Edited ✔️
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"I don't get it." Streamflower meowed, her honey yellow gaze glittering with concern as Snowdrift explained his dream to her. The two lay in their separate nests, Streamflower's tail swishing back and forth. "Are you sure you don't need to speak to Leopardstalk or Twigpool?"

Snowdrift shook his head as frustration flashed beneath his pelt, and he gently nuzzled the she-cat's cheek. "I'm sure I shouldn't speak to them." He reassured. "I think this dream was meant for only the two of us to figure out, and nobody else." Streamflower looked at him doubtfully, but let out a reluctant sigh nonetheless.

"Alright. I'm going to go hunting. The freshkill pile is in need to be stocked." Snowdrift nodded in agreement, rising to his feet and trailing after her. Now that Firesplash and Willowbush, whom were two of the best hunters in the clan, had gotten greencough, the clan needed to send out more frequent patrols. Prey was running low and ThunderClan needed to be well fed in order to maintain good health.

The two warriors set off across the clearing, leaving the camp and heading in the direction of the WindClan border. The previous snowfall had eased to a stop, and a chilly wind whisked through the air. Snowdrift managed to catch a thrush with the help of Streamflower, before catching an odd scent drifting along the breeze.

Lifting his head, Snowdrift pinpointed the direction the smell was coming from, his ears pricked up with alarm. "Do you smell that?" He asked anxiously, his pelt prickling. Streamflower parted her jaws as she tasted the air, lifting a paw from the ground.

"Yes, I do." She meowed firmly, her eyes narrowing. She slipped forward, padding through the undergrowth as she tracked the smell. Snowdrift followed along, sniffing the trail before finally spotting a lump of gold and white fur through the low hanging branches of an oak tree.

Streamflower let out a mortified gasp, and Snowdrift darted forward, his gaze fixating on the figure on the ground.

"Littleshine!" The white tom exclaimed, dashing forward and standing before the corpse. With a strangled cry of grief, his knees buckled and he buried his nose into her cold fur.

Streamflower stood, frozen with dread as she stared at the dead deputy. She leaned forward, gently touching the tip of Snowdrift's ear. "Snowdrift," she breathed, her voice raspy with sorrow. "We have to take her back to camp."

Snowdrift met her gaze, holding it for a few moments. With a grim nod, he grasped Littleshine's limp scruff between his jaws, while Streamflower took a hold of her haunches. Together, the two hauled her back to camp, her dull amber eyes staring up at the sky and her dangling ears snagging briefly on the brambles of the camp entrance as they stumbled into the clearing. Snowdrift was nearly blinded by grief as he dropped her to the ground, nearly collapsing with her as a wave of sadness overtook him.

An eerie silence had fallen over the camp the moment they had stepped into it. Leopardstalk's head poked out of his den, and his gaze darkened as he noticed what lay at the two's paws. Darting forward, the black tom began to sniff along her fur. His green eyes sharpened, and he looked up at the two.

"Where did you find her?"

Snowdrift swallowed, his voice trembling as he answered the medicine cat. "B-By the WindClan border." He rasped, staring at the ground. Leopardstalk nodded, backing away and vanishing back into his den.

He came back out a few moments later, carrying a bundle of herbs firmly between his teeth. Dragging the corpse to the center of the clearing, he groomed the she-cat's fur, shifting her body to make it look as if she were only sleeping. Placing her gently down, Snowdrift finally processed the presence of another cat laying beside Littleshine. The tom's pale yellow and black fur was ruffling slightly in the breeze. Shimmerbranch sat beside him, paying no mind to the fact that the deputy was dead as well.

Her shoulders shook as sobs escaped her curled lips, her head pressed into Paleclaw's fur. He must've died of greencough. Snowdrift realized, bowing his head. Shimmerbranch's kits would never meet their father once they were born. Padding silently to the center of the clearing, Snowdrift sat down beside the two corpses, his head lowered in silence as he grieved with his gathering clan. Leopardstalk and Twigpool were conversing in hushed tones at the edge of the clearing.

Snowdrift, although seemingly staring at the corpse of Littleshine as his clanmates shuffled around to pay their respects to Paleclaw and Littleshine, his eyes were flicking back and forth along the ground. Suddenly, a gray paw was placed next to him, and he nearly jumped out of his fur before realizing that it was Mosspounce. Snowdrift let his fur lie flat and clenched his jaw. Mosspounce's narrowed eyes flicked over to the white tom, before staring back down at Littleshine, briefly touching his nose to her pale fur. Night was quickly approaching, the sun low and casting brilliant lights into the camp.

Snowdrift calmed himself down with a small, although quick breath, shifting a bit uncomfortably. He returned his thoughts to a concerning matter at paw that was not to do with the deaths of his clanmates, and he took a deep breath. He could decipher what the prophecy, as he assumed it was, meant by far. It meant he needed to 'follow the brightest star', which quite obviously had to be the brightest star in the sky. And clearly, the scarlet pebble was Pebblestar. He shuddered involuntarily, and a few concerned glances were cast in his direction. Snowdrift forced a small, however sad smile at the worried cats, and they resumed the vigil as they silently grieved over their clanmates. But what's the greater destiny? He thought to himself, his white tail brushing lightly against the snowy ground. Mosspounce shifted beside him, and Snowdrift's gaze darted over to the tom as his thoughts were pulled to a quick stop.

Did Mosspounce have anything to do with it? What if he killed Littleshine?

Before Snowdrift was able to think about it any further, a demanding yowl echoed throughout the clearing. "You all know the routine, gather around the highrock!" Pebblestar snapped, his yellow eyes narrowed sharply. Tortoisefoot was the first to separate himself from the two bodies, silently approaching the high ledge where the leader stood. The clan soon followed, grief hanging over them like a cloud.

Pebblestar raked his gaze along the crowd, his gray spotted tail swatting back and forth. "As you all know, two deaths have occurred today in ThunderClan. Paleclaw and Littleshine have passed on to StarClan. And now, since our previous deputy is dead, I am required to appoint our clan a new one." Pebblestar cleared his throat. "Mosspounce, if you would please step forward." Mosspounce had a surprised look pass over his expression as he quickly stepped forward, gathering his surprise and giving himself a calm composure.

He blinked up at his leader, eyes calm and with a hint of eagerness. "Yes, Pebblestar?" He meowed.

"I say these words before the spirit of Littleshine, so that she will hear and approve of my choice in our replacement deputy. Mosspounce, do you promise to remain loyal to your clan and obey your leader, even at the cost of your life?"

Mosspounce's lips curled to show his teeth as a grin spread across his face. "I do." He meowed, his ears extended forward.

Pebblestar dipped his head. "Then by the powers of StarClan, Mosspounce is now the new deputy."

The clearing was silent for a moment as cats questioned why a warrior without an apprentice was appointed deputy, their hushed murmurs echoing Snowdrift's thoughts. Suddenly, a voice broke through the crowd, pride warming their voice. "Mosspounce!" Streamflower yowled, beginning the chant as warriors gradually joined in. Mosspounce puffed out his chest as he was flooded with warm congratulations, smiling. Snowdrift approached as he slid into pace beside Streamflower, his fur brushing against hers as they neared the new deputy.

"Congratulations!" Streamflower purred, butting her head against Mosspounce's. "I'm so proud of you."

Mosspounce purred. "Quit acting like our mother." He teased kindly, gently swatting his paw over her ears.

Streamflower laughed. "I'd rather not!" She bit back, smiling. "I can't believe you're deputy!"

"Neither can I." Mosspounce confessed, smirking at Snowdrift as a frown entered the white tom's face.

"Since this is such a happy occasion..." Streamflower began, acting as if she had forgotten the two other warrior's deaths. "I'd like to tell you that me and Snowdrift have become mates!"

Mosspounce froze for a moment, his green eyes sharpening. "Oh." He meowed stiffly, his eyes flickering over to Snowdrift. "Well... congratulations." His voice was cold.

Snowdrift nodded. "Thank you." Was all that he said, forcing his fur to lie flat.

Mosspounce scowled for barely even a moment before returning to his gleeful expression. Streamflower didn't seem to notice this, but Snowdrift sure did. "You two should head back to your nests. It's getting pretty late." The gray and white tom angled his ears towards the sky, which had darkened aside from the few clouds dotting it with a pink glow.

"Great idea." Streamflower purred to her littermate. "Let's go, Snowdrift." She ushered Snowdrift along, who stumbled over his paws.

"But wait! What about..." Littleshine and Paleclaw? He trailed off, not finishing his sentence as he craned his neck to look as Mosspounce. The tom glared at him, a vicious look to his eyes, before spinning around and scrambling up to the high ledge where Pebblestar awaited. Snowdrift shuddered, and raced to catch up with Streamflower who had already ducked inside the warriors den.