Dovewing’s Silence

Squirrelflight climbed the rocks to Highledge as if every bone in her body was in pain, and looked down at her Clanmates. “Before we do anything else, we must see to our wounds. Check yourself carefully and go to the medicine den if you are hurt.” Her voice was dull as if the battle had bled out her ability to feel anything. “The time is past for heroes,” she meowed. “The Clan needs you to be strong now. So if you have any injuries at all, get them treated.” She narrowed her eyes at Dustpelt, who had wrenched his gaze away from Ferncloud. “That means you too,” Squirrelflight finished.

Dovewing glanced at her flanks and looked briefly at each paw but she couldn’t see any wounds that needed urgent attention. She started to lick Mousefur’s ears to clean them, but Purdy placed his tail-tip on her shoulder. “I can take care of her now,” he mewed gruffly.

Dovewing nodded and took a step back to let the old cat shuffle closer to Mousefur’s head. She closed her eyes in pain as Purdy’s tongue rasped over his denmate’s pelt. What will he do without you, Mousefur?

Beside her, a silver-and-white she-cat was picking leaf scraps from Hollyleaf’s fur. Dovewing pressed her flank against her sister. “Are you okay, Ivypool?”

The silver-and-white cat nodded without looking up. “I’m alive, aren’t I? Thanks to Hollyleaf.” Ivypool traced her muzzle over Hollyleaf’s back. “If it hadn’t been for her, Hawkfrost would have killed me. Hollyleaf gave her life for mine!”

Dovewing winced at the tremor in Ivypool’s voice. “Remember that Hollyleaf is watching you now,” she murmured. “She will never regret what she did.”

From the other side of Hollyleaf’s body, Daisy nodded. She was untangling the long black fur with her claws, teasing out the knots as gently as if Hollyleaf could feel every tug. “Hollyleaf died as a true warrior,” she agreed.

Dovewing looked around at the sound of paw steps. Brackenfur was pacing across the clearing, his tail flicking. “Has anyone seen Sorreltail?” he called.

Brightheart emerged from the remains of the elders’ den, the white patches on her fur glowing in the half-light. Muffled sounds of her three kits came from deep within the crushed branches.

“Is it safe to come out now?”

“Have those dead cats gone? They were bad!”

“Ow! Dewkit’s treading on me!”

Brightheart glanced over her shoulder. The skin on her ravaged face was taut and red from strain. “Wait there!” she meowed. “You can come out soon, I promise.” She turned back to Brackenfur. “I saw Sorreltail go into the nursery. You should try there first.”

“Thanks.” Brackenfur trotted toward the clump of brambles, miraculously intact thanks to Ferncloud’s courage.

Dovewing shook her head, trying to clear the buzzing from her ears. Something’s wrong, she thought. The hair along her spine rose. I should be able to hear Sorreltail—but I can’t.

“Are you feeling all right?” Ivypool asked.

Dovewing didn’t take her eyes from the nursery as she watched Brackenfur slip inside. “I’m fine,” she murmured.

“No.”

Brackenfur’s single word dropped like a stone into the hush of the clearing. Dovewing was at the entrance to the nursery before she realized her paws were moving. Brackenfur was standing at the edge of Sorreltail’s nest, looking down at his mate’s unmoving body. The air was thick with the stench of blood, and Dovewing felt it sticky and liquid beneath her pads.

A tiny dark tabby head with white patches popped up from behind Sorreltail, her blue eyes huge and worried. “We can’t wake her!” Lilykit squeaked. “We tried and tried but she’s still asleep!”

Her sister Seedkit appeared. Her pale ginger fur was fluffed in all directions, making her look like a hedgehog. “Is she really tired from the fighting, do you think?”

“Tired…” Brackenfur whispered without lifting his gaze from Sorreltail’s sweet face. The she-cat’s eyes were lightly closed as if she had just dozed off.

“Lilykit, Seedkit, come with me,” Dovewing urged, her voice coming out as a croak.

The kits scrambled over Sorreltail’s body. “Sorry, Mama,” Lilykit mewed when her paw slipped into Sorreltail’s ear.

Dovewing tried not to flinch when she saw that the kits’ belly fur was soaked with blood. She glanced sideways at Brackenfur, but he hadn’t noticed. His legs had crumpled beneath him and he was curled around Sorreltail’s head, pressing his muzzle against her.

“Wake up, my love,” he murmured. “Our kits need you. We can’t lose you now.”

Dovewing nudged the kits toward the entrance. “I think Papa is sad,” Seedkit chirped. “Shall I stay and make him feel better?”