An Outcry to a Friend [CAMP ATTACK]

Thymepaw could feel her world beginning to collapse around her. As her claws ripped through the fox’s flesh, the apprentice could practically feel a piece of her heart chip away. It seemed so ruthless, so heartless to treat any living creature in this way. The surrounding sounds of her Clanmates seemed to fade into the background as the voices in her mind started a screaming match. Her body felt heavy. Was it considered treason to feel conflicted as a Clan cat? Such an important part of their culture was defending their home, Clanmates, and way of life even if it meant death. It was the main reason why kits were apprenticed and taught how to fight the moment that they turned six months old. It was life, it was tradition, it was thousands of moons worth of sweat, blood, and hard work from thousands of cats across a seemingly endless span of time to keep the name of each Clan strong and powerful. Thymepaw had been brought into this walk of life before her brain was even fully developed, but now that it was, the thoughts that coursed through her mind was enough to make her feel physically ill.

Foxes were like cats in a way. Thymepaw didn’t know a lot about them, but she knew that they had families just like Clan cats did. Everything that was alive had a family after all. It almost made the young she-cat feel the slightest bit of bitterness in her throat. If even a fox could be raised by their mother from birth to death, then why couldn’t she? What had Thymepaw done to deserve that? She hesitated to make another move.

Stop being a wet leaf. A fight is not the time to feel sorry for yourself, move on.

Thymepaw’s inner thoughts only pulled her into a darker place. She had never had the audacity to even think of saying something so… mean. She would’ve been so understanding and caring toward anyone else who trusted her enough to express how they were feeling to her. How was she so comfortable saying it to herself? The apprentice felt another bit of her heart break off and disappear into the void. The apprentice felt her claws sink into the dirt as she attempted to steady herself. She needed to pull herself together before she ended up getting hurt.

She shut her eyes for only a heartbeat or so before she felt a heavy thud echo throughout the den. Panic caused her heartbeat to accelerate as she looked back toward the scene, afraid that one of her Clanmates had dropped to the ground. What she witnessed was just as terrifying. The fox laid there, bloodier than Thymepaw had ever seen before, and undeniably dead. Her blood suddenly ran cold and her limbs locked into place.

Was this… death?

The she-cat looked toward Whinchatpaw with pure fear glittering in her yellow eyes. She had never seen this side of the tom before, a side that could kill something that wasn’t prey so easily. The scene of camp ran in slow motion around her, every voice and every vibration from pawsteps on the ground sounding far away and distorted. It was almost as if she was underwater. She continued to give Whinchatpaw a wide-eyed stare before looking back down at the dead fox. She had never truly known what death was like until today. This fox’s family and friends would never be able to share love with them ever again. She knew what death was now. It was horrific. It was robbing the world of a life, of a soul. There was one less heartbeat in the world, but considering how hard Thymepaw’s was beating, she was starting to hope that her own pulse would be next.

Her jaw hung slightly open for a moment as she continued to gaze at the predator’s lifeless form. Her entire kithood had been about telling herself that Clan life was happy, peaceful, perhaps even magical. She had been so naive. Clan life was scarier than she could ever imagine, and there was no going back now.

”I’m so sorry…” She breathed out so quietly that only a cat standing beside her would have a slim chance of hearing her words.
She could hear a part of her head telling her that she had to keep fighting. There were still foxes roaming the camp, looking to pick off the cats that she called her unofficial family and closest friends, and that was her entire purpose as a SkyClan apprentice who was training to be a warrior. However, her paws stayed glued to the ground. Every body part became heavier than she could bear. She needed to prove herself as a real Clan cat, and now just a loner adoptee that the high ranks had taken pity on and decided to keep in camp.

As the blood from the predator’s veins ran down her claws, Thymepaw discovered that the scariest enemy of all was not the fox, but the anxiety that ripped through her body from head to paw.