#skydapple

Ignoring the looks of his clanmates, the gray tabby brushed past the vines and rushed into the leader’s den. 

“Fogtail?” Weedstar whined. “You know I’m having my alone time…” 

“We need to talk.”

The brown tabby didn’t move from his nest.

“Not now.”

“Weedstar—“

“I said, not now!” The leader bristled, making his scrawny body bigger than it truly was. “Fogtail, you’re more than capable— Wait, what happened to you?”

His whiskers twitched in frustration with the blood trails in his den, but he inspected his brother’s wounds. There were claw marks along his back and his eye… was now gone. 

“The rogues ambushed us! Dappledsky is dead, and we couldn’t even bring her body back!” Fogtail growled, trying to keep his frustration from showing. “This is what I’ve been telling you. Why would they pass the opportunity to attack when our clan’s been dealing with the sickness!?”

Weedstar stayed silent for a moment.

“Well, they clearly breached our agreement,” He sighed. “For now, get yourself patched up and tell her family. I’ll think of a plan.”

“Foxdung, a plan!” Fogtail snapped. “Your solution is always talking and thinking, but you never do anything! Did talking fix the rogues? Did thinking fix the sickness?”

“There’s nothing wrong with peace talks. It’s not my fault that the rogues betrayed us!”

The leader stepped to the exit as he continued.

“And I’ve told everyone to stop catching prey near the river, yet they still end up eating something sick. Why do I have to make the solution to their mousebrained decisions?”

“You think an apprentice can see it?” Fogtail growled. “You think it’s their fault the poison is scentless?”

“Shouldn’t you think you can do something more, Weedstar?”

“Ugh, here we go again. Your apprentice is going to be fine!” He scoffed. “She’s young and she’ll survive. The only ones we’ve lost are old bags of bones. It’ll be fine—”

“You call cats losing their clanmates fine?” Fogtail stepped into Weedstar’s gaze, forcing him to look at his bloodied face. “You call this fine!?”

“Death and injuries are part of a warrior’s life. Stop acting immature and get over yourself.” 

Fogtail’s claws dug deeper into the ground.

“Why are you always—“

“I am the leader. You are the deputy,” Weedstar’s voice lost its smooth and carefree tinge. There was no longer any emotion left. “Now, go see the healer. Let Dappledsky’s family know she died nobly. And get those noon patrols—”

He staggered back, surprised by the blow Fogtail had delivered. 

Fogtail took a deep breath as the cheek of his brother started to bleed. He shouldn’t do this. He had to stay calm. He could stay calm, like all those years ago.

“You…” He shut his eyes. “You never knew what a warrior’s life’s like.”

Weedstar raised a brow as his brother stayed still, not taking the steps to the den’s exit.

“Fogtail,” He sighed. “I’ve been doing everything I can—”

A blur of gray and black crossed his vision. Weedstar found himself being dragged out the leader’s den, and he hit the hard ground below. Surprised gasps and yowls echoed throughout the camp.

“Weedstar,” Fogtail growled from the top of the clan’s hightree. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit!”

“Is Weedstar okay? Where’s Dappledsky?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m caring for enough sick cats! Why’d you throw him off the tree!?”

The deputy disregarded their whispers and yowls. All he could see was how feeble Weedstar looked.

Was this worthless cat fitting to be called leader? Was this the cat IrisClan looked up to? 

The one mother oh so loved dearly?

“By my right under the skies of StarClan, and for the sake of our clan…”

“Is he…?”

“But Weedstar’s an alrigh—”

“Finally!”

“I challenge you for the leadership of IrisClan!”

The leader’s ears flattened. 

“You…! You can’t do this, Fogtail!” His meow was suddenly laced with fear. “You know I have seven lives—”

The gray tabby didn’t care as he jumped down, coming face to face with his brother. 

“Once the challenge has started, there’s no turning back,” Fogtail growled. “Fight me. Show me what warrior’s life you’ve lived. Show me what mother taught you!”

Weedstar gazed around the camp.

“Isn’t he gonna move?”

“No wonder the rogues attacked us…”

“…Fine! If you die, it’s not my fault. You’re bringing this upon yourself!”

He shook his pelt and leapt at Fogtail. The gray tabby dodged the blow. Ignoring the pain from his slashed shoulder, he pinned Weedstar down and ripped through his throat.

“That quickly..!”

“But he mentioned seven lives. Fogtail isn’t going to last…”

“Are Weedstar’s kits even old enough to be deputy?”

Coughing up the blood from his healed wound, the leader staggered up. His eyes narrowed.

The next lives were all a blur.

The second— Weedstar pinned Fogtail down. A moment of hesitation flashed in the tabby’s eyes. His deputy raked through his belly.

Third— The leader fought harder, giving Fogtail several scratches. He clamped his jaws around Weedstar’s throat.

Fourth— He didn’t let go, but the taste was overwhelming.

Fifth— The blood clung to his fur—

Sixth— Shaking paws—

Seventh—

The last. At last.

Weedstar’s body was covered in red.

The clearing was nearly red.

Utter silence filled the camp.

Everyone was afraid.

Fogtail was… 

Afraid.

Was this really what he wanted..?

If he really didn’t care for Weedstar, why did he spend all that time to help him? To cover for him?

Weedstar wasn’t all that bad. His brother had even made him deputy.

A decision made in rage.

But this time, one he couldn’t take back.

“StarClan has not intervened,” The healer, Rimethorn, snapped Fogtail out of his trance. He stood before the tom, herbs ready. “The moon remains uncovered, and to have had the strength to fight… It is undeniable that Fogtail is IrisClan’s new leader.”

With a nod, Fogtail allowed him to start wrapping his wounds.

“We can’t follow a murderer!”

“Young one, these challenges are nothing new to the history of IrisClan.”

“We needed a strong leader, anyway!”

“I haven’t heard of kin doing it before…”

“Given everything maybe they weren’t true fami—“

“Weedstar may be imperfect, but he treated me like a real brother,” Fogtail’s voice silenced them all. “I’m sure some of us do… care for him deeply. I do not expect you to forgive nor understand my choice. But I will let you know I have done this for the good of the clan.”

The only response from his clanmates was silence. If anyone still disagreed, they didn’t make any moves. Not yet.

“Rimethorn will need to focus on the sick. I will travel to the Moonstone with only… Dogweb and Moonfleck. Until my kin is of age, Gravelpelt will be the acting deputy.”

A spotted blue she-cat stepped forward. Gravelpelt’s expression was stern— even disapproving. But she was one of the few cats he could trust.

And he knew no cat held any malice or grudges against her.

Under the wary gaze of his clanmates, his group departed. 

“…Was it necessary to challenge Weedstar?” Moonfleck meowed softly. The sand-pelted tabby wasn’t afraid, but his green eyes showed concern. “To kill him?”

“…I don’t know.” Fogtail blinked. “I… I just… It’s…”

He stomped through the forest, trying to get rid of his guilt.

“Ugh! Weedstar’s always put so much work on me! Why should he have nine lives when I’m always putting myself on the line!?”

“I had to do it, Moonfleck,” He hissed. “I’ll prove to our clan why.”

“Some of them will put up a fight, Fogtail,” The senior warrior, Dogweb, meowed. “Are you prepared for that?”

“If that’s the cost to be leader, so be it,” Fogtail lashed his tail angrily. “Once we return, do not enter the camp. If I have received my lives, then I should fight.”

About Weedstar and Fogtail - COMING SOON

The Old Clans - COMING SOON