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DEATH was nothing beautiful. It didn't arrive along with the warm winds of the flock nor flutter in the afternoon breeze. It was a haunting feeling. It came swooping down like a single black feather; sweeping and trembling before it fell into the earth. Death circled in the sky, painting shadows of dark wings along the dust barren roads.
He remembered his death as though it was his own name. It would forever belong to him; the flash of headlights from the grumbling monster, the feeling of his claws trying to grip into the concrete- but there was nowhere to run, the screech of tires and the screech of his sister, "Deadrush!"
It hit him instantly. He was torn from the breath of life and suffocated in the next world. His death was painless but when he awoke in hell, he was full of pain. The longing to return to the real world was worse than the monster he had been hit by and the darkness swelling within him soon became darker than the forest he dwelled in. Desire had the power to give him whatever he wanted at whatever it cost- he just needed the right cat.
Once he found the lake of fire he would watch it all the time. Good spirits would come to take a drink, to bathe, to have a splash and spray, but none of them held the longing he was so desperately searching for.
Deadrush would see a hundred cats a day and none of them would drown in his bait. None of them wanted to dig their teeth into the meat of desire. They all knew it would be a messy feast but her- she was starving.
When he first felt her presence over the water, it felt as though he was staring straight into a reflection. She was in pain due to longing, like him, she was willing to do anything to return to the home she loved. He knew the deal was signed before she even fell through.
"Larkmoon."
"How do you know who I am?"
Because you are me.
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The morning glories withered at the kiss of the cold wind. Their delicate purple petals tousled in torture, hiding from the vicious frost. Larkmoon understood the flowers completely, she feared the frisky wind, not wanting to leave the warmth of the warrior's den. The she-cat poked around, her eyes barely open from the exhaustion tugging them down.
The morning was more gray than usual. It wasn't colored in the brilliant spring blush, instead all new life seemed to be tired of living. Ash-colored clouds tumbled across the sky, making it hopeless for anything to look beautiful.
Larkmoon gathered the energy in her bones and moved out into the cold. She was instantly confronted by a crisp current, the winds delighted to tease and tug at her tabby fur. Above the wind, voices arose around the center of the camp. It lured her attention, causing her ears to point towards the commotion. Larkmoon hurriedly moved to the middle, the conversations growing blatant among her fellow clanmates.
"Do you think she's dead?"
"Where else could she have gone?"
Sounding like hauntings from ghosts, the whispers taunted her ears and awoke a heap of guilt sitting inside her chest. It stirred through her blood and made her feel hot instantly. The elder! She could see the memories from the previous night were still stained to her claws in a blood-red manner. Glancing rapidly around at the panic glistered among her clanmate's eyes set off a panic within herself. It's not my fault! Her subconscious was quick to lie. But Larkmoon remembered the moments all too clearly- she got carried away in the sensation of killing- the only feeling that made her feel truly alive.
"Larkmoon!" The sudden appeal of her name scared the chestnut she-cat. In seconds, she whipped her around, and her chest tightened from fright. They caught her! "Woah- sorry I didn't mean to scare you."
The relief of the sight of her small apprentice washed over her soul like a giant wave. Larkmoon relaxed her tense frame, exhaling a long sigh before she spoke, "What do you need, Redpaw?"
The apprentice bounced in pure excitement, her happiness was bright enough to shine through the thick clouds. "I had an amazing catch today!" She began while letting her story trail onwards, "I got a squirrel but..." Her blabber slowly faded to the background as Larkmoon's attention was torn away.
The ginger she-cat focused on the opposite side of the camp, seeing Hollowhawk and Webstar suddenly appear from the dark shadow of the leader's den. They seemed to be acknowledging each other in intellectual silence; a conversation no other cat could comprehend.
"Are you listening to me?" The red cat's voice finally clawed back into Larkmoon's thoughts. She turned to the young cat with a clueless look, not having heard a single thing she said. Larkmoon's jaws opened to tell her lie, but she forgot that the hunters could sniff out and catch anything. Even lies. "You're not, are you?"
Feeling no remorse for her thorn-like apprentice, Larkmoon's eyes continued to leap around. She found who she was searching for: Hollowhawk, who was dangerously dancing around the rumors of the crowd. She could see by his hard expression, he was avoiding the questions fired at him by his clanmates. "I'm sorry Redpaw, I have to go-"
Redpaw slumped down in somberness, "You never have time for me anymore." With her head dipped to her paws and a sad flick of her crimson-colored tail, she wondered, "Am I too difficult to teach?"
Ignoring the guilty prick Redpaw's question stabbed into her heart, the tabby she-cat shook her head, "I'm busy, Redpaw."
Suddenly seized by the passion opposite of sadness, Redpaw took to her proud paws. The fire dashing through her veins brought back the redness of her coat. It all looked too familiar to Larkmoon; the energy, the blood-red color, the anger. She ignored the memories that stained her mind. "I thought you loved me as your apprentice!" Redpaw shouted, "What happened?"
Strangled in strands of guilt, the ginger warrior decided she had heard enough. "We'll talk later, Redpaw," She dismissed her apprentice with a sharp tongue. Finally, Larkmoon gathered up her senses like picked flowers, and with a long stride forward, she left the rooted apprentice behind.
The trail of her curiosity was not an easy one. She wriggled through the swarms of ThunderClan cats, following the path that led straight to Hollowhawk. He was on the go, barking orders at the search patrols. As the sound of his voice increased, the crowd began to decrease; the chase for the missing elder ensued.
When Hollowhawk's stressed yellow eyes saw Larkmoon at his side, he eased instantly. A reassured smile spread across his lips, painting him in a golden hue. "I'm so glad to see you." His yellowness was always a gorgeous sight.
Pretending to have not a single clue, Larkmoon frowned, "Why? What's going on?"
Hollowhawk's color faded as she asked. The smile was wiped from his face and a breath was sucked into his lungs. The truth seemed so heavy, it was like it crushed his chest. "Elderrush is missing."
Larkmoon walled in her trueness with a facade of fakeness. She allowed her eyes to gape open with shock and her mouth to remain dry with speechlessness.
Hollowhawk acknowledged her shock sadly. He rose to his voice once again, sounding as if his consciousness was shrouded in stigma. "It's all my fault she's gone." He admitted, the yellow in his face was polluted by the gray situation. "Last time I spoke to her, she was completely out of it."
"Out of it?"
He nodded his head solemnly. "Yes, she wouldn't stop going on about how good my bad mother was and then-" Hollowhawk paused abruptly. With a face scrunched in concentration, he retraced over the memory. The brown tabby continued, still unsure whether he was recalling correctly, "She mentioned you."
Panic rose to Larkmoon once again. Like a creature living on the inside of her ribs, her heart began to clamber around within her chest. "M-Me?" She stumbled, her whiskers growing hot with the feeling of being caught. "What could she possibly say about me?"
"She said that you died moons ago." To much of her surprise, Hollowhawk chuckled. His laugh rolled off his tongue lightly, ridiculing the sentence. Larkmoon relaxed and laughed with him, though a part of her was disturbed. How did Elderrush know? Is there anyone else that knows? Questions she wished she had the answers to tortured her head; they pounded at the walls of her brain, giving her a damaging headache.
Hollowhawk seized Larkmoon in a close embrace, his warm breath tickling the ends of her cold fur. "Don't worry Larkmoon, I don't believe her." He smiled, "I mean, how could I? You're right here." His voice was of StarClan's song, something that roped her into a divine feeling. The ginger she-cat fell into his embrace, burrowing herself like a rabbit in the shelter of his comforting fur. They stayed like that for a minute that wasn't long enough.
But Larkmoon soon remembered she hated the feeling of heaven. So, she removed herself from Hollowhawk's embrace, overwhelmed by the celestial sensation he gave her. "I hope she is okay." Anything to escape another death, Larkmoon changed the subject back to Elderrush.
Hollowhawk allowed his eyes to wander off to the entrance of the camp. Larkmoon could see his thoughts ambling around in his eyes. "Me too but I wouldn't be surprised if she's dead." He said. "She's been gone for years."
Larkmoon followed his eyes to the tunnel, but she already had all the answers. Elderrush was dead. And it delivered Larkmoon much comfort to know that Hollowhawk thought she was delusional. If only he knew...The she-cat's subconscious voice mocked the tom's ignorance, pleased she had camouflaged back perfectly into life. But there was one thing that was certain to keep Larkmoon awake at night. And she would kill to have the answer beneath her claws, how did Elderrush know she had died?
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