the kill wrote:crowstar was distressed. irked, bothered, frustrated. it had been a quarter of a moon since he'd discovered the death of his trusted deputy and a quarter of a moon since he'd had to exile one of the most promising young cats in the clan. it was reasonable for him to be upset, really, and surely the rest of the clan felt the same way.
he raised his head at the sound of rustling leaves from outside his den. the lichens hanging from the entrance rippled, and he could see anxiously pacing paws underneath whe. standing up and shaking the moss out from his pelt, he croaked, ”come in.”
in walked what was likely the most wide-eyed cat he’d ever seen, with shaky, hesitant pawsteps as though they were hunting a skittish vole or approaching a nest of foxes. ”um! i, well, i was told to check uh… up on you. i hope you don’t mind.”
he gave a reluctant sigh and a flick of his tail. ”then you can tell whoever sent you that i’m doing fine. you can go now.”
they jumped a bit, startled by the sudden dismissal. crowstar gave them a puzzled look. they cleared their throat and coughed, ”i also wanted to ask if you’d like to go around the territory and perhaps check for clues about--” they bit their lip indecisively. he could tell they were trying to avoid mentioning rooksea’s death around him. ”about the recent situation. i was told to help you to get some fresh air.” while crowstar didn’t seem to find anything particularly wrong with what they were saying, they winced like they’d just called their leader a featherbrained mouseheart.
”that sounds fine to me,” crowstar yawned, sitting himself up straight. ”i do suppose i could use some time to stretch my legs. i’m sure ocelotstep can take care of camp while we take a stroll.” he rose to stand, flexing his claws on the stone floor of the den. ”let’s get going. wouldn’t want to leave the camp unprotected for too long.” the killer chuckled and led the way out of the den, their voice soft and stuttery.
when they left, crowstar felt himself drawn to the greenleaf twolegplace where rooksea had been last seen. his mate, the mother of his kits (one of which he’d exiled just after the discovery of her death), and his deputy. the twoleg nest seemed to loom over him like the tallest tree in the forest. in that moment, thunderclan’s leader regretted ever stepping out of his nest.
the killer was quiet. crowstar looked over to them longingly before shaking his head. ”stay here,” he ordered, tapping the tip of his tail on the ground. ”the twolegs must have moved out for leaf-fall. i’m going to go see if there’s anything good to catch in there.” without another word, he slunk over the pointed white fence. this would be too easy, the killer realized. as instructed, they waited patiently outside of the twoleg-made den.
inside the den was dark for early morning. sunlight filtered in through the invisible barriers in the holes in the walls. the scent of mouse was fresh, but so was the scent of twoleg-- they must have moved out very recently. crowstar dropped into a crouch. the den was empty, he knew, but he didn’t want to alert any possible prey.
the scuttling of mice caught his ears in the next few heartbeats. twisting around a sharp corner, he spotted a plump mouse nibbling on some discarded twoleg food. with a short leap, crowstar pounced on it, giving it a swift bite to its neck to end its life as it squealed. from further off in the twoleg nest, he heard a loud crash, causing him to jump and the fur along his spine to bristle.
his blood ran cold as he saw a tall wooden barrier not too far away slam open. what appeared to be a dazed twoleg stumbled out, the usually bright pelts that crowstar usually saw on twolegs dull. in its paw was cupped a small, strange object, like a bent stick, a kinked tail or a claw, coated in a shiny black material. catch still dangling in his mouth, he darted back out from where he’d come in. the killer was still sitting outside.
”run!” he yowled to them, bushy tail waving frantically. behind him, a loud bang started. the fluttering of wings was muffled by the sound of the bang echoing in his head. the killer didn’t run, instead staying perfectly still. if he looked closer, they seemed almost… amused? he snarled, hearing another bang. ”i said run! that’s an order!” they still remained motionless.
crowstar spun around at the sound of a shout. standing in the entrance to the twoleg nest was the twoleg, its false claw pointed menacingly at him. he didn’t know what that thing could do and frankly he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. the twoleg barked at him in irritation. behind him, he still didn’t hear any pawsteps; the killer was likely still standing behind the spiky fence.
-ollytwwoyuhleslujfwotlnsnioslioeauwdgmaloel crosswords! crossword- -
the killer was delighted. in their head, the plan had gone a lot differently: they would lead crowstar to the twoleg nest, he would believe he’d gone there on his own out of his grief for rooksea, he’d enter and be eaten by the twoleg’s dog. this turned out to be much better than they’d anticipated.
a third bang! sounded and crowstar let out a furious cry of pain. they peered closer; lodged in the leader’s snowy white shoulder was a hole, blacker than the rest of the leader’s fur. spattered around the wound was a thick coating of blood. crowstar was panting furiously, still begging them to run for their life. after a few more bangs rang out in succession, they felt satisfied. the twoleg would take care of however many lives the former leader had left. the killer turned around and returned home, tail swishing happily.
uh-oh, another one gone. watch out, thunderclan!
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