Chapter Text
She stood at the gaping hole, the scent of many muddled herbs and plants overwhelming her nostrils. It was a smell she had grown to welcome and fear, for many reasons.
It felt impossible to get her paws to move, like she were tied by a mental barrier. She didn't want to acknowledge what was happening to Foxshade, she didn't want it to be real. Foxshade was strong. Foxshade was stern and silly. Foxshade was… safety and warmth.
Walking inside meant admitting something was wrong.
But she was aware that she would grow to regret not breaking past this wall. That she would feel guilt in not seeing one of her main protectors for at least one last time. That this offers a chance to feel the heat from their flank, to hear the heart beat in their chest.
Nerves fluttered in her chest as she fought against instinct and will.
A floundering exhale left her maw. Claws dug gouges into the dirt.
Pinning her ears back and squinting her eyes shut till she saw patterns of stars, she took a step. And then another.
And then she was amidst the den, surrounded by the carefully constructed scraps that made it up. Her paws dragged down a tunnel, one off far to the left, one that had a path of poppies and other various flowers she and others had collected.
Each paw step took too long. Each petal passed her vision too quickly. Each breath felt laboured, stuck, and as if she had been slammed into a wall.
Her tail waved and jittered with anxiousness. Ears twitched and seemed as though they couldn't decide between lowered down or up and alert.
She felt her heart leap as her paw collided gently with a jagged pebble. It skittered, bouncing unevenly until it hit the edge of a nest, one filled with dark, frilly fabric. One only the owner would like.
One final heavy blink, and she lifted her head to see her mom. Her sleek black fur that usually glistened with glorious violets had toned to an almost sickly gray. One look and one may determine her already dead, if not for the lively heather eyes. The eyes that looked at her with such love, remorse, and too many unnamed emotions.
Her throat tightened, as if it were being strangled by an unseen force.
“Hey, Duskpaw,” Foxshade smiled, blue tinted gums poking out of yellowed teeth. A shudder came from them, as they struggled to maintain breath.
Duskpaw lowered down, her tail mindfully wrapping around her side in an attempt to stay steady in the storm. Her mouth opened, then closed as her voice failed through the bob in her throat. Finally, after several mouse hops, she spoke, borderlining cracking glass in how it came out, “Hey.”
A singular word. That is all she can truly manage, isn't it? Nothing like, “I love you,” or anything?
“Thanks for,” A wheeze that pained Duskpaw’s whole soul released from Foxshade’s mouth, “seeing me, kiddo.”
She stilled, eyes forcing shut as tears threatened to break through. Her chest felt as though a thousand bricks had been dropped onto it simultaneously. Like the universe had chosen violence against those who didn't deserve it. Like it always has, and will forever.
“Your welcome, mom,” Duskpaw breathed, voice straining with false hope and sadness that coiled around her already broken heart.
Fur tapped against her paw, warm. Duskpaw glanced down to see another paw resting on it, one belonging to Foxshade. It was now she realized her claws had once more began to dig deep into the ground. Slowly, she retracted them, feeling them squeeze into her paws.
Inhale, exhale.
It's okay.
Lifting herself upwards, straining on her paws, she coiled around her mom's body, one that used to be, or feel so much larger. Her muscles seemed toned down, weak.
It was recently she was sent on nest rest. Her back legs stopped responding one night, and several cats worked to transport her here. She had requested the furthest den, as no one should have seen who was practically seen as a mother figure too all be oh so fragile.
Duskpaw wished that it would be all okay, that this was a dream, and that mom would be okay. Every night, she sent prayers to the guardian stars above, begging them to save Foxshade, to keep her from joining them.
She didn't want it to go back to those cold days, when who was supposed to be a parental figure to her left, abandoned, and dropped her alone. Duskpaw didn't want to lose the sensation of her true mother lapping her tongue through her fur, the comfiness of when Foxshade kept her company during a scary thunderstorm.
She didn't want to be left alone in this world.
She didn't want to admit the truth, and to lose the one cat who truly cared about her.
Duskpaw felt cold again for once in her life, despite being next to the one thing that provided the opposite. The burning flame, the steady magma to her life.
“I fear we will have to say goodbye now,” Foxshade whispered abruptly, breaking the zen, “I feel the stars coming for me. Quite cringe of me to say, ay?”
The words shattered her soul. Duskpaw whimpered, and curled around her mom as if that would save her. Like the world hasn't made up its mind on who to take from her.
She couldn't help but feel hate burn in her stomach.
“Hey, it's okay-” Foxshade started, a warbling of unsteady voice notes.
Duskpaw cut them off with an uncontrolled hiss that startled even herself. She flinched back, guilt and one to many things flooding through her systems.
“I'm sorry,” Duskpaw managed, "it's not okay. Don't say that.. please. I can't lose you. You'll be okay?” Broken murmurs left her maw, her paw tightening its grip on Foxshade carefully.
Foxshade shivered, paws gripping the ground to keep herself upright as they gazed into the eyes of Duskpaw, “The world's unfair. It always has been. I just failed to get ahead of it this time. It's been kinder to me lately, I never deserved for it to do so. But you are one thing I will forever be glad I found, your big heart and strong personality. My spicy little kiddo. Clever and cheater at mossball. Duskpaw, I love you as if you are my own. As far as I will consider, you are my own.”
Duskpaw stared, and stared, before quietly her voice just begged to be heard, “You are my mom.”
Foxshade's eyes closed for a moment. A gentle smile overtaking her face.
Duskpaw shook with one emotion, two emotions, all of them at once burning her insides like rotten poison.
Then Foxshade's head fell to the ground, muscles shaking as the strength they no longer had let up, loosening up. Their eyes flickered once more and a stuttering breath shattered Duskpaw's heart and soul further more.
“No.. no no no no PLEASE-!” Duskpaw broke out tears finally releasing from her eyes as she struggled to hold them back. Her head practically slammed into Foxshade's, rubbing against it in a self-soothing motion.
“Be yourself for me, okay?” Foxshade murmured, voice trailing like a broken recorder, before their eyes glossed over.
Duskpaw didn't move, her brain trying and failing to compute the events in front of her. None of it was real. It was fake, a dream, she was floating, and falling. She was happy, she was sad. She was warm and cold. Poisonous laughter, joyful cheers. It all flooded past her, a dam breaking and shattering as it failed to hold still against the crashing waves.
An agonizing yell left her throat, grinding painfully against her larynx. Oceans flooded in her eyes, salt tingling and mingling as it fell onto cold fur.
She was alone.
Alone.
Her joy and happiness.
Her guiding light, her true guardian and mother.
Her everything.
Three words repeated in her mind, each further breaking her down repeatedly as she stared at cloudy eyes.
Gone, gone, gone.
Her claws begged to be released, to scratch and make anyone, anything hurt hurt hurt as she was.
It took everything in her not to harm her Mom, her beloved Mother, the one who made sure she was fed when the colony held her in a false community. The one who protected her from those that tried to hurt her. The one who always made time in her day for her, even when she felt bad, even when she was busy.
Her Mom.
It was ages before she found herself back in true reality. When she felt the fabric bunching in her strained paws. When sight came to be once more, and she saw the den once full of belonging and hope fall to tears and loss and…
Her eyes, head, everything hurt. Her mind still struggled to keep up that she was gone. Shakily, she exhaled, and stared at her paws. Idly, her tail swept, ticking side to side in practiced motion. Her ears flicked to the sound of motion barely perceived. Then-
-A voice clearing broke through the sharp, heavy air. Duskpaw puffing up as she moved in front of her mom with a hiss to the intruder. Before her eyes unblurred, and the respected Copper Colony cat, Daffodilthroat’s amber swirling pelt came into view. An air of bliss came with her, almost uncaring.
Duskbite stiffened, staring at moms best friend. The only one who mom would willingly eat with at lunch. The one who frequented the medicine den.
Gradually, she lowered her fur and moved slightly aside, tail gracing her mom's face in a gentle hold.
“‘scuse me youngin’ I didn't catch this pray for nothin’,” Daffodilthroat strolled in, tail swiping across Duskpaw’s cheek. A growl left Duskpaw’s throat, before she continued, “Me, as their sole food provider… how sad.”
Duskpaw glared out at her in further warning, ears tilting back and tail whipping across the room.
“Cat got your tongue, huh? Sorry sweetheart, not looking into being a therapist, now,” Daffodilthroat examined Foxshade, as though they were admiring an art piece. Paw prodded, poked, and almost played with them.
Defiance and hurt flooded Duskpaw, “DON’T TOUCH HER!”
Daffodilthroat smoothly dodged the paw that swiped at her. A purr rumbled in her throat, “Oh, sorry hon’, didn't know they met their end,” a small chuckle left her throat, as she once more pawed at the cat.
Duskpaw’s claws unsheathed as easy as trashed cake. Trained smoothness glided through her arm as it hit the target direct on the cheek. Daffodilthroat gasped in dramatics, a wail that pierced Duskpaw’s ears emitting from her toxic voice.
Blood trickled to the ground, dropping and dripping. Duskpaw stared and stared, even as Daffodilthroat spoke, even as Daffodilthroat turned to leave.
She didn't know how much time had passed by the time she left the den. Her paws dragged, for a different reason this time. It was regret, hate, anger for the fact they weren't alive. That they didn't have more time,
Fury and rage screamed in her mind, growing like vines choking a tree out. Hatred at herself and the world. Fear for the future.
“Duskpaw!” A tom's voice she recognized called out. Fogstripe, her adopted father.
She liked him, and that was that.
Almost drunkenly, she raised her head to look at him. Fogstripe stood stop the Scrap Hill, the center and main meeting spot of the Camp. Where all announcements are called.
Below stood Daffodilthroat, making a scene and crying and pointing at Duskpaw.
Duskpaw turned around without a second glance, paws making way to a less populated area.
And then, “Young she-cat, come here right this second.”
He really was serious about this.
“We cannot afford fights between members, especially with times current. You know this Duskpaw.”
Her paw stomped into the ground. Claws drug out again, like it has many times this night. Her tail twitched.
Like a bomb detonating, she whipped around with a crack of a paw, “YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME ANYTHING.”
She wouldn't be surprised if what she said made no sense. Her ears were still ringing, and she couldn't be bothered to fully put words together.
Duskpaw felt a snarl fall from her face, fury drowning out into a flood of despair and hurt and just pain, “She's dead. She's dead and this is what we care about? SHE'S GONE!”
Her legs gave out as she fumbled into a crouch. Inhales and exhales rapidly went through her windpipe, as her lungs overworked themselves. Her eyes narrowed, seeing the despair wash over his face.
Daffodilthroat really didn't say much did she?
She couldn't be bothered to care. Whatever. Not her problem. Shakily, with annoyance and an ounce of non-existent spite and lost anger, Duskpaw rose again. Her gaze stared out at nothing, frozen in a different place, her mind.
A yell shouted out, pure terror and pain rung into the clearing, digging into Duskpaw’s bones. Three cats broke into the Camp, with two cats on their back.
The scent of blood, a violent and potent one, rose. Duskpaw's fur rose along her spine.
“MELLOWSWIRL AND YEWSTORM...” The cat in the lead yelped, falling to a heap of fluff onto the polluted ground, “We got attacked. They didn't make it.”
And the night further crumbled in on Duskpaw, yowls digging their claws into her. Three cats, all ones who she saw as beloved. Ones who kept her safe. Gone, in one night.
She turned around and ran into her den away from reminders of loss and everything she