backwritten ANNIE, HOLD A LITTLE TIGHTER, I MIGHT JUST SLIP AWAY! [❄️] pikemaw

[HEMLOCKSHINE]

cw: murder, toxic friendships

It isn't until after he returns with his search patrol that reality begins to set in. Hemlockpaw quietly excuses himself as they file solemnly into camp, hoping his Clanmates mistake his obvious distress for grief, and bolts for the beech copse.

I murdered him.

The memory of Reedfang's shock, anger, and sheer disappointment as he slipped over the edge and fell to his death replays in his head, over and over. Even as he plummeted towards his doom, he still got the last laugh, one last look of disapproval before Hemlockpaw never had to see him again. His triumph torn out from under his paws before it even had a chance to settle. If his Clanmates find out what he's done, what little reprieve Reedfang's absence in his life will give him will be torn away from him, too.

I murdered him.

He'd done his best to mask the scene, running a frantic back and forth around the area to make it seem like he'd been searching, but there's still a chance that someone will see through his ruse. They'd have to be particularly bloodless to look at a panicking, newly fatherless apprentice and see a murderer, but Hemlockpaw feels as if his misdeed has to be visible on his pelt somehow. Surely you can't just kill a cat and come away from it unstained, unmarked.

The beech copse is as silent as the grave when he stumbles to a halt in the shelter of its bowers, breathing heavily and damp from swimming. A terrified sob chokes in his throat - I need Pikepaw. But he can't tell Pikepaw, can he? He can't even tell his siblings. He can't trust anyone to keep this secret with him. The weight of his crimes, the loneliness of his knowledge, presses down on his shoulders like StarClan themselves have reached down a massive, celestial paw to crush him against the earth. The young tom collapses under the pressure, frightened tears spilling from his big blue eyes. I murdered him... The shadows of the beeches feel full of judgemental stares; everyone knows, they must know, his guilt must be plain to see, there's no way he's just going to get away with it, right? Everyone's believed him so far... it's too good to be true, there has to be a reckoning waiting for him back at camp. There has to...

A twig snaps nearby. Hemlockpaw jumps, pushing himself half up to gaze around himself in fear. "Who..."

His heart drops into his stomach as he recognizes the eerie orange eyes that peer at him from the lengthening shadows. If not for the white patches cutting through his dark pelt, Pikepaw's stare would almost seem disembodied. "P-Puh-Pikepaw?" Hemlockpaw whimpers tremulously. "Y-You shouldn't - I - why are..." Dizzy with horror, he half forgets his resolve to keep this a secret; "A-Am I in t-t-trouble?"

---

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎┌── i wonʼt soothe your pain ⋆⋅☾⋅⋆ i wonʼt ease your strain ──┐‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

• @TragicallyTrans

• 

• HEMLOCKSHINE ✩ he/him, warrior of riverclan, 21 moons
  ⭃ a tall, lithe black smoke tom with blue eyes and low white. he is cold, composed, and willing to resort to manipulation to get what he wants. he is incredibly vain, to the point that anyone who mars his pretty face is in for a world of pain. please note that hemlockshine will be prone to saying and doing awful things that i, as his roleplayer, do not condone. all of his opinions are ic only.
  ⭃ peaceful and healing powerplay permitted / / underline and tag when attacking ↛ see battle info here
  ⭃ penned by solaire ↛ @funeralscythe on discord, feel free to ping for plots.

​

 

[Pikemaw]

(WIP Reply, on mobile and can't be bothered to code rn)

Pikepaw's ears had perked up instantly at the news of Reedfang's death, only managing to remain outwardly composed due to his many moons of practice in hiding his emotions. All he'd wanted to do was grin and dance on the bastard's grave. Assuming Hemlockpaw would feel the same, he'd politely excused himself from the other apprentices to go find his only true friend, half-hoping that he might be lucky enough to break the news and get to see Hemlockpaw's true feelings rather than the mask of grief he'd otherwise be forced to wear. Pikepaw always enjoyed being 'special', and what could be more special than being permitted to hoard Hemlockpaw's secrets close to his chest?

He frowned slightly in confusion as he asked after Hemlockpaw and received the news that he'd been the one to witness Reedfang's death, 'the poor dear'. Feeling the first stirrings of suspicion, Pikepaw politely thanked the warriors and slunk out of camp, making sure he wasn't followed before trotting off to the beech copse. There were many places Hemlockpaw could have hidden, but his gut told him that the beech copse was the place to go, and who was he to argue?

Pikepaw was pleased to see that his intuition was correct, but bewildered to find Hemlockpaw so obviously distressed. What reason could he possibly have to grieve his detestable, pitiful excuse for a father? Trodding purposefully on a stick to alert his friend to his presence, his vague suspicions were solidified by Hemlockpaw's odd question. Ah, so that was what had happened… Well, hopefully his fellow apprentice was clever enough to cover his tracks.

"Of course not," Pikepaw murmured as he slid out of the shadows with all the grace of an eel, his orange eyes piercing and unsettling in their intensity. "Why would you be in trouble? After all, it was merely a… tragic accident… that caused Reedfang to fall to his death… Was it not?"