#horsekit

“Do you think we could ask Brightnight?”

“Brightnight knows how to heal, but she doesn't understand these things.”

“I hope StarClan was talking more of a possibility, rather than certainty.”

“I hope so, too…” Asterpaw showed his claws. “Because if he does anything, I’m going to kill him.”

Asterpaw was small and untrained, but above all he was shy. The tyrant Lynxstar would easily subjugate him if the two of them came to blows. Worse than that, Lynxstar would guarantee him a death so cruel and painful it would be remembered as legend for generations to come.

Horsepaw shivered. She couldn’t lose her only friend like this.

The next day, Lynxstar woke the two apprentices early. His pupils were straight, his fangs were sharp, and his long, thick coat only made him look bigger. A terrifying sight to open the eyes to. With a shrill voice, he greeted: “Good morning, pipsqueaks! Afternoon, even!”

“Where are you taking us?” Horsepaw asked.

“To take a look around, no biggie. I can’t expect the prince to die for his clan, if he doesn’t know what he’s fighting for!”

“He’ll just kill us?” Asterpaw whispered, the eve’s courage vanishing.

“Not just yet, if he’s smart,” answered Horsepaw.

“That’s not comforting…”

“What are you two chitter-chatting about in the back?” Lynxstar’s voice came again, loud and musical. “I’ll start feeling left out!”

That was the first time Asterpaw was allowed to leave the caves and, even if it was under such dreadful circumstances, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of childlike wonder once his pupils became accustomed to the overwhelming light of the outside world. The winter breeze greeted him with a hit violent enough to make his entire coat bristle at once. He quivered when he inhaled the cold air. It felt as if he was breathing onto ice, and he began to sneeze.

The young apprentice experimented with his first few steps, the snow softly melting away around his pads as he did so. He leaped, surprised. It was too cold for it to be comfortable.

He heard Lynxstar’s giggle, as he spoke: “During the first founding, EarthquakeClan cats had some extra fur on their toes so walking would be less uncomfortable. You seem to have inherited the traits of a stray, though, Asterpaw!”

“How do you know about this?” Asterpaw hissed.

Lynxstar’s voice became very serious when he answered: “My mother told me these stories all of the time…”

The sparked Asterpaw’s interest. If he remembered correctly, he was one of the first clanborn EarthquakeClan cats; even Horsepaw, who was his age, had only been abandoned by the border rather than born from a clanmate. If Lynxstar knew those stories, it meant he had been around clan life for even longer than Pikestar had.

“I did not know you belonged to another clan…” the apprentice remarked.

“I don’t belong anywhere, prince,” he hissed, and then trotted further away.

Horsepaw gave Asterpaw a ‘that was weird’ look, and then shrugged. “Maybe, he was exiled,” she mocked. 

Her initial suspicions on how the day would play out were proven correct when Lynxstar began to take notice of every hard-to-get-to corner in EarthquakeClan’s territory, complementing their discoveries with comments on how patrols wouldn’t usually come that far and how pitiful it was if there was some good, fresh meat to be taken around those areas. This was just going to be a fear-mongering expedition, and since it wouldn't add to their training, she decided to not pay much attention.

“Do you want to train our fighting skills together, Asterpaw?” Horsepaw offered, once they came back.

“I’m too tired,” he replied.

“I’ll train by myself, then. You never know when you’ll need the skill.”

“And who will you train with?”

“I don’t know. I’ll find someone.”

Their next training session was much better, though it clearly expected similar reactions from the apprentices: it was a fighting assessment, where Lynxstar would see how the two apprentices fought before directing their classes to fit their specific strengths and weaknesses. That session was just an excuse to show off how easily he could dodge their attacks, and how fast he could immobilize them if it proved to be necessary — even when it was the two of them at once. It wasn’t for nothing that he was known as an excellent fighter amongst his clanmates: he was unbeatable, and if he had allies, unkillable.

“He made a mistake this time,” Horsepaw commented. “He showed me how he fights.”

“And you expect to get better than him in a day?”

“No, just good enough to give him a good scare.”

It was on their third training session that a truly relevant event took place. A bouleversement in how the felines viewed their relationship with one another.

It was supposed to be the training session where the mentor came back with perfectly tailored classes for the two apprentices, so they could build up from the previous lesson, but he came acting as if he had nothing prepared. 

Horsepaw could not contain her frustration: “You’re just wasting our time!”

“But I’m taking your training very seriously!” Lynxstar commented, while purring in amusement. “It’s just that I’m so clumsy! Ough, the crushing responsibility of leadership! Asterpaw, please promise us that you’ll never be like me once you’re the great Asterstar.”

Horsepaw lunged, but Lynxstar dodged her attack. 

“Be careful,” Lynxstar advised, cynically, “I could have almost thought you were trying to hurt me. That could get you exiled.”

She lunged again, only this time she managed to cling onto his back with her claws. He was always expecting her to attack from the front or from the sides the day before. A holler of surprise and pain echoed in the otherwise still forest, as Lynxstar leaped, almost convulsive, in an attempt to make the young apprentice fall.  

Horsepaw used his surprise to her advantage: she took her claws near his throat, but only managed to tear some of his fur away. No blood was drawn from the area. She screamed, desperately: “Asterpaw, come on! We need to kill him nine times!”

He managed to move one of his legs. Then the other. Until he finally managed to join in. He hopped into action, his laws biting onto one of the despot's pointy ears. Now, blood was drawn.

Lynxstar managed to swing enough to throw Horsepaw away, swiftly switching focus to Asterpaw. His long, curvy claws hit the young tom from multiple places he could not predict; no matter how agile his movement was, he was always ill-timed; and Lynxstar pressed the young prince against the floor, his tail swinging.

In the meantime, the she-cat’s body hit a leafless tree, and she grunted in great frustration. She had been so close. She had been so close. She had been so close she knew she was capable of giving the finishing blow, and she would not stop until she had.

She stood up her head, fierce, but instead of finding the same deadly expression on the leader’s green eyes, she found a sudden dismay. Not just any dismay: the one that accompanies the inevitable. She looked in the same direction he was looking at: a branch big enough to break her spine quickly descended towards her.

It all happened in a nick of time: one moment, Horsepaw was aware of danger; the other, she had been pushed away from it; then the next, an unbearable pain struck her. The spine itself was safe, but her tail was not, the cracking noise told her.

“Horsepaw!” Asterpaw ran towards her. “Horsepaw, are you—”

“Get me out before he kills us!”

“Okay, okay!”

While Asterpaw worked, Horsepaw looked around, desperately searching for Lynxstar. He was nowhere to be seen, at least on the spots where she was looking: when she looked at the branch, she found him, his head right under it.

Asterpaw managed to roll it enough to set both of them free, but warned: “You can’t move just yet! I’ll get back to camp and call for help. Brightnight will know how to take you out of here without breaking it more!”

Horsepaw was not listening. Not only was the pain deafening, the image of the still tom she attacked was distracting: half of his face was crushed, and the gray fur of yesterday was now vividly scarlet. The horror of realization was permanently marked on what was left of his broken skull, his claws were still visible; and yet, his pelt still danced with the wind just as if he was still alive.

Still, it wasn’t in the fright of the scene that Horsepaw focused, and it was clear when she said: “He pushed me…” 

Asterpaw looked, shut his eyes, and ran towards camp. There was no time to lose.

“He pushed me…” Horsepaw repeated to herself. Why?

Alone, she watched as the carcass’ head began to again take its original form — none of his other injuries would heal, only the one that had killed him. Blood would not vanish, but the bones were rapidly reconstructing their structures, and Horsepaw would listen. Then, she listened to the carcass’ initial gasp for air, which was strange because she did not hear any sound she recognized. Finally, Lynxstar moved, contorting his face while cowering. His eyes gained color as he moved them to gaze at Horsepaw, but they did not regain the sarcastic expression they usually carried. They looked tired. He stared at her mangled tail and, under his breath, he muttered: “Well, you won’t lunge at me that easily for a while.”

After a short pause, he concluded, purring quietly: “But you’ll learn again. And when you do, you won’t be mouse-brained enough to try to claw my throat out of my neck when you can’t even look at where you’re scratching!”

Horsepaw did not know what to say, but she did move her ears: there were footsteps coming, and they did not belong to a cat.

Lynxstar cursed and said: “A guy’s luck can be that bad, can it…?” he looked at Horsepaw and asked: “You wouldn’t be able to run right now, would you, love?”

Horsepaw frowned, but still shook her head in answer.

“Oh wow… a guy’s luck can be that bad, then,” he said while he forced himself to stand up. His body kept swinging from side to side, but he remained in an acceptable enough fighting position.

The gigantic silhouette of a predator became clear, and it was looking at them with great interest, most of its traits hidden by the environment. Horsepaw could only sense its smell and see its yellow, killer eyes.

“What animal is this?” She asked.

“Ah, it’s nothing! Just a mommy snow-leopard!”

“What…?”

“Hey, horsey, if I were you? I’d hide my face. Like, immediately.”

Raventuft, Riverfur, Brightnight and Leopardwillow all agreed to follow Asterpaw back to where he had left the others, but none of them was expecting to find a dead snow-leopard at the scene.

“Lynxstar!” Raventuft and Riverfur said in unison, running towards him. The tom was lying on a pool of blood, with scratch marks big enough to kill, and yet somehow he was still breathing.

“Is it you, ducky?” Lynxstar feebly asked. 

“Of course it’s me!” Raventuft cried, pressing his muzzle against his head. “What in the name of our ancestors happened here?”

He smiled. “I killed a mommy snow-leopard, ducky! I wish you could have seen it! She didn’t… stand a… chance…”

Lynxstar’s eyes rolled back and his head fell in a thumping sound. Despite the scare, his chest still steadily moved up and down, and Brightnight began tending to his wounds right there and then.

“What happened here?” Leopardwillow demanded, while she looked at Horsepaw and Asterpaw.

“Can you wait until she’s done with the poppy seeds?” Asterpaw asked.

“No, it’s alright,” Horsepaw answered, already feeling the numbness of the seeds she was given, “I can talk. It was my fault.”

“Excuse me?” Leopardwillow and Asterpaw’s voices came in together.

“I didn’t look where I was going, remember? That branch was going to crush me, so Lynxstar didn’t let it. The leopard was probably hunting nearby and heard the commotion. After all, which cat doesn’t like easy prey?”

Leopardwillow fell into thoughtful silence. “Lynxstar… was protecting you?”

The silver apprentice nodded. “Yes. He was. Why? Did you think it was his fault Asterpaw came in to call you?”

Flustered, Leopardwillow became unable to answer. Of course she thought the incident had been an assassination attempt! Who could blame her for it? Still, if what Horsepaw was saying was true, then she would’ve heavily misjudged the warrior. After all, she had never heard of any other cat determined enough to kill a large cat by himself.

Brightnight fixed her posture, and spoke, as she stretched: “He lost a life today, but he won’t be losing a second one so soon. Now, let us see how that tail is doing, Horsepaw. Are you awake enough to answer my inquiries? Good.”

Man, that was awkward. That was extremely awkward.

Horsepaw had just left the medicine cat den, her tail now looking like nothing more than a cotton ball; but she was alive and slowly learning how to compensate for her newfound lack of balance. She was sitting in front of him now, and it was killing him from the inside out. Why couldn’t she just curse him and walk away?

“So, uh…” Horsepaw broke the silence, looking at her toes, “How’s your head?”

Lynxstar responded, muffled: “Ah, you know… fatal injuries heal, non-fatal don’t… yeah… Not sorry for the nightmares I gave you, though, you gotta admit that resurrecting like that was pretty hardcore.”

“I… guess it was, yeah.” 

“Yeah.”

Lynxstar was beating his tail on the floor, impatiently, until he couldn’t take it anymore: “Why did you lie?”

“Lie?”

“That you weren’t looking when the tree was falling down on you.”

“I didn’t say that. I said that the branch was going to crush me, and that it was my fault you were injured. I didn’t tell one lie to Leopardwillow.”

“But you lied by omission!”

“Do you want me to un-lie then?”

“No!” he cleared his throat, and repeated: “No… I just want to know why, and then we can go back to hating each other’s guts. I kinda miss that.”

Horsepaw hesitated, and when she spoke, it sounded as if she was being forced to admit to an embarrassing childhood story: “You threw yourself to a snow-leopard’s jaws because I wouldn’t be able to run away from it. I think I can pretend you weren’t scaring Asterpaw the same day you do that.”

“You were the one who wanted to assassinate me!” 

“And you never thought about killing me or Asterpaw? Right.”

Lynxstar opened his mouth to protest, but not a word came out of it. He huffed: “I hate you.”

“Likewise. But I owe you one, now. Two, perhaps.”

“Hey, horsey… you know you don’t need to be all honorable and formal, right? You’re just a kid, not a senior warrior.”

Horsepaw slowly tilted her head.

“I don’t know, whenever you start talking… it freaks me out. Feels like you’re forcing yourself to sound more serious when you should be getting all wide eyed about fireflies or whatever. I know nobody wanted to be your foster mom around here, but we all took turns taking care of you. You’re just as EarthquakeClan as any of us are.” 

Horsepaw was not expecting him to say any of that, but he was right. She always felt as if she was an outsider inside of the clan, and as an outsider she needed to try and skip steps to be respected. Even if he didn't have the best tact to speak of the issue, it felt nice that he noticed it.

“Yeah, so all of that to say: I don’t want you to owe me anything. Still want you to blindly obey me, though. Can you do that for me?”

Horsepaw snorted, purring in amusement. She had almost forgotten that Lynxstar was not that much older than her and Asterpaw, becoming leader at less than 24 moons. Of course he was still immature, especially in his sense of humor. “Not a chance!”

“Come on, I don't want to get rid of you! That’ll be like exiling my daughter! Do you want me to feel like I’m exiling my daughter?”

"Maybe," she answered, showing her tongue at him, while she walked towards the apprentice's den.

He followed suit, but walked towards the leader's den instead. Raventuft waited for him, serious. "We need to talk."

Lynxstar pulled up his best abandoned kittypet eyes. "I hate it when you say that."

"You became leader this moon, and you already lost a life! Are you understanding the gravity of the situation?"

Oh, so the abandoned kittypet eyes was not going to work that moon. "I'll just sit around and watch the next time an apprentice is about to die, got it."

"And why couldn't you? You never cared about breaking the Warrior Code!"

"Maybe I don't want to be like him!" Lynxstar turned his head away. "Maybe I want to be better than him. Maybe."

Of course, he was moping about Darkstripe. He was always moping about Darkstripe.

Raventuft sighed. He could be affected by his mate's first death, and how wasteful it was in the greater picture, but he could not deny he had a point. "You do know that Asterpaw still might pose a threat to us... right?"

Lynxstar lowered his ears. "I do."

"This is your plan, I'm just helping you go along with it."

"No, it's your plan. My plan was worse."

"Whatever, it's our plan now. And we either intimitate him, or..." he paused, waiting for Lynxstar to complete the thought.

"Kill him."

"Eeeexactly! And if I remember correctly, you were only thinking about the murder the first time we went through this! What changed?"

Lynxstar lied down in a corner, covering his face with his tail. There were a couple of marks in it that would easily make him pass as a tabby, not a spotted cat. They would very similar to Asterpaw's marks, if only his tone of gray was closer to blue. Then he remembered Asterpaw's face when Horsepaw pounced on him, and how powerless he seemed; how easy it was to defeat him.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I really don't know."