Hawkstar's lifeless body was found just before the patrol returned to the tunnels, stuck floating between two rocks further down the gorge.

Vixenpaw had ran out of tears to cry – too shocked to react – simply looking down upon her parents' corpses. Ivyweb had brought Blackbreeze and Ravensoar down to help carry the bodies back to camp, Seapaw following along quietly. The heiress tailed at the back of the solemn procession as they trudged back to camp in a stunned silence – struggling to process the loss of both their rulers in one swoop.

Immediately upon returning, they were swarmed by their clanmates – everyone begging for information, before trailing away at the sight of the bodies. Soon, the entire clan was clamouring for information, and Vixenpaw overheard Eaglesong, Mothmoon, Blackbreeze and Ravensoar breaking the news – and Seapaw hurried over to the other apprentices to tell them.

Stonepaw and Tulippaw let out anguished cries as Seapaw told them what happened, and raced over to Hawkstar and Dreamstar – weeping as their bodies were laid in the middle of camp. Oddpaw came over quietly, watching in a mix of horror and regret as Inkpatch attempted to comfort him, hugging him close with a disturbed expression on her face.

Many clanmates went forward to help wash the King and Queen's fur, a tradition among the clans when they must bid goodbye to the dead. Only Gooseholly and Chalkface refused to do so, the brothers of the King unwilling to let him go.

But soon, in some unspoken agreement, the clan backed away and fell silent in grief. Oatfreckle laced the bodies' fur with lavender and honeysuckle, and soon cats turned their attention to the next highest rank – the advisor.

Gooseholly cleared his throat looking haunted. "Clanmates, I am sure you are all wondering what caused such a terrible tragedy..." Vixenpaw forced herself to zone out, in order to not hear the awful situation repeated. She saw looks of despair and raw emotion reveal on each cat's face, and felt nothing but a painful numbness.

"Wouldn't they would have more lives left?" Boldheart called out as Gooseholly finished, indignant and hopeful. "As leaders, they had nine lives split between them – they hadn't both gotten down to their last, surely?"

Oatfreckle stepped forward. "As the medicine cat, I knew how many lives they had throughout their leadership." Vixenpaw cringed at the use of past tense. "Dreamstar lost his first life to a battle against a badger, then one to rats, another to sickness and his fourth to a badly infected wound – now this. Hawkstar lost her first two to sickness, her third to battle wounds, her fourth when rescuing a RiverClan kit from drowning, and then this." He looked depressed, his head hanging low. "They were both too insistent to use up their lives for others, rather than preserve them."

Gooseholly nodded gratefully to the medicine cat, and continued his speech. "I know all of us are reeling from what's happened today, but we must focus on the present rather than the future. We must sit vigil for our beloved leaders, and bury their bodies tomorrow morning. Let us grieve for now."

Vixenpaw finally moved from her spot, shakily walking towards her parents and siblings. Stonepaw moved to allow her space to huddle against Hawkstar's body, and she snuggled into her cooling fur, licking the moisture from it. Oddpaw joined her moments later, huddling beside her, Inkpatch on his other side.

Gooseholly sat beside his brother's body, Chalkface watching not too far away, as closer friends began to join them. Seapaw and Oceanpaw sat a respectful distance away, being Dreamstar's niece and nephew, and the rest of the clan sat in a gloomy circle around them.

Vixenpaw finally finished washing Hawkstar, and gazed up at the sky – surprised to see the stars twinkling above beautifully, not a cloud in the sky to block them.

"They'll be up there, soon." Oddpaw murmured to her softly. "And the sky being completely clear? It's so StarClan can grieve with us, for the loss of such wonderful..." he broke off, closing his eyes – pained.

Vixenpaw nodded in understanding, leaning against the younger tom for comfort – glad for his company. She gazed back down at Hawkstar and Dreamstar, wondering how the two of them could look so small in death when they'd been so magnificent in life – proud and strong, immovable forces that led the clan with such vigour and joy.

And they'd been expecting kits, too, kits Vixenpaw had been elated to meet, more little siblings to love and adore...

But they would surely be dead now, too. All gone – all six of them.

Bye bye kitties. Bye bye Mammy and Baba.

---

Vixenpaw opened her eyes blearily, having barely managed to stay awake the entire night to honour her parents. A few other cats seemed to have managed to fall asleep, others looking as tired as she felt.

Oatfreckle, Moorwing and Daisydusk – an elder couple – stepped forward reluctantly, and Vixenpaw felt her heart seized by panic.

"No!" She cried desperately, awakening her siblings. "Not yet – please!"

Moorwing looked tortured, and Daisydusk looked away. "I'm so sorry, babes. We have to."

Tears filled her eyes once more as she clung to the now cold pelts. "I won't let you!"

Inkpatch, trembling, carefully prised her off. "Please, Vixenpaw. We have to let them go in peace."

"All of you, come with us." Daisydusk insisted. "You can choose the perfect spot to bury them."

Vixenpaw caved, and nodded. Tail limp as a dead snake, she followed the elders and medicine cat as they begun to carry the bodies out of camp. A few cats followed at a respectful distance to watch the burial, perhaps to see where it would happen so they could visit it again. Vixenpaw wanted them to go away.

Tulippaw sniffed as they walked, leaning against Stonepaw, and Oddpaw stopped. "Can.. can we bury them beneath Outlook Rock? We.. that's where we'd go to talk sometimes, as a family."

Vixenpaw smiled weakly at him. "That's a good idea, Oddpaw. I think they'd like that."

So that's where they headed – the highest point in their territory. Vixenpaw's heart nearly stopped when she saw their pine cones from a few days ago were still nestled beneath it, remembering how Dreamstar had insisted on it.

"A little collection of your treasures!" He'd said. "We can collect more, and use them for games or anything else you want."

Stonepaw carefully moved them from their spot, as Gooseholly – who'd come along with them – Oatfreckle and the elders begun to dig the joint grave.

Wordlessly, Vixenpaw joined them – scooping pawful after pawful of dirt from the ground, piling it neatly away from the grave to help refill it. They worked like this for a while, the other apprentices and Inkpatch helping now and them – all of them ending up with a decent amount of dirt in their fur and claws. Eventually, a large enough hole had been dug, and it seemed no-one wanted to be the first to suggest lowering them in.

They sat, just staring at the hole for a while, before Stonepaw shot off suddenly for Fourtrees. Tulippaw raced after him, and Vixenpaw felt tempted to do the same – just run away from everything and pretend her parents had never died.

But not too much longer after he'd left, Stonepaw came running back with Tulippaw. In their jaws, they held small bundles of flowers of many different colours – red, yellow, pink, purple, blue and orange.

This was almost a signal to start the burying, as Gooseholly and Oatfreckle lifted Dreamstar and the two elders lifted Hawkstar – with some struggle, the two rulers were lowered into the grave and positioned side by side, as if they were merely cuddling while asleep. Vixenpaw and Oddpaw helped Stonepaw and Tulippaw place the collected flowers on top of them, and Oddpaw added the pine cones – Vixenpaw's, Stonepaw's and Tulippaw's.

She also noticed he'd brought along the one he'd found and taken back to camp, smaller than the rest. That one was added too.

"So that they have each of us with them." He whispered, almost inaudibly.

Then the group began piling the dirt back into the grave, and Vixenpaw's heart ached as each pile of earth concealed her parents even further. Soon, it wash completely covered, and they begun flattening the dirt – and Stonepaw lay one final flower, a bluebell, on the grave.

Gooseholly stepped back, looking at something behind them. "It's done. Would anyone like to say some final words?"

Vixenpaw turned round, and realised that over the duration of the burial, the entire clan had gathered round for one final goodbye.

"They were so honest and brave." Oatfreckle offered quietly. "They made WindClan a proper family, and for that we shall always be grateful."

Gooseholly bowed his head, and Tulippaw stepped closer to the grave. Vixenpaw couldn't see what she was doing, but when the long-furred apprentice stepped back, she saw a heart had been engraved in the dirt.

"It's time to go home, now." Gooseholly murmured to her, and she nodded sadly.

With a final glance behind her, Vixenpaw followed the rest of the clan back towards camp with a heavy heart.

"I'm sorry for you loss, Vixenpaw." A voice murmured from behind her. Vixenpaw spun round, spotting Twitchpaw shuffling his paws awkwardly, gazing down at the ground. "I know it might not help much right now, but I know what it feels like to lose both your parents at once." His lower lip quivered.

The ginger apprentice couldn't manage a smile, but nodded. "Thank you, Twitchpaw. I appreciate it."

Side by side, they hurried to catch up to their clanmates, who were now back in camp. Everyone looked like lost kits, unsure of how to move on now.

Vixenpaw could certainly relate.

A few cats were whispering urgently together, mainly the older warriors, who kept sending her funny looks. Vixenpaw felt taken aback – shouldn't they be a little more respectful instead of gossiping?

"Vixenpaw!" Gooseholly called to her hoarsely. "I need to speak with you in.. your parents' den."

With a gulp, she nodded and followed him into the gorse bush at the far end of the clearing where their den was. They settled opposite each other, and Vixenpaw gazed at her mentor numbly.

"Look.." he began awkwardly. "I am so sorry for your losses – believe me, I understand how you're feeling right now. And I really didn't expect to be having this talk with you so soon..."

"What talk?" She asked, vaguely curious.

He stared at her intently, and sighed. "Do you remember what happens in WindClan when one or both monarchs pass away?"

A stone dropped in her belly. Oh no.

He saw the realisation on her face. "I cannot express how sorry I am to say this, Vixenpaw, but you must step up and become Queen of WindClan."