The Kill wrote:
when mouselily was young, her
mother always used to say that
most things seemed unfair.
"you will always find some
reason to cry for your own
sake, my dear little ones. no
matter what happens, life will
always seem as though it is
unfair, unjust to you, and to
you in particular, like starclan
has something against you.
"if you look for ways the world
is cruel, you will never cease
to find them, and it will eat you
up inside, tear at your belly co-
nstaantly, like claws, only sharp-
-er, and more painful."
that was what she used to say,
so mouselily had always done
her best to stay positive, to fight
hard and to never fall into blam-
-ing the world for her problems.
she was a good, straight-forward
she-cat, and did her best, beca-
-use that was what she was taught
she ought to do.
and she had been blessed for it.
she'd given birth to two wonderful
kits, who had grown into wonder-
-ful apprentices, training and
working hard. she had taught her
own offsprings the lessons her
mother had instilled within her,
and she lived happily.
until now.
barely a quarter of a moon ago,
mouselily had lost her mate. he
had been deputy, had been a
good and kind and brave cat, and
though he'd had his days, he was
always the cat that anyone would
think of when they thought of a
deputy. he'd been killed at the
paws of enemy patrol when they
met on the border. things had
quickly turned sour, gotten out
of control despite gorseface's
calm and vibrant personality. he
had been murdered, and both
patrols had gone home somber,
quiet, grieving.
his sister, beetlenose, succeeded
him as deputy shortly after his
death, and it had been bittersweet
for the small she-cat.
for days, mouselily had been on
edge, watching over those close to
her carefully. at night, she would
find herself lying awake, watching
beetlenose's flank rise and fall, soft
breaths echoing in the den.
she wanted to protect them. all of
them, for as long as she could.
that night, mouselily had spent the
night in the clearing, in an attempt
to clear her head. she wished she
had been there, to at least see him
go, to comfort him through his final
breaths.
he was too young to have died in
such a silly argument about a scrap
of fur and meat.
as she sat still, gazing at the moon,
she didn't have a chance to fight back
against her killer.
claws pierced her flesh, teeth buried
in her spine. she could not make a
sound, the teeth severing her nerves
with a soft, quick snap, a light flashing
through the she-cat's eyes before her
optics went dim. she slumped, and she
slid to the ground, unable to think, un-
-able to breathe as her vision darkened.
in the silence, as mouselily's life seeped
from her pretty, slender body, the killer
pressed their nose into her neck, taking
a deep, quiet breath.
"i'm sorry. this way, you won't have to
suffer through anything that comes next."
came the hushed voice, before the killer
turned, glancing up at the moon.
this was just the beginning, after all.
watch out, thunderclan! a killer lurks
among you!