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" I'm Hearing Sirens"
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The light slowly faded away.
She'd hated that burning white that had blinded her.

She welcomed the healing darkness as it came, riding her grief like a wave.

"Dawnclaw. It's good to see you're back with us." Snakestar whispered.

She gave him a blank stare.
"I'm okay now."

"I know. I can tell."

Dawnclaw had been watching the clouds for a quarter of a moon. Watching the night lapse into day, the warmth and naturalness of the darkness ebbing like the tide.

Finally she had tied herself back to the sky.

"I still can't believe she.. I can't believe she left."

He rested his tail on her back. She knew it was supposed to be reassuring, but all she felt was weight.

She sighed.
"It doesn't feel right, without her. From what Aquiver said, it was dangerous for Maplepaw to go!"

"She knew. Whatever it was. She knew. She's a smart cat, one of logic. She doesn't follow her emotions. She's like me. While some of her decision was based on her emotion, she would've put a lot of thought in it. She would've chosen something she knew was the cleverest, most logical idea. There was a lot she hid from us."

Snakestar wasn't looking at her.

Dawnclaw didn't care.

It was all the reassurance she needed.

It was only now that Dawnclaw realized that she had no idea what Aquiver's society was really like. Aquiver had only given a very filtured version, everyone knew that. It had never occured to Dawnclaw to get to know Aquiver and what her life was really like. For Dawnclaw, Aquiver's sole purpose was to help her son.

But that led to more questions. What was so dangerous that Aquiver didn't want Maplepaw to follow? When did they become so close? How did Maplepaw manage to get the closed off cat to open up? And how in the name of StarClan did they get so close to the point of Aquiver using an affectionate nickname, "Little Maple Tree?" Dawnclaw didn't think she'd ever seen an affectionate side to Aquiver.

And why had Maplepaw been so desperate to join her?

And what impact would that do to Sablepaw?

Well, it was a negative impact, of course. Sablepaw wasn't speaking to Dawnclaw, he had withdrawn once more. Swiftear had said that setbacks were expected to happen.. but Dawnclaw had never expected to feel as heartbroken as this.

She didn't know what to do.

Had she failed as a mother? To both Sablepaw and Maplepaw? Of course she had failed Sablepaw. She has literally neglected him. What about her other kits? Did they wish for a better mother too?

Perhaps they longed for Minkfoot, she had shared the Nursery with them. But then again, Minkfoot wasn't the most appealing mother. She wasn't very fond of kits, but yet she was expecting her second littter. At least Dawnclaw wasn't Tawnymask's and Poplarpelt's only disappointment. 

Did they yearn for Brindlebee? StarClan forbid it. 

Cherrystream? No. Even the kits weren't that naïve. 

Dawnclaw was walking back to camp, her paws dragging, her stomach heavy.

Her stomach felt more than heavy. It felt like it was oozing out of her body, running down her legs in the sick form of bile. It felt as if she was weighed down by rocks, sinking beneath a body of water so large, she felt compressed at the mere sight. She felt like everything had lost it's clarity. It was a fog and she was dissapating into it. 

Brindlebee.

Why was Dawnclaw thinking about that foul molly?

Because Brindlee was a different cat. 

She was a kind, energetic cat when she was growing up, though she had mellowed out.
But now she was hollow, and angry, and brittle-boned.

Dawnclaw hoped she would never have to feel what she was going through.

But the feeling that she currently felt wasn't all that great.

The suffocating numbness was constricting her. She had no lungs but yet they burned. She was fire and she was ice. She burned of heat; she burned of cold. She floated, she was featherlight. But she was chained to her emotions, and she bled out into the sound. The salt and the silhouettes danced in her lonesomeness; she was lethargy and lackluster skylines. She was a haze, but if you lit a match, she would ignite.

Dawnclaw knew.

She knew when the silence ceased, and when the birds stopping singing.

She knew when the scream shattered and scattered, she knew when blood meets bone, and paranoia melts the two.

She knew.

And on fatalistic feet, she ran.

Snakestar followed.

She saw the tortoiseshell first. Her black and ginger fur were tinted silver in the moonlight, her eyes frenzied.

And Dawnclaw looked.

A black furred body, and a head, separated from each other. Blood was everywhere. It was painted into the trees, which had this symbol carved into them, everywhere. The trees were absolutely covered in the symbols, it felt deadly.

Blood was wet underpaw, red and viscous. It mixed against the snow creating a strange, disgusting texture.

The deceased himself looked very apathic, perhaps even peaceful. His eyes were closed, and terror mingled with serenity painted his body.

Lavender and numerous other flowers were scattered all over his body, some stained with blood, others pure and untouched.

Sick.

Sick.

Sick.

What kind of murderer would cover their victim in flowers, as if to honour them?

It was sickening.

And then the world split in to. It crashed and splintered, the truth so jarring and so real that Dawnclaw combusted.

Sablepaw had been slaughtered.

The black cat was Sablepaw.

Dawnclaw couldn't make a sound, but the heavens opened.

Rain poured down, washing away the world and stripping it to it's bones.

Maybe a cleanse was the only thing it needed.

But until that, Dawnclaw would surrender herself to the headaches, and let the nothingness drift.

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A/N:

I'm sorry.