Silverpaw off-guard. He stumbled a step, blinking in surprise before swinging his head up to look at Honeylight. He returned the smile quickly, grinning toothily up at his mentor. Maybe he didn’t have as much to worry about as he thought. When he stopped staring into middle distance and looked at Honeylight properly, it was easier to think about other, better things, like the heat in his ears when he realized for the hundredth time that he had a family now.

“Alright,” he answered, hopping to make up for the step he lost. “Thinkin’ a lot. But I’m alright!” Alright enough, at least. Alright now, maybe. “I mean, there’s a lot happening, but… whatever. I shouldn’t bother worrying about it. Not like I get to do anything about it.” Silverpaw shrugged, nonchalant as he could be about it. “But I don’t have to if I just think about what’s right in front of me. Like… more hunting practice, and my brother.” He always felt warm from addressing Honeylight (Pineblossom and Forestbreeze, too) like they had been family from the start. Maybe he was alright now. The muddled anxiety and frustration from just moments ago burned suddenly away. Yeah, he was fine. The silent conviction widened his smile. “See? Then I’m just happy to be training with you! So I don’t have to worry about any of it, ‘cause you’re here right now, y’know?”

Honeylight kept his eyes on Silverpaw as he talked, and his smile grew further as Silver went on, eyes becoming soft and filled with even more love than before. “Aww, you big sap!” He said, despite the fact that it was him who’s eyes were misty. He planted a big brown paw atop Silverpaw’s head and ruffled the fur there, grinning at any protest from the smaller tom, his own mood picking up. “That’s right, I am here. And we’ve got lots of hunting to do!”

Releasing Silverpaw from his grasp, Honeylight bounded forward, leaping atop a fallen log and gesturing with his tail for Silverpaw to follow him. “Now, there’s plenty of frogs and lizards about, especially when we get closer to the marsh,” He said. He hadn’t taken Silverpaw to the Deep Marshes yet, and he didn’t plan on it. He had told Silverpaw never, never to go there on his own. Large as he was, any sort of deep water still made him nervous, especially with the idea of his little brother going near it. The truth was it was a fear that would likely haunt him for the rest of his days… but he didn’t mind wandering close to the wetter areas of the territory, so long as they didn’t get near the actual pools of water.

It was as Honeylight was walking, mentally mapping out the route they’d take to that he felt it. He became aware of a sense of wrong before he identified what was making him feel that way. It was a sudden swoop of his stomach, a cold shiver down his spine, and suddenly, his surroundings lost their sense of safety. These trees, rocks, mud, and pine that he’d called home for all his life felt all at once like something unfamiliar and foreboding.

Honeylight sobered up immediately, leaping down to Silverpaw’s side once more. “Silverpaw, hold on.” He says, sweeping his tail towards Silver in a protective movement, his voice suddenly hard and losing its normal cheer. “I think--”

Finally, he identified it. He had not encountered foxes very often, but their acrid stench was hard to forget. He remembered the scent clinging to Pineblossom and Forestbreeze when they had limped back to camp bloodied and beaten. He remembered the sight of the only fox he’d fought in his moons. How terrifying that had been.

Seconds after the realization hit him, a flash of red out of the corner of his eyes. Bounding out of a den half hidden by the fallen tree, the fox was leaping right towards Silverpaw. Honed battle-instinct overcame him and Honeylight dove to intercept with a hiss. Heavy weight rammed into the fox’s side, driving it off course. Honeylight did not give it the time to recover before leaping atop it. For a moment, there was nothing but a blur of red and gold.

“Stay back!” Honeylight snarled, voice deep and gravely. Whether he was talking to the fox or Silverpaw, even he wasn’t sure. Fur went flying, teeth and claws lashing out wildly. Honeylight snarled and growled, and the fox yipped and howled. It lasted a few seconds; it lasted an entire lifetime, before all things found their end.

The fox twisted, turning until it gained the upper hand on Honeylight’s considerable weight and strength. Large, sharp teeth found their way home, and bit down. The foxes jaw clamped onto Honeylight’s throat with a sickening crack and a wet spurt of blood. Pain like nothing Honeylight had ever experienced whited out his vision and made him scream, the sound ending in a gurgle. The fox jerked, shaking Honeylight’s limp body like a dead piece of prey. Honeylight thrashed, lashing out in a blur of instinct and pain, and his claws found home in return.

Dragging through the fox’s throat and neck, Honeylight’s sharp claws, which had spent far more time weaving flowers and kneading the fur of loved ones than causing violence, ripped through flesh and fur. The fox yipped, yanked on Honeylight’s throat as it pulled away, earning a choked cry from Honeylight, and dropped him to the ground as it stumbled back.

Honeylight dropped like a rock, blood splattering on the ground as he landed. He struggled to get back to his feet, unable to push himself up even an inch. The fox swung its head around, blood soaking its red chest, and though it swiped at Silverpaw, it recognized the severity of its wound. With a final snarl, the fox turned tail and ran.

And that just left Honeylight, gasping for air on the ground.

Silverpaw

“Hey, hey! Get off!”

Silverpaw swatted weakly towards Honeylight, laughing through his own protests. “I am not a sap.” He stuck his tongue out for emphasis, but he couldn’t keep his smile down now, and Honeylight had already released him to trot further ahead. He paused to smooth the fur on his head before hurrying to catch up. Silverpaw scurried over to the log Honeylight now stood on, raising up to rest his front paws against it. He grinned up, ears turned forward to listen extra closely.

Honeylight never seemed fond of the deeper, wetter stretches of their territory, but the beginnings of his explanation and the corner of marsh they occupied now couldn’t have been enough to cause the sudden and complete switch in his disposition. Silverpaw’s smile started to falter and fell entirely when Honeylight rejoined his side, stiff with fear. It scared him a little too, honestly, to hear Honeylight sound so serious. Silverpaw took a slight step back from the protective motion, watching his brother with an intent, worried gaze.

The dank scents of mud and wet-bark muddled with an acrid reek that made Silverpaw’s lip curl. It was disgusting… and familiar, almost. His nose twitched, straining to remember what carried that stench when it broke away from the tree that sheltered it, lunging through the darkness. Silverpaw yelped and pedaled backwards on instinct, but the fox’s snapping jaws were diverted by Honeylight barreling into its side, sending it heavily to the ground.

The alarm at suddenly being attacked made Silverpaw’s heart pound heavily in his chest, but when he saw it was only a fox that had been lurking, all but a healthy pulse of fear rushed out of him to be replaced by hunter’s drive. He’d already beaten a fox! And that was with Tawnyshadow, who was a lot younger and less experienced and less cool than Honeylight. He was confident his brother could handle a fox single-pawed, and even more confident because they were together. There was nothing they couldn’t do together.

The pair snapped and rolled, ripping through fur and flesh, snarling together as they wrestled. It was only a few moments. Just long enough for Honeylight’s warning to make Silverpaw stall, paws made heavy by the rough edge to his voice; just long enough for Silverpaw to refuse being deterred, just long enough for his muscles to tense in preparation to jump into the fight and help. It was only seconds.

The fox coiled out from under Honeylight’s weight, gaining leverage against his bulk. Thin moonlight caught its teeth when its head arced, mouth open— and then shut. Its jaws closed firmly around Honeylight’s throat, earning a choked scream and a faceful of blood.

“Honeylight!” Silverpaw froze, jaw still slack from his scream and eyes wide with horror. His claws sank into the earth, meant to be digging into the fox’s back by now and uselessly gripping at mud instead. That had been so fast. The sickening, metallic stench of blood bloomed, dwarfing every other scent. Its echoes had faded from the air, but the sound of cartilage and ligaments snapping still rang in Silverpaw’s ears. The blood that collected between Honeylight’s body and the fox’s was far, far too much.

Some of it, at least, belonged to the beast— he saw Honeylight strike back, raking his claws through the fox’s throat in return. The cut was enough to make the fox release Honeylight, and the sound of his body hitting the earth unlocked Silverpaw from his terror and sent him bolting forward to cover the minimal distance between them. He didn’t care that the fox still lingered, or that it swung at him when he got close; he addressed its attack with a guttural snarl, even though it turned to slink away almost as soon as it swiped toward him.

Silverpaw watched it retreat, his chest heaving. That left him alone with Honeylight, who was fighting desperately to breathe.

Delayed panic overtook his numb fear, and Silverpaw wheeled around to look down at his brother. It felt like his own blood was pouring out of him with the way his body chilled. Honeylight’s throat was just- gone. Almost entirely. There was just an ugly, jagged gash clogged with blood and shredded connective tissue where his pale golden fur was supposed to be. He looked so… wrong. A deep shudder ran through Silverpaw, sending tremors through all of his limbs.

“Honeylight?” His tiny whisper was buried by the struggle for life at his paws. “Honeylight! Honeylight, you have to get up, we-” Silverpaw bent down, grabbing his brother’s scruff as gently as he could. He tried to pull him across the ground, or haul him to his paws, but he only managed a few inches before strain made his grip release. “Honeylight, get up. We have to- you’ve gotta go back to camp, we gotta find Burdockroot or Harriertalon or someone and I- I can’t carry you that far. Come on.” The last words came as a hiss, laced with desperation rather than anger.

Silverpaw stooped again, this time to butt his head against Honeylight’s back in an effort to use his head as a wedge to prop his larger tom up. “Get up, Honeylight! We have to go! I can’t— I could run back, I think, I know I’m fast, but I don’t know how long it’ll take to get back here and I-” Silverpaw’s voice tightened, choked off by a sob building in his throat that he quickly pushed down. “I- I don’t want to leave you, Honeylight. Get up, please, we can get help— we have to get help! Please, Honeylight.”

Honeylight was in more pain than he’d ever been in his life.

There was so much blood. The fox turned tail, and Honeylight collapsed back into the dirt that had begun to be soaked with his own blood. That- that was too much blood. And Honeylight couldn’t breathe. He could still hear and see and smell, but he couldn’t breathe. And even those other senses were rapidly fading away. He found his limbs weakly thrashing, like he was trying to tread water, because it felt like he was drowning. He knew that feeling.

It was like he was a kit again, barely a ‘paw, sinking into deep, muddy water. He could feel it filling his lungs. He was small, helpless, and terrified all over again, except that wasn’t right. He’d fought before. He was a warrior. He was strong, he was brave, and maybe he wasn’t much of a fighter, but he should’ve been able to protect his own brother without dying!--

That’s what this was, wasn’t it?

Oh stars.

He was dying.

This was wrong. He shouldn’t be dying. No, he was supposed to see Silverpaw’s warrior ceremony. He was supposed to be there for his clan. He was supposed to share tongues with his parents, and see Flutterpetal and Adderdawn again when all this fighting found its end, and be there for Leopardsun through it all, and he was supposed to live. He was supposed to live. It was too sudden, too fast, too much. He wasn’t supposed to die today. He had so much left to live for. He didn’t want to die.

The lack of oxygen was making him dizzy, and what breath he did manage to gain hitched with panic. His eyes darted around, vision blurry, as they landed on Silverpaw.

He could hear Silverpaw’s voice, his panicked words. His heart ached. He tried to speak through his mouthful of blood. “S… si… Sil…” He tried to tell him that it was okay. He wanted to tell him that it was okay. There was nothing Silverpaw could do. There was too much blood, the wound too severe. Even if he could get to camp and back, there was nothing that a medicine cat could do. Honeylight had killed enough prey to recognize a killing blow. He remembered then, the killing blow Swiftheart had delivered to Fawnpatch so many moons ago. The first time he’d seen death.

He reached out to Silverpaw, trying to call out to him. He tried to say something, anything. His paw brushed silver fur, but he could not reach further. He tried to listen. Really, he did. He tried to get up, tried to help, paws shifting in the dirt, but he could barely move. He was starting to be washed with this sort of cold numbness, filling him down to his very bones, and it ached.

Tears slipped down his cheeks as he fought against it. He tried to stay alive. He felt a rush of anger towards himself. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Beespring’s screamed in his head.  ”Get up! Get up already! He needs you, you stupid oaf, what are you waiting for!? How could you fail him like this?”

But his body wasn’t obeying him.

This isn’t fair. This isn’t fair. He still had so much life left to live.

His eyes traveled upward as his vision darkened at the edges. The stars glittered overhead. Is this what the stars wanted for him? Is this the fate they would hand him? Could they not see how cruel this was?

He realized all that he was saying goodbye too. Adderdawn, and Flutterpetal. It was not through war, but the three’s shared fears had been realized. Honeylight would truly never see them again, his last conversations with them the goodbyes he’d feared they’d be.

Swiftheart, Thalia… all of these cats he loved so dearly, and he would never even have the chance to say goodbye. He could not tell them how sorry he was for the sudden exit. He could not spend one more hour by their side.

Would Leopardsun be okay? Would she be taken care of? Would she know how much he loved her, how dear her friendship had been to her, how much her understanding and company meant to him?

What of Pineblossom? She’d already lost so much, lost her children, and the stars would tear another from her? When would she find peace, her and Forestbreeze both? Honeylight squeezed his eyes shut. Stars, all he wanted for them was peace…

And Silverpaw. Honeylight’s eyes flickered open one last time as he looked at him. ”I’m so sorry.” That’s all he wanted to say. He wanted to say that he was sorry, that he was proud, that he loved Silverpaw so much… that he would be okay, no matter how impossible it felt. He wanted to promise to watch over him, wherever he went from here. But fate had stolen even his words from him in his last moments.

His vision went dark, Silverpaw’s crying fading into nothing, and his body went slack.

Honeylight’s spirit rose above it, shuddering in a breath as he took in the scene he died in. He squeezed his eyes shut again, as if he could will himself back into his body, but he couldn’t. A small form nudged his leg, and he jumped as he looked down.

A tiny kit, so small and fragile and her dark pelt dotted with stars, gave him a soft, sad smile. “Honeylight,” She greeted softly. Honeylight tried to realize what made her so familiar to him, and understanding dawned just as she said, “This wasn’t how our first meeting was supposed to go, brother.” She pressed her head to his leg, and all anger at the stars rushed out of him as a sob escaped him. One of Pineblossom’s kits, who never even drew breath; but still came to greet him when he exhaled his last.

Honeylight hung his head, exhaustion and pain washing over him. He leaned down, pressing his nose to the kit’s little head. “I’m not ready.” He whimpered, sounding as young as she was at that moment.

“No one ever is.” She spoke in reply.

Honeylight’s teary eyes flickered open again, and he turned to look at Silverpaw. “Not just yet, please.” He pleaded softly. “Let me stay with him until this is over. Even if he doesn’t know we’re there…” He trailed off, and swallowed hard, another sob bubbling in his throat. “He shouldn’t be alone for this.”

The kit didn’t reply, but she didn’t pull him away either. She pressed against his legs, as Honeylight shook, and waited, and they stayed by their brother’s side.

Honeylight has died.