Crimsonear padded along the trees with his sister Floraclaw. This was the first time he had talked with his sister since she became a warrior. As they were the same age, Crimson did feel some jealousy towards his sister. The only reason she had become a warrior is as she had k!lled someone. However, he put that in the past, as he just wanted to catch up with his sister. "So, how is it being a warrior? Must be pretty great." he mewed. Floraclaw had smiled — not the cold, distant smile she wore around the rest of the Clan, but something genuine. “It is,” she said simply. She didn’t feel guilt. Not anymore. The kit’s death had been necessary. Hollowstar had chosen her, and she had delivered. That moment had carved her path, and she walked it proudly. The whispers of the Dark Forest were no longer frightening — they were familiar, comforting. She belonged to something greater now. "Well, I'm looking forward to proving myself to Marlinstar, one way or the other." He replied. His paws trembled. He quickly looked around and realised that it was just a small tremor in the earth. Nothing noticeable. The sky was blue above, the birds were chirping. Newleaf was a great time of year, and one that made prey run very well. "Hey, do you wanna do a bit of hunting?" he asked, as there were lots of scents in the air. Floraclaw’s ears twitched at her brother’s suggestion, and she turned to glance at him with a flicker of amusement in her amber eyes. The tremor hadn’t escaped her notice, but she dismissed it as easily as she dismissed most things that didn’t concern her directly. “Sure,” she mewed, her tone light. “Let’s see if you can catch something before I do.” He wanted to impress Marlinstar, to prove he was ready. Floraclaw lowered herself into a crouch, her gaze sweeping the clearing ahead. Crimson closed his eyes and opened his mouth, revealing his scent glands to the air. He was always better at finding scents then signs of living prey. Suddenly, a scent of squirrel flooded his nose. It was coming from behind him. He turned around and saw Flora stalking that same squirrel, so decided to go after a different piece of prey. Once again he opened his mouth, and as quick as a seagull flying across the shore, he smelt something. "Vole." he muttered to himself. Floraclaw didn’t notice her brother’s quiet mutter, too focused on the squirrel ahead. Her body was low to the ground, muscles taut beneath her sleek fur, eyes locked on the flick of a bushy tail. The squirrel was distracted, nibbling at a seed beneath a bramble. Perfect. She crept forward, each pawstep deliberate, silent. The forest around her was alive with Newleaf energy — birdsong, rustling leaves, the scent of blooming herbs — but Floraclaw’s world narrowed to the prey in front of her. She could feel the Dark Forest watching, approving. She was their warrior now, and she hunted not just for food, but for pride. Behind her, Crimsonear veered off, his own hunt beginning. She trusted him to succeed. He was close to proving himself, and she knew he’d do whatever it took. But this squirrel was hers. With a final burst of speed, she lunged. The squirrel barely had time to leap before her claws sank into its flank. It squealed once — a sharp, brief sound — before she silenced it with a swift bite. She stood over the limp body, chest rising and falling, satisfaction warming her like sunlight. Crimson stalked the vole,and once he was close enough, he leaped, claws outstretched. Once the vole was stuch underneath his claws, he quickly nipped it on the throught sealing the voles prey. Suddenly, there was yet another tremor in the ground, stronger this time. Then he heard a crack. He looked up and saw a huge branch tear off from the trunk of a tree. "FLORA--" The crack of the branch was deafening. Floraclaw’s heart seized as she saw the massive limb tear free from the tree’s trunk, twisting through the air like a serpent. Time slowed. She saw Crimsonear’s eyes widen, his body frozen in the moment between realization and reaction. But it was too late. The branch landed on him with a thump as it smashed into Crim's body. A crunch filled the air, a crunch of bones. Blood few everywhere. Floraclaw stood frozen, staring at the broken branch that had crushed her brother. The forest around her was eerily still, as if holding its breath. The tremor had passed, but its aftermath lay in front of her — Crimsonear’s body, twisted beneath the weight of splintered wood, blood soaking into the moss. She dropped to her knees beside him, her breath ragged. “Crimson,” she whispered, nudging his cheek with her nose. His eyes were half-lidded, his chest barely rising. She could still feel the faint warmth of life clinging to him, but it was fading fast. “No, no, no,” she murmured, pressing her forehead to his. “You’re not done. You’re not—” But he didn’t respond. The silence stretched. The birds had stopped singing. Even the wind seemed to hush its voice. (cont in Notes + Creds)
Floraclaw sat there for a long time, her body curled protectively around her brother’s. She didn’t cry — not at first. She just stared at him, her mind refusing to accept what her eyes saw. “I should’ve pulled you away. I should’ve—” She didn’t know how long she stayed there. The sun shifted overhead, casting long shadows through the trees. The squirrel she’d caught earlier lay forgotten, its body cold. The forest began to stir again, but Floraclaw remained still, her grief anchoring her to the spot. Eventually, she rose. Her legs felt heavy, her heart hollow. he looked down at Crimsonear one last time, then turned and ran — not with the grace of a hunter, but with the desperation of someone who had lost something irreplaceable. Her brother, her friend. The one who had always been just a step behind her, chasing her path, trying to prove himself. And now he was gone. The grief came slowly, like a tide creeping in. Her shoulders trembled. Her claws dug into the earth. She would avenge her brother. Creds to @Wof-WarriorCatLover for helping with this!
