Gone

The tom stared into the night. The night was alive, humming softly. A cricket chirped, adding to the chorus of voices. As he enjoyed the music, he suddenly heard a horrible sound. He looked up and saw a large, smoky gray, almost black, cat glaring at him, a low and harsh snarl coming out of his throat.

Darkthorn leapt backwards, his fur bristling and his claws unsheathed instinctively. The music had stopped now, as if the small insects that inhabited the long, lush green grass knew that he was in danger.

The cat shot forwards, his claws extending as he pulled at Darkthorn's fur. He screeched in pain and annoyance, hissing as he plunged his teeth into the cat's fur. Darkthorn lashed his claws at the cat's flank, creating marks from which a crimson liquid dripped out, leaving a red, shining pool on the grass. They tussled on the ground, flattening the grass and disturbing the crickets, until the cat pinned Darkthorn down, his teeth grazing Darkthorn's neck.

"Who are you?" Darkthorn demanded, trying to escape.

The cat was hesitant to reply, letting out a low hiss first. "I am Smokeburn. You'll regret forgetting me."

"What did I do to you?" Darkthorn retorted indignantly, shoving Smokeburn's head off him and picking himself off the ground quickly.

Saliva dripped out of Smokeburn's jaws as he prowled closer to Darkthorn. Darkthorn's head pounded as he inched backwards until he hit something solid. A tree.

The tree would've been Darkthorn's downfall, except his quick mind saved him. His Clan had always valued quick thinking, agility, and intelligence. He had been trained in all three categories as an apprentice and had been very curious as a kit.

Darkthorn dug his claws into the oak of the tree, scrambling up. He perched on a low branch, watching Smokeburn as he slunk towards Darkthorn, his tail rippling in the darkness.

"Come get me now!" Darkthorn taunted Smokeburn. But he just gazed up at Darkthorn, an almost forlorn expression on his face.

The cat didn't show any signs of moving or letting him go, but rather, just stared at him. Darkthorn stared right back, his tail tip twitching. Smokeburn's amber eyes met Darkthorn's green eyes, neither of them willing to admit defeat.

Finally, Darkthorn broke off, growling in frustration. Was Smokeburn going to watch him for eternity? And Smokeburn had acted like he knew Darkthorn personally, but Darkthorn couldn't recall meeting Smokeburn at all. He knew he couldn't try to escape though, in case he was caught and killed.

I can't stay in this tree forever, he reminded himself. Gathering his courage, he bunched his muscles and leapt off the tree, using his weight to his advantage. His black pelt shot through the sky as he landed on all four paws, racing off back towards his Clan.

Darkthorn checked to see if Smokeburn had followed him, and to his relief, he hadn't. He rolled in some leaves so that Smokeburn would lose his scent and padded through the undergrowth and back to his camp. It was dawn by now, the sun just coming up, lighting up the valley. The birds resumed their song and Darkthorn felt as if he had been running forever. Silently promising himself that he would keep what had just happened a secret, he took a deep breath and entered the camp, wriggling into the warriors' den and collapsing in his nest.

The next day, or really, the next night, as Darkthorn preferred hunting and guarding at night, he crept through the shadows, finding his favorite spot in his Clan's territory. Darkthorn and his best friend, a pretty golden tabby with the name of Honeytail, had found a tall tree in the corner of their territory, a corner that was rarely patrolled and used.

Darkthorn and Honeytail, as apprentices, had snuck out almost every night to challenge each other. They would race to climb to the top and play fight in the strong branches of the tree. Darkthorn hadn't visited the tree in many moons, but tonight, his mind was troubled, and he needed peace and quiet.

"Surprised to see you here, little brother," a friendly, warm voice mewed. Even though they weren't related, they loved each other and treated each other as littermates and best friends.

"Honeytail!" Darkthorn blinked in surprise, his jaw dropping. "Why're you here?"

"I couldn't sleep," Honeytail admitted. "I felt...drawn to the tree."

Darkthorn dipped his head. "Something's going on."

"I agree," Honeytail's amber eyes shone with worry under the dim moonlight. "I feel it."

Then, Darkthorn realized what was wrong. The night was silent. Completely silent. Like when Smokeburn had attacked him.

"Oh, StarClan," Darkthorn cursed under his breath. "We need to get out of here."

"What's wrong?" Honeytail demanded, her ears pricked up. "I hear something coming."

"We need to go. Now!" Darkthorn lunged at Honeytail, pushing her in the general direction of the camp.

It had to be Smokeburn. The menacing tom had to have chased him.

"What is going on?" Honeytail pulled herself free of Darkthorn's grip.

"Last night I met a tom that tried to kill me and he's coming for us so if you don't mind, let's go!" Darkthorn rushed, emphasizing the last two words.

Honeytail nodded in agreement, taking it in, and the two of them raced through the woods, ducking under branches and leaping over fallen trees.

Behind them, the pawsteps became louder and faster. Darkthorn's lungs burned and he spotted Honeytail gasping for breath.

"Quick," Darkthorn wheezed. "Climb a tree! I'll distract him!"

Honeytail shook her head firmly as they skidded to a stop, disturbing some red-gold leaves of leaf-fall. Darkthorn pressed his back to Honeytail's as they circled the clearing.

A twig snapped and Darkthorn whipped his head around, searching for a pair of amber eyes.

Then, he found them.

They glowed as Smokeburn revealed himself, stalking forwards as if Darkthorn and Honeytail were his prey. Honeytail gasped softly and started to shake.

"Quit it!" Darkthorn hissed. "We need to fight him!"

"I...I can't!" Honeytail stammered, ducking her head.

Smokeburn purred loudly, forcing Honeytail to look at him. "Hello, Honeytail."

Smokeburn being so close to Darkthorn's best friend made him want to murder the tom. He growled as a warning. "Don't come closer."

"I have every right," Smokeburn sneered.

"And why's that?" Darkthorn challenged him.

"Darkthorn, please, you're making it worse," Honeytail turned to face him, her eyes pleading. "Let me handle it. Please!"

"He'll hurt you!" Darkthorn argued fiercely. What was Honeytail doing? Did she have bees in her brain?

An owl hooted softly as Honeytail left Darkthorn's side. It seemed like a claw had been driven into his heart as Honeytail went to stand next to Smokeburn. It was just then that Darkthorn realized something.

"Oh StarClan, I've been so mouse-brained," Darkthorn felt his body failing him as he struggled to breathe. "No...that's not possible! Honeytail, don't tell me it's true."

Honeytail didn't reply. Darkthorn glanced at his best friend and Smokeburn, seeing how similar they looked, standing together. They both had the same amber eyes, as well as the same strong expression. Even the white tufts of fur on their chests were identical.

"I wanted to tell you from the start..." Honeytail whispered. "But I was too ashamed."

"Tell me what?!" Betrayal rushed through Darkthorn's body and he whimpered. It hurt so much!

"We became friends because we were both alone in the nursery, without any littermates," Honeytail's voice was sharp. Darkthorn barely recognized her.

"That's right," Darkthorn mewed thickly. "I still don't understand, though."

"I had a littermate, Darkthorn! How can you be so dense?" Honeytail snapped before calming herself down. "My littermate died at birth. Or at least, I was told that. But one day,

when we were still apprentices, he found me. He saved me from a fox. Smokeburn and I are littermates, Darkthorn. We have loyalty to each other."

"What about me?" Darkthorn's voice cracked as anger took over. It was easier to be angry than to be sad, he realized. "Where is your loyalty to your best friend?"

Honeytail gave him a sad smile. "Darkthorn, we were never best friends. I never said that we were. Not once."

It was true. All along, it had been Darkthorn who had believed they were best friends.

"But..." Darkthorn couldn't wrap his mind around the possibility that Smokeburn, the cat who had almost killed him, was littermates with Honeytail, his best friend. No, according to Honeytail, they had only ever been friends.

"Smokeburn and I should go now," Honeytail didn't meet Darkthorn's eyes. "Please tell my parents what happened. They'll understand."

And she was gone, her pelt disappearing among the many trees and many plants. 

Darkthorn would never hear her bold, brave voice again.

He would never feel her soft, golden fur against his again.

He would never smell her delicious, sweet scent again.

Honeytail was gone. It seemed like the end of the world, so why wasn't the world falling?

Darkthorn fell to the ground, whimpering and sobbing. That was how his Clanmates found him the next morning.

And he put on a mask, hiding his feelings, lying to his Clanmates about what had happened, and life became normal again.

At least, to his Clan.

He told Honeytail's parents what happened, and they grieved together.

Then, anger consumed Darkthorn, and he vowed that he would never become close to any cat again. He would never let affection and friendship control him. This would never happen again, not even if it meant he would lose many opportunities. Honeytail would be living her life, and he would live his. He wouldn't think about her.

Maybe once. Or twice.

Maybe constantly. But no one knew anything about him, and Darkthorn liked it that way. He started to hide in the shadows, becoming cold and calculating. He wouldn't purr or enjoy anything. 

But it didn't matter to him, because Honeytail was gone. She might not have been dead, but to Darkthorn, she was as good as dead.  

(1670 words)