Flintpaw's Legend ~part 12~

Instructions

Lockfoot and Flinthawk returned to camp it was late at night as Flinthawk flopped into his nest Starclan knew and now he was stumped should he tell the clan that he was the killer that he hurt his clan mates or should he continue his wrath to keep his clan pure the choice was up to him and him alone when he woke in the morning he padded out of the den and to the fresh kill pile he sat down by it plucking a vole and slowly chewing at it a Warrior Lilyfurn walked over “Good morning Flintpaw” Flinthawk looked up “Its Flinthawk I had my ceremony last night” Lilyfurn gasped “You did! Well look at you, you're all big and grown!” she playfully cuffed him over the ear and Flinthawk growled “Quit that!” He swiped at her without thinking. His claws caught her nose, slicing the skin. Blood beaded and trickled down. He froze, paw still raised. In an instant the images from his vision slammed back into his mind blood, yowls, cats he loved hurt by his own claws. “Oh, great StarClan! I’m so sorry, Lilyfurn!” he blurted, stumbling back. Flinthawk stared at the blood on his claws as if it belonged to some other cat. Lilyfurn flinched back, eyes wide, then shook herself and forced a small, wobbly purr. “Hey, it’s okay. Just a scratch. I shouldn’t have teased you.” “It’s not okay,” he rasped. His throat felt tight, as if thorns were lodged there. “I-I didn’t mean to. I would never-” “Flinthawk?” Another voice cut in. Oscarstar was crossing the clearing, gaze flicking from Lilyfurn’s nose to Flinthawk’s raised paw. “What happened here?” Heat roared in Flinthawk’s ears. The whole camp seemed to tilt. Cats were looking now, apprentices pausing over their prey, elders lifting their heads, a queen peering out from the nursery. “I just got too rough,” Lilyfurn said quickly, stepping between them. “My fault. I startled him.” Oscarstar’s eyes narrowed. “Is that true, Flinthawk?” The truth clawed at his belly. Tell him. Tell them everything. Before it’s too late. Another voice, colder, whispered back: And let them cast you out? How will you protect the Clan then? Flinthawk swallowed hard, claws digging into the earth. “I… I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he managed. “But I did. I lost my temper.” Oscarstar held his gaze for a long moment, unreadable. “Come to my den after sunhigh,” he said at last. “We’ll talk then.” He nodded to Lilyfurn. “Get that cleaned. Have Lockfoot look at it.” As Oscarstar turned away, the camp slowly returned to its murmurs and movement, but Flinthawk felt every glance like thorns in his pelt. Lilyfurn brushed his shoulder with her tail, gentle this time. “Really, I’m fine,” she murmured. “Don’t look so scared. You’re not a bad cat, Flinthawk.” He couldn’t answer. Because in his mind, the vision replayed again and again his claws, his Clanmates’ blood and he wasn’t sure anymore if she was wrong.