Frostpaw could hardly believe it, she was so stunned, honestly and truly she nor any of her other clanmates could quite swallow the truth. It was a hard and jagged lump of anguish, scraping at the inner walls of their throat and chest, leaving them bleeding and ragged with pain.
Everyone was mourning in the wake of Snowstar's disappearance, but none more so than her immediate family- of which Frostpaw was not of. Yet even still she felt the sting of Snowstar's suddenly vanishing. No one understood what had happened, nor where she had gone, but it was as if she merely ceased to exist.
Sometime soon their deputy, Coppercloud- of whom was shocked to his core- would make his trip for his nine lives. The shift in ranks was one Riverclan had seen many a time before, but it was a rarity that it was this shocking. The final death of a Leader was something they were well adjusted to, but when a Leader vanished without a trace? That was far more distressing, because it left them without answers and without closure and without a last goodbye.
Frostpaw decided that she need to distract herself from her thoughts, she padded through the clearing, aiming for the fresh-kill pile. Having an empty belly coupled with such dark thoughts was a combination for disaster. She would surely just make her belly ache and have to take a trip to the Medicine Cat's den if she continued trailing after her thoughts.
As she made her way forward, she caught the faintest flicker of movement out of the corner of her baby-blue eyes, and she stopped in her tracks to take a glance over in the direction of the motion. That's when she spotted Sleetpaw, one of Snowstar's sons. He was a cat that Frostpaw didn't much care for, not after how their interactions unfolded in kit-hood. However, she couldn't help but feel her heart sink to her stomach upon further inspection of him.
He appeared to be sulking far off from his clanmates. No clanmate deserved to be alone in their sorrows, even if it was one that she didn't particularly get along with. She briskly stalked over to the fresh-kill pile and grabbed up a two decently sized fish. One for her and one for Sleetpaw if he should accept it. If he rejected the offer, then Frostpaw would just return the fish or take it to a queen or an elder.
She turned away from the fresh-kill pile and closed the distance between herself and Sleetpaw, and unceremoniously dropped a fish right at his paws. Before she placed her own fish next to her own paws and plopped down onto her haunches and curled her fluffy tail around herself.
"You look like something the Warriors dragged in, Sleetpaw. You should eat something and clean yourself up. You won't be doing yourself any good by moping around with an empty belly, you'll just make yourself sick." Frostpaw stated, rather bluntly, but there was an undercurrent of compassion within her voice that softened her tone.
In the time since his mother's disappearance, Sleetpaw had kept to himself and his family. He had comforted them when they needed it, and had been proud to ensure they weren't spiralling as much as he felt he was inside. His paws felt numb with how much he had paced in the clearing, and his body ached from the lack of sleep. Every moment he had stayed awake hoping that Snowstar would change her mind and come back.
So preoccupied with his thoughts, the tom didn't even notice Frostpaw approaching him until she was standing next to him. When she stopped, his chest fur bristled visibly with his discomfort, and he forced it to lie flat again.
"You would look like that too if she was your mother, not just the clan leader." He responded tartly, fixing her with a glare. He glanced down, seeing the fish she had dropped for him and tried to ignore how his mouth watered. He cringed a little at his words, flattening his ears. He should have a little humility... she was only trying to help.
"Sorry..." He mumbled. Whatever disagreements they had as kits was long forgotten, he had matured since those times. "...Thanks, Frostpaw." He ducked his head with embarassment, taking a couple tiny bites into the fish, trying to ignore how his stomach churned at the feeling of food entering it.