User:Rainlegs/Reedstar's Wish

Prologue
Risingfeather stifled a snarl as a sharp kick came from inside her. The mouse-brained tom got me pregnant...these kits are his. She stifled another hiss, shredding a borage leaf with her long claws as she prepared a poultice to treat a patient in the other half of the medicine den. Being a medicine cat, Risingfeather was fully aware of the consequences if the word that she was expecting Marshshade's kits got out. The dark brown tabby tom was one of the Clan's most influential, strong, and confident warriors, most likely the next deputy once Stonetooth retired, and Risingfeather, using every last ounce of charm in her, had finally persuaded the tom to fall in love with her, not anticipating the after-effects of being with him.

Snapped back into reality with another small kick, Risingfeather finished shredding the leaf into a poultice, scooping it up with a paw and plopping the mixture onto an oak leaf. Grabbing either side of the leaf, she picked it up in her jaws and carried it out of her store to treat her patient.

Risingfeather stifled a smirk as she led Marshshade out of camp, the she-cat's tail resting lightly on the tom's well-muscled shoulder. The duo had sneaked out of camp by moonlight, headed towards their usual meeting place. Risingfeather hustled to the place, knowing daybreak was coming soon, and she needed to fulfill her mission before then.

Marshshade stopped, sitting down on a small patch of moss under the Weeping Willow tree. The tree provided shelter from the snow, which was currently deep and thick out in the open. Being the dead of Winter, the air was crisp and cold, and Risingfeather could see his every breath, cloudy in the cool, dark air.

"Why did you drag me out here this late at night?" Marshshade meowed, tilting his head curiously at his mate. Risingfeather snorted.

"I'm pregnant," she growled, her usual seductive tone gone from her voice. Marshshade flicked his tail, seeming uninterested.

"Cool," he meowed, giving a slight shrug.

"Cool? Cool? Do you know what this means? The whole camp will know I disobeyed the Warrior code. I'll be shunned, and I won't hesitate to mention the name of the father," she threatened, narrowing her icy-blue eyes. Marshshade perked up at that, narrowing his own in turn.

"You wouldn't dare," he growled, allowing his claws to sink into the soft, deep moss beneath him.

"Try me," Risingfeather replied, giving a small, satisfied smirk.

"But, no need to worry about your upcoming position as deputy...you won't live to see the results of our relationship, let alone that place within the clan." Risingfeather slowly bunched up her hind legs beneath her slim figure, preparing to leap as soon as the tom figured out the true meaning of her intentions. Marshshade's eyes widened slightly, as if in shock that the flirty medicine cat would have the audacity to attempt to carry out such a crime, and stifled a laugh.

"You wish," he sneered, sitting up a little straighter. "I could take you out with a paw tied behind my ba-" Marshshade began to reply, his eyes shut. He jerked them open as his words were cut off by an intense pain in his throat, along with the warm, sticky feeling of blood pouring from the open wound that had appeared. Looking in front of him, back at Risingfeather, the tom could see the medicine cat licking the blood slowly off of her claws, a satisfied, sinister smirk on her features.

My deed is done, she thought, watching the tom crumple to the ground, the moss beneath him stained with crimson blood and the shocked expression still on his features.

"May these kits carry with them the strength of their sire, yet my cunning abilities...hopefully they won't make my mistakes. StarClan, mark my words- these kits will take my clanmates by a storm not even you can prevent," Risingfeather meowed, loud, slowly, and clear; her words echoing under the shade of the willow tree. She could see her breath cloud up in the cool air in front of her, and she continued. "Let at least one of them rule my pathetic Clan with a stern paw- may he or she be successful within their Clan ranks, yet remain loyal to me and my cause. May they start a fire, and end with a bang...something the Clans cannot forget for years to come, and will tell their kits for moons after their death."

Pausing, Risingfeather continued. "I'll raise them myself- my Clan need a medicine cat after the death of my mentor. They won't punish me, and won't have much to work with if they punish me, with the father dead. These kits will grow up with their mother a medicine cat...and they'll be stronger because of it. I'll make sure they reign...and nothing will get in my way." Risingfeather cleared her throat, glancing back at the dead, cooling body of her former mate. Satisfied, she walked over, picking up the tom by the scruff of the neck, and began to drag him through the woods, any scent and bloodstains being washed away with the snowfall as she abandoned the body at the entrance to a fox den; knowing that the morning patrol would find him in a few hours.

Feeling a small kick, Risingfeather glanced at her belly once more, noting that she had become plumper. She held back a small purr, and walked back to camp alone.

A storm not even you can prevent.