WARNING: G0R3, D34TH

Birdchaser settled in his den, his eyes lifting to the sky. The stars glittered softly in the black, clouds drifting over the moons. He was recently made deputy, after Willowtail's death. The whole clan had been in a state of shock. Willowtail was found dead in the forest, blood splattered on her dark gray pelt. Nobody knew how it happened, but it left everyone terrified. Birdchaser shivered. The former deputy had once used this exact den, exact bed, and walked on the same ground. He lowered his head, resting his chin on his paws. I should have said no, the young tomcat thought with a frown. Who knows what happened to Willowtail... what if it happens to me, too? He shook his head. No, it won't. And if it does, I'll fight it off. I'm stronger than that. I'm ConiferClan's deputy. But it didn't stop Birdchaser from feeling uneasy. And I'm going to be a dad. Sycamoreleap is going to have her kits soon, so I have to live to meet and protect them. There was a rustle from outside.
He leapt to his paws, claws unsheathed. "Who's there?" He hissed, pale silver fur fluffed up in fear. There was nothing. Silence settled in the air as comfortably as it had left, but Birdchaser knew something was wrong. I can fight this. I have to. For Sycamoreleap. For the kits. Then there was a flash of darkness, and an impact slamming into his body. He felt claws piercing his shoulders, and he writhed fiercely to get the cat off of him. He shook them off, scrambling to his paws. "Who are you?" He snarled, his tail lashing. The figure didn't answer, just lunged forward, claws snagging his throat. They struggled in the den for a dragging moment, until the cat finally pinned Birdchaser to the ground. He tried to cry out for help, but the figure drew back, slitting his throat effortlessly. The cruel cat stared for a moment at the body, before snagging his scruff and dragging him from the den, out of camp, and into the forest.