#even flowers in tigerstar's mouth

[thunderc1an]

Warriors: The Prophecies Begin- Details + Info in Tags

[eire-cant-write]

Blooming Out of Death

Chapter 10

Word count: 816

Something was different that night. The field was slightly less saturated, the flowers had less color. Clouds, puffy and white, drifted across the sky, whereas before, the blue expanse had been empty. Squirrelflight narrowed her eyes. This proved it; she was not simply having strange dreams. 

“Why do you keep bringing me here,” the ginger she-cat demanded, not bothering to look in Mapleshade’s direction. 

The huge tortoiseshell warrior padded forward, brushing against the smaller cat. “What happened to ‘hello’? Not even a ‘hi’? How rude,” she responded smoothly. “I thought dear old Firestar and Sandstorm raised you better.” Mapleshade turned around to face Squirrelflight. 

“Oh,” she purred with a devious smile. “I’m not the one bringing you here. No one is bringing you here.” The tortoiseshell’s words hung in the air for a moment, confused silence suspended between them. 

“That’s ridiculous, someone had to have brought me here,” Squirrelflight denied, finally. “You’re making no sense.” She shook her head, refusing to believe what Mapleshade was telling her. But she remembered- before the Great Battle, Ivypool had managed to dream her way into the Dark Forest when she wanted to. The clarity the memory had brought showed on Squirrelflight’s face, causing Mapleshade’s grin to grow wider. “You came here because you wanted to. No, you needed to. You need my help, and deep down, you know it.” 

Her grin dropped, and the mischief disappeared from her demeanor. “So,” Mapleshade hissed in a low voice, “you really should consider my plan. All your troubles would be over in a heartbeat.” She paused, leaning closer. “It wouldn’t be that hard, really. After all, if you hurt him badly enough; well, there goes all nine lives.” 

Squirrelflight gave the murderous she cat a look of horror. “No!” She scrambled back away from Mapleshade, fear in her eyes. “You’re asking me to kill my leader! My-” She cut herself off. He wasn’t her mate anymore, he’d made it perfectly clear. 

“Yes, yes, I know,” the low growl interrupted her thoughts. “He’s your leader, you love him, or whatever excuse you plan to give me. But think about it. What has he done for you? He’s mistreated you, taken his anger out on you, hated you for helping you sister. All while he was training with Tigerstar and Hawkfrost behind your back, or thinking himself too important to be tarnished by your lie and three half-clan kits. He didn’t care about you! He didn’t love you! He loved your attention. He loved feeling like he owned you.” She paused, drawing herself up to her full height and glaring down at the other she-cat. “In fact, if the roles were reversed… I doubt he’d turn away an opportunity like this.”

A chill went through Squirrelflight. Surely I can’t believe her, she thought. She’d say anything to get me to agree. Bramblestar isn’t evil…. 

She opened her mouth to give a retort- perhaps defend Bramblestar- to say anything at all. But no words came out. A thin, choked wail escaped her, half caught in her throat. She crouched low to the ground, letting all the misery and anguish she had pushed to the back of her mind for moons on end consume her. Is this Starclan’s punishment for my lies, she wondered, unable to think of any other reason this would be happening to her.

For a moment, Mapleshade’s expression softened, flickering from cruelty to concern. Then the glare returned. “You’re pathetic, letting him ruin your life like this.” The huge tortoiseshell stood, circling Squirrelflight, scrutinizing her. “I am offering you a solution, and you can’t even take it. He’s turned you into a coward.” She raised a paw, unsheathing her claws. Bringing the paw down, she scored her claws on the muzzle of the smaller she-cat. “You can’t fight back. Not against me, and certainly not against him. Not without my help.”

Squirrelflight felt a surge of fear alongside the newfound pain searing into her face. Looking up at Mapleshade, she saw anger blazing in her yellow eyes. Fear caused her chest to tighten. She braced herself for whatever the villainess might do next, shutting her eyes tight.

No blows nor words came. Slowly, the deputy opened one eye. She was back in the warrior’s den, the watery grey light of dawn barely breaking through the dense foliage that created the shelter. 

The nest of moss she had slept on had been torn to shreds. She could only guess fitful thrashing was the cause. In the dim light, she could just barely make out a few scattered drops of blood. Pain still scorched her muzzle, even more so as she licked a paw and dragged it over her face to clean it, smearing her own blood on the white patch of fur that covered her paw. 

She sighed, not bothering to continue cleaning herself. She knew no one would ask about it anyways.