Chapter Twenty One

‘What’s taking him so long? I only sent him out there in hopes of finding if Bloodpaw has either died or is still alive. But, now that I think about it, was it a good idea to send Graystrike out there by himself?’ Pursing his lips a little as he sat upon the edge of a small outcrop that overlooked a small section of Shadowclan, Pinebolt, now known as Pinestrike, looked upon the milling cats. Almost three moons ago, Smokestar had stepped down from leadership; after losing Bloodpaw and coming to the realization that banning his name from the clan and from everyone was a mistake, Smokestar couldn’t deal with it any longer.

Choosing Pinebolt had been a quick decision on his part, probably he thought the former was the only qualified cat to take his place, and didn’t bother asking for anyone’s opinion on the subject. Who could blame him though? He had broken a promise long since made, and had taken a heavy toll on his heart since then. Stepping down from the pressure was the best thing for him to do. Longsky would’ve also stepped down from her duties shortly after. Not because of what happened to Bloodpaw, she still saw it best that he was a rogue; safer even. No, she had been on the verge of giving birth to several kits.

Her mate? Smokestar himself, which really created a wave of shock throughout Shadowclan. Most shockingly, that shock only lasted a quarter-moon. For Pinestrike now, it was a role that he had to ease into fast and swiftly. Queens from other clans were being targeted, and it wasn’t from the outside. Somehow, warriors within their own clans were striking down retired warriors and mothers who had just given birth. 

Those who had a paw in it, were held in suspicion and kept under close supervision. Those that were affected and confided in their own dens always pleaded that they didn’t remember committing such atrocities. They were completely ignored by those that refused to listen. It was turmoil, and it was only the beginning. Hearing all of this during a Gathering, Pinestrike became paranoid about Shadowclan suffering the same fate. So he had his warriors and apprentices periodically watching out for any signs of unnaturalness among themselves while sending them out on daily patrols three times a day. He believed it was easier and better that way.

“Pinestrike!” Ears perking up at the sound of Graystrike’s voice, Pinestrike raised his head towards the entrance of the camp just as the light silver tom clambered through the tight squeeze, careful not to get scratched by the brambles. Clambering down from his perch to meet him halfway, both toms greeted each other with a slight touch of a nuzzle before walking side by side towards a small clearing away from prying ears. Pinestrike may have lifted the ban on saying Bloodpaw’s name, but there were still things that needed to stay secret.

“Well?” Pinestrike mewled as his irises started to expand in excitement, hoping for some good news for once. He was getting tired of receiving these grim reports of the other clans, and knowing that Shadowclan was next.

“I saw him.” Graystrike answered with a bit of coldness sinking into his voice. Pinestrike didn’t have to ask who he was referring to. “He’s changed. Completely, because he acted like he was never part of Shadowclan all those moons ago.” Graystrike didn’t bother hiding the accusation that laced his tone in any shape or form.

“No. mm-hm. I refuse to believe the old Bloodpaw is gone. Not completely. He’s in there somewhere.” Pinestrike couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Has Bloodpaw really renounced his ways from Starclan? Coldly for that matter? Pinestrike could understand how angry he had felt when the truth didn’t just blurt out, it slammed into him. Struck him harder than any wound. The look in his eyes before he left, ran away, it still haunted Pinestrike ever since. Still did.

“Also, from the looks of it, he joined with a bunch of rogues.” There was no hesitation in saying that. How and the way Bloodpaw, no sorry, Dusk, had told him that the group he was in was under his protection, it just caused a tear in his heart to open. Graystrike had high hopes of encountering his old friend and convincing him to return, but only to find all of his hopes dashed against the rocks with zero remorse.

Pinestrike was utterly appalled by this. ‘What ... .how in Starclan. No, why in Starclan would Bloodpaw associate himself with the likes of rogues?’ It didn’t feel right, and it didn’t make sense. ‘Is he pissed off that he would swiftly join with the likes of THEM with no questions asked?’ It made Pinestrike want to vomit indefinitely. “Continue to keep an eye on him. If he’s associating himself with rogues, I don’t want him anywhere close to Shadowclan. 

I had prayed to Starclan that there was a chance the Bloodpaw that we knew was still there. A small amount, but still remaining to be saved. Now I know….he’s lost to us for good. If he doesn’t want to return to us, then he’s most definitely dead to us.” He hissed icily between clenched fangs.

“.....” Though it was crushing to hear that confirmation, Graystrike pushed down his retort. The image of Bloodpaw, the one that used to help others without even thinking, shattered into dust only to be replaced by a stranger that looked like him. He couldn’t break the news to Creamshadow. Not after her mate, Sagebrush, and her were living a happy life with their kits.

Hearts full of regret for what they had decided on, though knowing they had no choice any longer, both Pinestrike and Graystrike went their separate ways. Unbeknownst to them, Sagebrush, who had just come out of the warriors den; had witnessed the secrecy between the two. ‘Bloodpaw, alive? With rogues no less? Is he part of all of this? Is this happening because of him?’ Eyes casting themselves towards the ground as the wheels in his brain started to turn, Sagebrush slowly backed into the den. A plan already formulating in his mind.