Blood and Tears

Songbirds sang high in the trees, though the NightClan camp below was dark and quiet. Under the thick trees almost no light from the rising sun touched the ground.

Meanwhile outside the camp, lithe dark shapes made their way through the still forest. Their claws gleamed in the early morning sun. They made no sound as they twisted through the thick undergrowth.

Near the entrance the gang of cats suddenly stopped and crouched low to the ground. A single warrior sat outside the small tunnel into camp. It's head swivelled over to the group of shapes hidden in the darkness. The guard blinked once then turned away.

One of the many cats made a small signal with its tail. On command two felines shapes broke away from the group. They stalked forward undetected by the warrior.

Then they leapt onto the guard and pinned him to the ground. With one swift movement, a cat racked it's claws down the warrior's throat. The guard fell still but not before a warning escaped it's mouth.

...

Dustpaw woke to a high pitched screech echoing around the clearing. Her fur stood on end from the pure fear in the cry. The other apprentices began to stir as well, blinking the drowsiness from their eyes.

She crept forward to the entrance to the den and gasped at what she saw outside. Many feline shapes were making their way into the camp. Each one not making a sound as they entered. And each one with an orange pelt that glowed like fire.

Dustpaw closed her eyes and tasted the air. None of these cats were familiar and all of them smelled of blood.

She silently thanked the black fur her clan was blessed with, as she slithered out of the den unnoticed.

Dustpaw could see the slight shine of her clan mate's eyes in the brightening light. She knew not to worry, the warriors of the clan knew of the danger and were making a plan of attack.

She continued to make her way to the nursery next to the camp entrance, knowing the kits had to be protected from danger. Dustpaw reached the entrance when her eyes caught sight of a familiar black pelt laying limp at the tunnel.

Her eyes widened at the sight of her dead mentor. Patchfoot's mouth was parted in a silent yowl and she realized with a sense of dread that this was the screech that had woken her.

Patchfoot's single white paw was drenched in blood from the open wound on his neck. Dustpelt found herself frozen on sight. How could Patchfoot be dead?

Then a flicker of movement drew her gaze back to the invading cats. There was so many, easily outnumbering her own clan. But Dustpaw didn't care, her only thought was avenging her dead mentor.

With a screech of fury she lunged at the nearest warrior, biting viciously into his leg. He yowled in pain then shook her off. Dustpaw landed on her feet and spun around charging right back at her opponent. He hissed at her and swept his paw at her head, claws unsheathed. She dodged and jumped onto his back.

Loss clouded her vision and Dustpaw was barely conscious of battling cats filling the clearing. Suddenly the tom she was wrestling flipped over and she was crushed under the greater weight.

The large warrior turned, his orange pelt glowing in the morning light. Dustpaw scrambled to her feet and dodged out of the way as the tom lunged at her. He skidded back and whipped around to face her, darting out a paw and slicing his claws down her face.

Dustpaw screeched in pain and lashed out at him. He growled as the blow cut into his flank. The warrior lunged forward and bit into Dustpaw's scruff. He lifted her up and flung her against the large boulders that lined one side of camp. She fell stunned for a moment, but it was a moment too long. The tom was on her, lashing out viciously with his claws.

Dustpaw felt the thorn sharp tips rip through her ear and down her pelt. She screeched and lashed out blindly at the enemy, but the attacks kept coming. She felt blood soaking her fur and her vision began to dim.

Dustpaw's body went limp, scarlet liquid pooling at her paws. She opened her eyes into small slits and watched as the final blow came straight for her throat.

"Stop." Commanded a voice. The claws hesitated, a heartbeat from killing her. The voice spoke again. "Leave her. Kill the others."

Dustpaw watched the orange pelt retreat. A final thought came into her mind. I should have become a warrior tonight. Why did this happen now? The one moment in my life that truly mattered.

...

The invading cats stared with satisfaction at the destruction they had caused. Bodies of dead cats lay limp, scattered throughout the camp. The dens had been destroyed, ripped to shreds to ensure no cats were still hiding.

One large tom stood at the highest point on the boulders, looking over the damage. "Are you sure she is the one?" Asked a younger tom, padding up to him. "She was so weak."

"Positive." Replied the older one. He turned to the other cat, his eyes like shards of ice. "You have been my apprentice since we destroyed our home clan. You of all cats, should know not to question me."

"Yes Bloodfang." Muttered the smaller tom. He was about to leave but hesitated. "What I was really wondering, was if you could tell me the real reason we've been leaving a survivor."

"You already know what you need to know." Growled Bloodfang.

"I know but-" The younger cat protested.

"I not telling you for one simple reason, I don't trust you, Risingscar." Then his eyes narrowed. "However, if you really want to know, you can ask Emberstar. But you know the risk."

Risingscar bowed his head. "Yes Bloodfang." He turned and stalked away. He wanted badly to know the answer, but if he was too nosy, he would suffer the one risk of talking to Emberstar. Risingscar shook his head, the risk was too grate. It was the risk of dying.

Bloodfang watched his apprentice walk away with his head still down. His apprentice was simply too nosy. Maybe it would be better to tell him, so he would stop asking questions. No. Answers will not stop him from wanting more information.

Their leader and even more warriors were in their home clan's territory. If they finished their mission, or Risingscar was finally ready to lead the rest of the warrios, Bloodfang could return to his leader.

But right now Risingscar couldn't be trusted. Bloodfang made a mental note to start looking for another apprentice. At least their mission was over halfway done. Only six more clans left to kill.