The fur on Cloudleap's scruff was damp and cold in Seedscatter's mouth as he dragged the younger tom from the den. Whatever warmth had once existed within the now-lifeless body was gone. With a shiver, Seedscatter came to the grim conclusion that his sister's mate had been dead for a long time.
Seedscatter found himself struggling with Cloudleap's body as he backed out of the den. The dead weight pulled him down, especially after such a hard summer. I shouldn't complain; FieldClan's cats are all weak, he chided himself. Some more than others...
What had gone wrong? Cloudleap had looked to be in good health, and he had seemed at ease as of late. Seedscatter couldn't imagine how the last night's rain could have so easily sapped the strength from his clanmate's body.
His head hung low, Seedscatter dropped Cloudleap in the center of camp, shrinking away to let the crowd surge forward. His clanmates were quick to fall onto the white cat. Those closest to him wailed, while others murmured from the outskirts of the ring, circling to get a better look. Shrewtoe sat across from Seedscatter. He met her unreadable gaze for only a moment before guilt tore his eyes away.
Seedscatter didn't know how to react. Death had followed him around like bees flock to a hive; they would swarm in to add new weight to his conscience and leave before he could do anything to stop them. He didn't think there was anything that could surprise him anymore. All he felt now was the sting of guilt.
To his left, Petalpatch buried her nose in her son's fur. Brackenpaw was stuck to her like a burr, despite being made an apprentice already. Seedscatter wondered if the brothers had even moved out of the nursery yet.
Thistleflower sat close to Stoneclaw, their pelts brushing in a mutual attempt at comfort. The young couple whispered quietly, clearly subdued.
Blackpaw sat with his brother, running his tail up and down his brother's back, who remained unresponsive as he stared at his paws.
Seedscatter hadn't seen a vigil since he was a 'paw, having been confined to the medicine den when he assumed Yellowfeather and Owltail had recieved theirs. He didn't realize how effected the clan would be; Cloudleap had been left in FieldClan as a kit by his mother, and didn't have any familial ties except to Goosewing, Maplekit, Silkkit, and Windkit.
He should have said something when he had first found out. Seedscatter had known, and yet he had kept his muzzle shut. How many others had acted similarly? Did Shrewtoe herself have a clue as to what was going on? Did Nutpaw? Goosewing? Grief weighed heavily on his shoulders, but it wasn't for Cloudleap's death. It was for his own mistakes and how they had impacted the clan; he couldn't bring himself to mourn deeply for the loss of his clanmate.
"StarClan has forsaken us!" came Goosewing's cry from the center of the circle. Seedscatter found her immediately, and a sharp wave of panic coursed through him. He hadn't even thought about how Goosewing would react.
Seedscatter parted his jaw, ready to speak up and intervene, when another voice piped up. "It was his time." Shrewtoe stood, a statue in the sea of quivering FieldClan cats. "You cannot blame the ancestors for what has befallen Cloudleap."
Venom laced Goosewing's expression, and the crowd parted to let the two she-cats speak face to face. Whether they feared Shrewtoe's composure or Goosewing's rage, Seedscatter couldn't tell.
"How dare you?" Goosewing hissed, her fur spiking to match the fury with which she lashed her tail. "You dare to place the blame on his shoulders? Where were you, when Cloudleap was alone and... and dying? You claim to be a medicine cat, and yet you, Shrewtoe, fail to live up to more than your name: shrew." There was silence following the queen's accusation. Shrewtoe's demeanor did not change.
Seedscatter desperately wanted to whisk his sister away before she could make this worse. He wanted to push her back and to reprimand Shrewtoe for her insensitivity. But he was frozen in time as he watched the hateful words fly off of his sister's tongue.
Shrewtoe let her gaze drip from Goosewing's head to her toes, and then back up to meet the queen's copper eyes. "You're in shock. See me in the medicine den when you've come to your senses. Nutpaw, Coldpatch, and Kestrelfeather will begin the burial process, and I will be in the barn, speaking like an adult." The medicine cat turned, letting her paws fall lazily as she headed to the barn. There, she would consult with Harestar about the matter that had come up. Usually, the mate of the deceased would also attend. Watching his sister, Seedscatter doubted that she would make an appearance.
Seedscatter finally stumbled over his paws in a swift trot just as Goosewing made to go after Shrewtoe. He stood in front of her, ears pressed back against his head and a biting comment posed to spring into the air. But the hurt in his sister's eyes stopped him in his tracks.
"Come here," he murmured, drawing his tail around Goosewing. With some reluctance, the tabby she-cat allowed her brother to draw her across the clearing. For the second time that day, Seedscatter experienced the uncomfortable sensation of dragging dead weight along behind him.
Seedscatter didn't sit. As much as he would have liked to, he wouldn't be able to allow himself such a luxury. Goosewing was a mother first, and even her own mental health would have to come second today. They had a few short minutes to talk.
Squaring his shoulders, Seedscatter meowed, "Are you alright?" As much as he would have liked to snap at her for causing such an outburst, she had just lost Cloudleap. Seedscatter was a lot of things, but he wasn't heartless.
"No, I'm not." Goosewing's answer was sharp. Her tone was emotionless, but her eyes were spilling her thoughts onto the earth for Seedscatter to interpret. There was only so much she could hide from her brother. But she turned away from Seedscatter, her tail lashing.
Goosewing's claws dug into the sand. "I have to go over there and tell my kits why their father is lying in the center of camp, dead."
Seedscatter hung his head, examining the bits of gravel at his feet while his sister spoke. He knew why Cloudleap was dead. The words could have come out so easy if only he could have opened his mouth. But what would he say, even if he could manage to find his voice? Hey, Goosewing! Guess its a shame that your mate died. I bet you wish there was a way we could have prevented it, right? Well, guess what!
Instead, he turned his eyes up to the sky, which was overcast with the promise of another shower. A trio of small, swift birds flew overhead, chirping urgently to one another before disappearing from sight.
Suddenly, despite the lack of an answer from Seedscatter, Goosewing started speaking again, and the brown tabby tom forced himself to look down.
"And that... that absolute... shrew! Why didn't she warn me? Warn us? For StarClan's sake, it's not as if she's a medicine cat for nothing. I would assume that she has a basic knowledge of herbs and other plants." Goosewing paused to scoff, kicking up dirt with a swipe of her foreleg.
Seedscatter watched his sister with pain in his eyes. She wasn't the best at grieving; he had had first hand experience watching her recede in on herself. But before, she had had Cloudleap to lean on along with Seedscatter's support. Now all she had was him, and he doubted that he would be of much use.
Without another comment, Goosewing stalked off. Seedscatter watched her go, following her shape until she reached her kits. She sniffed each one stiffly before meowing something that he couldn't catch from where he stood. Windkit let out a mournful wail that was cut short as Goosewing pulled the kit to her chest in a fierce hug.
Seedscatter let his gaze linger on the family, watching for Silkkit's and Maplekit's reactions. He didn't expect much of the calico she-cat, but he tensed for some violent response from her sister.
Nothing came. Seedscatter wasn't sure whether he was supposed to be surprised or not. He had believed in malice that had never existed because of his own nightmares. He had invented all that he knew about his sister's kit. She was five moons old, and already he was painting a murder story with her as the villain. The only death in her backstory was that of her father, and it was his fault alone. Had he not been so wrapped up in his own struggles, Cloudleap might have gotten the medical attention he needed.
Seedscatter lashed his tail against the ground, watching as the crowd around the white tom grew once again. He would be buried soon; where he would lie, Seedscatter didn't know. Goosewing would probably have to select a plot in the fields behind the barn if she didn't know of Cloudleap's ideal location.
With a final glance at his kin - Petalpatch now stood with the kits as Goosewing watched the elders lead Cloudleap away in silence - Seedscatter made his way out of camp.
As he walked, eyes seemed to cling to his fur like burrs, sending a prickling sensation up and down his spine. He didn't look back. What use was it to feed his superstition? At some point, his irrational fears would leave him alone
Seedscatter's pelt bristled until he was out of sight of camp.