Post by 𝓣𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓵 on Dec 1, 2022 14:25:37 GMT -5
So, because I enjoy a good mystery, I thought it'd be fun to compile scenes from each potential suspect who may have been involved in Reedwhisker's possible murder, one-by-one (I'd do it all at once since it was probably a group effort, but I don't want to mess up with the formatting again, so one-by-one it is).
But first, let's focus on the victim. This is the state Reedwhisker's body is found in:
Which brings us to our first suspect: Curlfeather.
The two get chased by dogs not long after and these are Curlfeather's final words to her daughter.
Regardless of her being directly involved in Reedwhisker's death or not, it seems pretty clear that she knew something. But would that something extend to murder? What do you think?
But first, let's focus on the victim. This is the state Reedwhisker's body is found in:
Finally Frostpaw made it to the bottom of the rocks and padded up to Reedwhisker’s body. The black tom was lying with his limbs splayed out; his eyes were filmed over and his teeth set as if he were growling at an enemy. When Frostpaw stretched out a tentative paw and touched his shoulder, he was stiff and cold.
[...]
Frostpaw looked more closely, and saw several
scratches running the length of Reedwhisker’s spine, where the fur had been torn away to expose the flesh beneath. The scrapes had bled, though the blood was dry now.
[...]
Frostpaw looked more closely, and saw several
scratches running the length of Reedwhisker’s spine, where the fur had been torn away to expose the flesh beneath. The scrapes had bled, though the blood was dry now.
Which brings us to our first suspect: Curlfeather.
“Stand still,” Curlfeather mewed. Her tongue
rasped over Frostpaw’s light gray pelt in long, skillful strokes. “You know you have to look especially clean and neat. This is a very important day.”
Frostpaw did as her mother told her, though she
felt as though her belly were filled with butterflies. So much excitement was thrilling through her that she wanted to leap and squeal and chase her own tail.
But I can’t behave like that anymore, she told
herself. I’m not a kit anymore; by the end of the
day, I’ll officially be a medicine-cat apprentice!
For the last quarter moon Frostpaw had been
helping Mothwing in the medicine-cat den, and now she was ready to make her first trip to the Moonpool for the half-moon meeting. There she would meet the other medicine cats, the ones from other Clans, and have her apprentice ceremony.
“I can’t wait!” she exclaimed, unable to suppress a
wriggle of anticipation. “But I’m kind of scared, too.”
“Nonsense, you’ll be fine,” Curlfeather responded, brushing her tail along Frostpaw’s side. “Haven’t we always known that you’re special? Hasn’t StarClan chosen you to be a medicine cat for RiverClan?”
“Do you think they really have?” Frostpaw breathed out.
“Of course they have. Remember how you
dreamed about Jayclaw leaving you alone in camp? And then he died a few days later?” Curlfeather’s voice softened for a moment as she spoke about her mate, Frostpaw’s father. Frostpaw ducked her head. She’d been too young when Jayclaw died to remember much about her father, but sometimes she wondered how her life might be different if he had lived. Would her mother be so protective of Frostpaw and her littermates?
A heartbeat later Curlfeather went on more briskly, “You predicted that thunderstorm only a few days ago. And you’ve been working hard with Mothwing in her den the last few days, learning all about herbs and healing. You even took that thorn out of Podlight’s pad. Of course you’re going to be a fine medicine cat.”
Grateful for the reassurance, Frostpaw leaned into her mother’s soft brown fur, a purr rising in her throat. Curlfeather’s such a great cat. If she thinks I can do it, I know I’ll be okay.
rasped over Frostpaw’s light gray pelt in long, skillful strokes. “You know you have to look especially clean and neat. This is a very important day.”
Frostpaw did as her mother told her, though she
felt as though her belly were filled with butterflies. So much excitement was thrilling through her that she wanted to leap and squeal and chase her own tail.
But I can’t behave like that anymore, she told
herself. I’m not a kit anymore; by the end of the
day, I’ll officially be a medicine-cat apprentice!
For the last quarter moon Frostpaw had been
helping Mothwing in the medicine-cat den, and now she was ready to make her first trip to the Moonpool for the half-moon meeting. There she would meet the other medicine cats, the ones from other Clans, and have her apprentice ceremony.
“I can’t wait!” she exclaimed, unable to suppress a
wriggle of anticipation. “But I’m kind of scared, too.”
“Nonsense, you’ll be fine,” Curlfeather responded, brushing her tail along Frostpaw’s side. “Haven’t we always known that you’re special? Hasn’t StarClan chosen you to be a medicine cat for RiverClan?”
“Do you think they really have?” Frostpaw breathed out.
“Of course they have. Remember how you
dreamed about Jayclaw leaving you alone in camp? And then he died a few days later?” Curlfeather’s voice softened for a moment as she spoke about her mate, Frostpaw’s father. Frostpaw ducked her head. She’d been too young when Jayclaw died to remember much about her father, but sometimes she wondered how her life might be different if he had lived. Would her mother be so protective of Frostpaw and her littermates?
A heartbeat later Curlfeather went on more briskly, “You predicted that thunderstorm only a few days ago. And you’ve been working hard with Mothwing in her den the last few days, learning all about herbs and healing. You even took that thorn out of Podlight’s pad. Of course you’re going to be a fine medicine cat.”
Grateful for the reassurance, Frostpaw leaned into her mother’s soft brown fur, a purr rising in her throat. Curlfeather’s such a great cat. If she thinks I can do it, I know I’ll be okay.
Frostpaw crouched outside the warriors’ den, sharing a vole with her mother, Curlfeather. A stiff breeze was blowing across the RiverClan camp, sending puffs of white cloud scudding across the sky. The air was filled with the scent of water and the soft gurgling of the streams that surrounded the camp.
“I was so proud of you last night,” Curlfeather mewed between bites. “My daughter, a real medicine cat! All the Clans were cheering for you.”
“It was a little scary,” Frostpaw confessed.
“Nonsense!” Curlfeather’s tone was bracing. “You deserved it.”
Frostpaw didn’t reply, just tucked into her vole. She knew that her mother didn’t like it when she seemed nervous about her new place in the Clan. She expects so much of me, she thought. I hope I can make her proud.
While they were eating, Reedwhisker emerged
from the warriors’ den and bounded over to the group of warriors lounging around the fresh-kill pile. “Hunting patrol,” he announced cheerfully. “Fognose, Podlight, Splashtail, you’re with me.”
The cats he had named rose to their paws and
headed toward the camp entrance.
“Curlfeather, I’ll take you, too,” Reedwhisker added as he passed the spot where Frostpaw and her
mother were eating together.
“Okay.” Curlfeather took a last bite of vole and
rose to her paws, swiping her tongue around her jaws. “Lead on, Reedwhisker.”
Frostpaw watched her mother as she joined the
patrol, and didn’t realize that Mothwing had padded up to join her until the medicine cat spoke.
“Why do I have to come looking for you?” she
asked. “You shouldn’t be dawdling over your prey
.when there could be cats in our den who need
healing.”
“I wasn’t—” Frostpaw began to defend herself.
“Mothwing is right,” Curlfeather turned back to
interrupt. “Off you go. Your skills are important, and your Clan needs you!”
“I was so proud of you last night,” Curlfeather mewed between bites. “My daughter, a real medicine cat! All the Clans were cheering for you.”
“It was a little scary,” Frostpaw confessed.
“Nonsense!” Curlfeather’s tone was bracing. “You deserved it.”
Frostpaw didn’t reply, just tucked into her vole. She knew that her mother didn’t like it when she seemed nervous about her new place in the Clan. She expects so much of me, she thought. I hope I can make her proud.
While they were eating, Reedwhisker emerged
from the warriors’ den and bounded over to the group of warriors lounging around the fresh-kill pile. “Hunting patrol,” he announced cheerfully. “Fognose, Podlight, Splashtail, you’re with me.”
The cats he had named rose to their paws and
headed toward the camp entrance.
“Curlfeather, I’ll take you, too,” Reedwhisker added as he passed the spot where Frostpaw and her
mother were eating together.
“Okay.” Curlfeather took a last bite of vole and
rose to her paws, swiping her tongue around her jaws. “Lead on, Reedwhisker.”
Frostpaw watched her mother as she joined the
patrol, and didn’t realize that Mothwing had padded up to join her until the medicine cat spoke.
“Why do I have to come looking for you?” she
asked. “You shouldn’t be dawdling over your prey
.when there could be cats in our den who need
healing.”
“I wasn’t—” Frostpaw began to defend herself.
“Mothwing is right,” Curlfeather turned back to
interrupt. “Off you go. Your skills are important, and your Clan needs you!”
The mingled scents of cats and prey announced the return of the hunting party. A buzz of excitement and apprehension ran through the assembled cats, as if a swarm of bees had suddenly descended on the clearing. Frostpaw watched as the warriors straggled in through the clumps of hazel and bramble that surrounded the camp. Podlight was in the lead, followed by Fognose, Splashtail, and then Curlfeather. Frostpaw waited a few heartbeats, expecting to see Reedwhisker bringing up the rear, but he didn’t appear. The other four cats were dragging in an enormous amount of prey, but the Clan deputy wasn’t with them.
Finally Mothwing interrupted. “About Reedwhisker. . . He’s needed urgently. He will need to go to the Moonpool soon, to claim his nine lives and become Reedstar.”
Podlight shook his head in bewilderment. “I don’t know where he went. We lost track of him; I thought he’d just wandered off, chasing a rabbit or something.”
“That’s right,” Curlfeather meowed. “We tried looking for him—we followed his scent trail, but there was rain last night, and the ground is too wet to hold a scent. In the end we thought he would be waiting for us back here in camp.”
Podlight shook his head in bewilderment. “I don’t know where he went. We lost track of him; I thought he’d just wandered off, chasing a rabbit or something.”
“That’s right,” Curlfeather meowed. “We tried looking for him—we followed his scent trail, but there was rain last night, and the ground is too wet to hold a scent. In the end we thought he would be waiting for us back here in camp.”
“Mothwing, are you going to choose the search
parties?” Curlfeather asked.
For a moment Mothwing hesitated. Frostpaw saw
her glancing around, and suddenly realized that there was no obvious cat who should make the decision.
Was it Mothwing’s place as a medicine cat to do that, or should it be a senior warrior?
Then the golden tabby she-cat gave her pelt a
shake. “Yes, thank you, Curlfeather. Owlnose,
Havenpelt, Lizardtail, you can lead. Take whichever cats you want with you. Podlight, you and your patrol don’t need to go out again, but organize a guard here, in case there’s trouble we don’t know about.”
“We’ll make sure the camp is safe,” Curlfeather
promised.
parties?” Curlfeather asked.
For a moment Mothwing hesitated. Frostpaw saw
her glancing around, and suddenly realized that there was no obvious cat who should make the decision.
Was it Mothwing’s place as a medicine cat to do that, or should it be a senior warrior?
Then the golden tabby she-cat gave her pelt a
shake. “Yes, thank you, Curlfeather. Owlnose,
Havenpelt, Lizardtail, you can lead. Take whichever cats you want with you. Podlight, you and your patrol don’t need to go out again, but organize a guard here, in case there’s trouble we don’t know about.”
“We’ll make sure the camp is safe,” Curlfeather
promised.
“Well, some cat has to take responsibility for now,” Curlfeather asserted, with a glance around her as if she was wondering which cat might be suitable.
[...]
Meanwhile, every cat had turned their head to look at Mothwing. So far she had said nothing, sitting with her paws tucked under her and her amber eyes flicking from one speaker to the next. “Shimmerpelt is right,” she meowed, blinking slowly. “Besides, leading a Clan is not the role of a medicine cat.”
[...]
“Maybe one day Frostpaw could,” Curlfeather declared, “but for now I think it’s best that one of our senior warriors take it on.”
[...]
Meanwhile, every cat had turned their head to look at Mothwing. So far she had said nothing, sitting with her paws tucked under her and her amber eyes flicking from one speaker to the next. “Shimmerpelt is right,” she meowed, blinking slowly. “Besides, leading a Clan is not the role of a medicine cat.”
[...]
“Maybe one day Frostpaw could,” Curlfeather declared, “but for now I think it’s best that one of our senior warriors take it on.”
When she returned to the clearing, the argument was still going on, but Curlfeather spotted her as she approached, and rose to her paws. “What do you have there?” she asked.
Frostpaw made her way to her mentor’s side and dropped the leaf. “I found this in my nest,” she explained. “It wasn’t there before.”
“It looks like a star,” some cat murmured.
“Could it be . . . ?”
“Maybe it’s a sign.”
“Could this mean that StarClan is letting us know
we haven’t been abandoned?” Curlfeather asked,
fixing Mothwing with a pointed stare. “Could it be a sign that we’re on the right track?”
“Yes, and that StarClan wants our medicine cats to take on more responsibility,” Havenpelt agreed. “That they should collaborate with our senior warriors until we have a StarClan-approved leader.”
Mothwing clearly disapproved of Curlfeather’s and
Havenpelt’s words, and of the murmurs of agreement that came from their Clanmates. “I really don’t want the responsibility,” she grumbled, “and in any case, I wouldn’t be StarClan’s first choice for leader, would I? And I’m more comfortable healing than leading.”
“That may be true,” Curlfeather meowed. “But we
need some sort of arrangement until we find
Reedwhisker.”
Frostpaw made her way to her mentor’s side and dropped the leaf. “I found this in my nest,” she explained. “It wasn’t there before.”
“It looks like a star,” some cat murmured.
“Could it be . . . ?”
“Maybe it’s a sign.”
“Could this mean that StarClan is letting us know
we haven’t been abandoned?” Curlfeather asked,
fixing Mothwing with a pointed stare. “Could it be a sign that we’re on the right track?”
“Yes, and that StarClan wants our medicine cats to take on more responsibility,” Havenpelt agreed. “That they should collaborate with our senior warriors until we have a StarClan-approved leader.”
Mothwing clearly disapproved of Curlfeather’s and
Havenpelt’s words, and of the murmurs of agreement that came from their Clanmates. “I really don’t want the responsibility,” she grumbled, “and in any case, I wouldn’t be StarClan’s first choice for leader, would I? And I’m more comfortable healing than leading.”
“That may be true,” Curlfeather meowed. “But we
need some sort of arrangement until we find
Reedwhisker.”
“I’m just afraid that the Clan is asking too much of me,” Frostpaw confessed. “I don’t know enough! I can’t be a leader—I can’t even give Mothwing the help she needs.”
“You don’t have to worry,” her mother murmured, giving her ear an affectionate lick. “If it ever comes to it, that you have to take on leadership as well as your medicine-cat duties, you know that I’ll always be here to help.”
“You don’t have to worry,” her mother murmured, giving her ear an affectionate lick. “If it ever comes to it, that you have to take on leadership as well as your medicine-cat duties, you know that I’ll always be here to help.”
“I wonder if Twolegs could have taken
Reedwhisker,” she suggested to her mother as they turned toward the greenleaf Twolegplace.
Curlfeather gave her whiskers a thoughtful twitch.
“I’ve heard of that happening,” she responded. “Does it fit with what you saw in your vision?”
[...]
The white tom was standing at the top of a tumble of rocks. When the stream was flowing, they would have formed a waterfall. He was staring downward; panting up to his side, Frostpaw followed his gaze. Stretched out at the bottom of the rocks was
Reedwhisker’s body.
“Oh, no!” Curlfeather exclaimed, her voice full of
distress. “He is dead! I just knew it!”
[...]
“If only I’d had my vision sooner,” she mewed, a
hot wave of guilt washing over her. “Then we might have been in time to save him.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Curlfeather responded
briskly. “There’s nothing any cat could have done. It looks as if the fall killed him.”
[...]
A moment later Curlfeather was beside her,
brushing her tail over Frostpaw’s shoulder and giving her ear a comforting lick. “I’m sorry you have to see that,” she sighed, then added, “Look at those scrapes along his back. That’s where he must have hit the sharp rocks as he fell.”
[...]
“That looks almost like a badger’s claws,” she mused.
“Nonsense, that’s nothing like a badger,”
Curlfeather meowed. “The fall must have killed him. We should bring him back to his Clan.”
Reedwhisker,” she suggested to her mother as they turned toward the greenleaf Twolegplace.
Curlfeather gave her whiskers a thoughtful twitch.
“I’ve heard of that happening,” she responded. “Does it fit with what you saw in your vision?”
[...]
The white tom was standing at the top of a tumble of rocks. When the stream was flowing, they would have formed a waterfall. He was staring downward; panting up to his side, Frostpaw followed his gaze. Stretched out at the bottom of the rocks was
Reedwhisker’s body.
“Oh, no!” Curlfeather exclaimed, her voice full of
distress. “He is dead! I just knew it!”
[...]
“If only I’d had my vision sooner,” she mewed, a
hot wave of guilt washing over her. “Then we might have been in time to save him.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Curlfeather responded
briskly. “There’s nothing any cat could have done. It looks as if the fall killed him.”
[...]
A moment later Curlfeather was beside her,
brushing her tail over Frostpaw’s shoulder and giving her ear a comforting lick. “I’m sorry you have to see that,” she sighed, then added, “Look at those scrapes along his back. That’s where he must have hit the sharp rocks as he fell.”
[...]
“That looks almost like a badger’s claws,” she mused.
“Nonsense, that’s nothing like a badger,”
Curlfeather meowed. “The fall must have killed him. We should bring him back to his Clan.”
For a few heartbeats the Clan stood in silence, as
if they needed time to take in what Frostpaw had just told them. Meanwhile Curlfeather turned a shocked look on her, one that gradually changed to an expression of pleasure and pride.
“Me?” she asked. “Really, me? Oh, thank you,
Frostpaw. I swear by StarClan that I will do my best to be a true leader of this Clan.”
if they needed time to take in what Frostpaw had just told them. Meanwhile Curlfeather turned a shocked look on her, one that gradually changed to an expression of pleasure and pride.
“Me?” she asked. “Really, me? Oh, thank you,
Frostpaw. I swear by StarClan that I will do my best to be a true leader of this Clan.”
Curlfeather flicked Frostpaw’s shoulder affectionately with her tail. “The rest of the Clan seems happy about it,” she mewed. “And you didn’t choose me because I’m your mother, did you?”
“No!” Frostpaw stared at her in shock. “I wouldn’t do that! I really did see a curled feather beside the Moonpool, and have the dream. I wouldn’t lie to my Clan.”
“Of course not,” Curlfeather purred, seeming satisfied by Frostpaw’s answer. “And I promise you that I’ll do my best for the Clan, from today right to the end of my nine lives. I just wish that you seemed happier about it. If you saw the feather . . .”
“I did—but my decision was based on how I interpreted that feather.”
Frostpaw couldn’t share her
mother’s confidence. “How can I be sure that I was right?”
“You should trust yourself more.” Curlfeather’s
voice was bracing. “Your decision was based on more than that feather. It was your connection to StarClan that showed you the sign and helped you realize what it meant. And it was StarClan who sent you the dream.”
“I suppose you’re right, but—”
“If you need proof,” Curlfeather interrupted, “I’m
sure you’ll feel calmer once I receive my nine lives
from StarClan.”
“No!” Frostpaw stared at her in shock. “I wouldn’t do that! I really did see a curled feather beside the Moonpool, and have the dream. I wouldn’t lie to my Clan.”
“Of course not,” Curlfeather purred, seeming satisfied by Frostpaw’s answer. “And I promise you that I’ll do my best for the Clan, from today right to the end of my nine lives. I just wish that you seemed happier about it. If you saw the feather . . .”
“I did—but my decision was based on how I interpreted that feather.”
Frostpaw couldn’t share her
mother’s confidence. “How can I be sure that I was right?”
“You should trust yourself more.” Curlfeather’s
voice was bracing. “Your decision was based on more than that feather. It was your connection to StarClan that showed you the sign and helped you realize what it meant. And it was StarClan who sent you the dream.”
“I suppose you’re right, but—”
“If you need proof,” Curlfeather interrupted, “I’m
sure you’ll feel calmer once I receive my nine lives
from StarClan.”
The two get chased by dogs not long after and these are Curlfeather's final words to her daughter.
Curlfeather was staring up at her, her eyes welling with love and emotion. “Keep RiverClan safe!” Her voice rose into a screech of agony. “And trust no cat!”
Regardless of her being directly involved in Reedwhisker's death or not, it seems pretty clear that she knew something. But would that something extend to murder? What do you think?
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