Death and Defeat [P9]

The fog hung heavily in the crisp night air, and Reedheart was staring off into the distance. He suppressed a shiver as snow began to pile around him. Last night ShadowClan had come to them to keep their defenseless members safe. Now it was the second night, and Reedheart was worried. Did they fight the Deomilites off? Reedheart tried his best to calm himself and stay hopeful. Perhaps they were just resting and dressing their wounds. They had trusted RiverClan enough to keep their cats. A hopeful smile grew on his face and he stared out into the cold ears pricked. Perhaps they'd come tonight. Then Reedheart could have some peace of mind.

Peace of mind? Froststar had began to forget what that was. She hadn't had a full nights sleep in about a moon- she had been so unsettled even before she had found out of the rogues. Now she was pacing back in forth in her den, a half eaten fish forgotten at her side. Oh, ShadowClan. Please be safe. Sagestar, please be safe- wait. Why am I singling him out? Oh, quiet Froststar. They'll all be fine.
The calico suddenly decided that sleep most definitely was important, if she had begun to talk to herself. She sat down for a moment, thoughts running wild in her head. She was so busy these days- she needed to hunt more, train more, prepare for the approaching doom that would swallow them all in a matter of days- needless to say, Froststar wasn't having her best week. She finally gave up and trotted outside with shaky steps. Now she was able to pace in a larger area- how nice. She cast a glance at her warrior every now and then, before returning to her very important task. That is, until she caught the sent of mud and frogs wafting towards her. Could it simply be the ShadowClan kits and elders confusing her, or something else? Something darker? She prayed for the former, but knew never to except the best.

Shadows appeared in the fog, the pounding of paws echoed through the eerie night. The ShadowClan cats, wounded, and tired, made their way to the camp, carrying the body of Sagestar, who was still carried, by Nightwing and Gingerheart, Fresh cobwebs, hastily slapped onto the wounds at the Fourtrees, to stop the bleeding until the worn ragged group made it to safety. Nightwing and Gingerheart were the first to break though the dense fog followed by the other warriors, apprentice, and medicine cats. Looking up, Nightwing spotted Froststar and a warrior sitting at the entrance as if expecting them to come. The weight of Sagestar was almost unbearable, her wounds stung, and her mind was fuzzy. Taking the last few steps to Froststar, so she was a fox's length away from her. Letting her mentor slip gently to the ground, Nightwing sat, her eyes bright with responsibility, and with pain, that was clear for any cat to see. Only the best at telling feelings could tell that Nightwing's fear was about to overwhelm her. Will RiverClan take care of the warriors as well? “We lost... Gravely." She looked down at Sagestar, then back up.

As the Shadowclan cats padded into camp, the young she-cat silently placed her leader on the ground at the same time Nightwing did in order to make sure that Sagestar wouldn't be hurt any further. It was rather surprising that he didn't wake up on the journey back considering it was a long way, but it only worried Gingerheart more. Could he really be dead? Stifling a heavy sigh to keep the tears (what tears cats have) away, she immediately sat down next to Sagestar and wrapped her tail around her paws while she tried to lick her pelt clean of the melted snow and blood that had clung to her fur. She was hardly cold, but the water was weighing her down greatly.

"We could have stayed and fought. We could have won..." She muttered between licks before she finally stopped and just turned her head away from the gathering crowd. She was too angry to deal with anyone at the moment and she surely wasn't going to listen to how they were defeated. Although, unfortunately, the sight and feeling of being in Riverclan camp-- or the territory at all-- was a painful reminder of what they had lost.

Froststar looked up from one end of camp before she rushed forward. "No..." She murmured in shock, shaking her head. "How can we ever defeat them?" She whispered to herself, slowly losing all hope. If ShadowClan, strong and healthy, couldn't defeat the rogues, then who could? She prayed RiverClan would be able- wait, who was that? That limp body, right there? Yeah, the one covered in blood. Froststar's breath caught in her throat. Suddenly, she was under siege with powerful emotions, tearing at her heart. She had felt this feeling before, only once. The feeling of every emotion at once taking over, driving you insane and breaking you down till all that was left was a broken heart and memories, millions of memories. Why did he pull such reactions from her? She dragged in a shaky breath and moved forward without thinking, burying her muzzle into his fur. She honestly didn't care if anybody stared- she was lost in a river of emotion. For the longest time she didn't move. She knew she should be acting like a leader- strong and in charge, not showing weakness nor emotion. Calm and collected. Like her father showed her. But now she was too broken up to breathe. This was her childhood friend- this was Sagestar. He had lost- ShadowClan had lost. She was without whatever hope she had mustered up, and as the snow feel she tried to feel warmth radiation off of the body in front of her, but there was none there. She knew he would be back- at least, she prayed to StarClan for that to be so. They couldn't take him away from her-- right?

"Don't leave me..." She murmured under her breath, not expecting anyone to hear. She doubted he himself would. "No, you know what? You can't go. I forbid it." She breathed, her voice strong but quiet, as if there was no arguing. Yes. She wouldn't allow him to die. She hated to admit it, but she cared for him. StarClan wouldn't take him- she would fight them if they tried. But she knew he would come back; whether from pure stubbornness or the simple knowledge that he probably had a few more lives up his sleeves. (because cats have sleeves now) So she gathered up her strength and did her best to hide away any weakness.

Clearing her throat, she stepped back and looked around, catching Nightwing's eyes. She quickly got her act together, her facade once again gaining strength. "I'm sorry to hear that, Nightwing. You're welcome to stay in RiverClan for as long as you need. I believe ShadowClan would do the same if we were ever in trouble." She replied, grief hidden from her voice. Though it was easy to see that she was at least a bit affected by Sagestar's death. She dipped her head respectively towards the deputy, casting glances at the body. Shouldn't he be awake by now? ... No. No doubt. He'd make it, she believed that wholeheartedly.

Reedheart cast Froststar a doubtful pointed glance before turning to the beaten ShadowClan cats with sympathetic eyes. Their injured state made his heart lurch and he stepped forward, beside his leader. "Morningfur will take a look at all of you." he mewed reassuringly, wishing he could say more. Reedheart's eyes slowly moved over the bloody body of Sagestar. Froststar's reaction was strange... Perhaps they were friends, outside their Clan rivalries.

Forcing a weak smile, Reedheart looked to Nightwing and promised to himself to hunt for these cats in the morning. He somehow doubted that they'd like fish or be able to hunt in RiverClan territory without guidance. "I can show you the dens, if you'd like..." he mewed, flicking his tail towards the back of camp. They were all similar crude looking constructions. Skinny sticks leaned against each other, with reed and sedge stuffed in between them. Shells from the river bank gleamed in the dying light.

Nightwing gave Gingerheart a warning glance. If she hadn't have called retreat, they would have all been dead. What would have been of ShadowClan then? She watched Froststar stuck her nose into Sagestar's pelt, like it deeply influinced her, like she had the deepest respect for Sagestar. Which Nightwing wouldn't have doubted. Meeting Froststar's gaze evenly, she nodded with thanks. "We would do the same for RiverClan." Rising to her paws, she glanced around. "Where is the medicine cat den? We can have out medicine cats help as well." She glanced back at Softwhisker with a meaningful glance. Morningfur couldn't take care of all of Shadowclan all on her lonesome. Turning back to the warrior, was his name Reedheart? "I think we should clean our wounds first, then you could show them, Thank you."

Fallenpaw padded uneasily, remaining a little farther in the back of the crowd, as not to see her leader's limp body being carried between her clanmates. She felt herself shiver, water clinging to her pelt from the trek into RiverClan. The light gray apprentice felt so confused, tired, hungry - but most of all, she felt defeated. It was a new experience. She always thought she would have some fight left in her, something to keep her going, but today she was hindered by nothing but the lost feeling dragging at her paws, with the stinging of her wounds keeping her in consciousness. She pictured Anna, the pale ginger she-cat's expression as she announced Sagestar's death, her triumph, and Fallenpaw's own shock. The sudden knowledge that her clan leader had been defeated by the rogues had not yet faded.

She looked ahead with weary eyes, glancing between the RiverClan leader and her mentor. Sagestar couldn't be dead, could he? She didn't feel like she had the energy to think about it. But Nightwing would help them while Sagestar recovered, she assured herself. Fallenpaw could only drag herself - one deadened paw after the other - all the way, and, usually, she was not imagining anything in her mind, as she usually tended to do, but instead she was focused on here and now, and when she could get off her weary paws.

Even as she strained to listen to the RiverClan leader, announcing their hospitality, she still could not believe that ShadowClan - her clan, the toughest one she knew - had lost.

Midnightkit, awoken by the sounds of voices and the intense smell of her clan, a scent she had missed, padded slowly out of the riverclans nursery. Her eyes were wide as can be as she stared at the mess of Shadowclan cats, beaten and wounded. Her eyes flickered down at Sagestar and she bit back a whimper. She stayed where she was an laid down, her eyes filled with sorrow as they stared upon her clan members.

Rustfang's head hung low as the trudged through RiverClan. He was at the back of the end of ShadowClan cats, his heart sunk. ShadowClan had lost. And Sagestar was dead.
But that wasn't his last life..Right? He hoped. He just skirted the cats and brushed against Nightwing, lifting his head to gaze at Froststar with dead eyes.

A look of shock ran across the face of Amalric. How? Once again, he was humiliated by these cats, and now at the cost of his friend. Should they give up? How many cats must die for them to lose? He sat on a stone at the far side of the camp, dully thinking to himself about the severity of their situation and planning a stratagem. To any other cat, he might have looked insane mumbling to himself, but that was because the poor guy had the mind of a general, even if he was delirious, nevertheless.
Cedarfur trudged in, head lowered. He sat next to Gingerheart. "I'm sure I would have won too..." he said, as any warrior would have after a clan's crushing defeat. He looked up at the she-cat. "How did your battle go?" he asked Gingerheart, licking a bleeding scratch that was stubborn and hardly in his reach.

Red. That was the last thing that he could remember clearly. A bright, red splattered that quickly washed over his vision in a flash. There was a sharp pain in his neck, but he had honestly hardly noticed. An ugly stench rammed into the roof of his mouth. He tried to protest this, but all that came out was a sick, gargle sound. No - he couldn't move, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. For a few heartbeats, he was caught in a blind panic. And then, nothingness.

He thought he had heard voices talking. He felt like he was being moved. He was completely frozen though...

"... don't think there’s any... we can do..." The voice was faint. And it faded in and out. "... Must be something ... He still has ... lives ..." Another one. Why was it so familiar? Where was he?

Sagestar lay in a soft field, under the watchful eyes of StarClan. His body still lay as it was, bloody and mangled.

"Even we might not have the power to heal a wound that grave, Sparrowstar."
"We can! We will! Look! He's already starting to heal."
"He's already experienced that wound once, would you want to put him through that seven more times?"
"If there's a chance of him returning, yes. It's not his time."

The tom could still hardly make the two of them out. What were they saying? This wasn't right. He felt confused. And helpless. What exactly was going on here? ... That scent. He barely caught it. He recognized clan, though something seemed terribly wrong... Was that Fourtrees? He had felt as if he were started to be pulled down again to the ground. Out of this darkness. It was peaceful and relieving. He felt like he could let out a deep sigh then and, there.
And that's when it hit him. No, not the answer to any of his questions, but another sharp stab at his throat, worse than before. It felt like fire and stone thorns burning their way through his throat. And while he was completely unaware of it, for a few moments his still body in Nightwing's paws had a few heartbeats, though he was quickly stolen away again.
Sagestar let out another gargled cry that, with the passing time, grew into an ear-shattering scream that sounded through Silverpelt.

"See? He's strong."
The screaming didn't help at all with the pain, but that's all he felt he could do. When it slowly went away, there were tears left pouring out of his emerald eyes, his cries slowing until they came to an uneven whimper. Never before had he experienced such pain, StarClan; keep all of his lives if he ever had too again.

The two voices left for good, he noticed after a long period of silence. A new one broke through. While it was by far more difficult to understand than the ones before, hardly a whisper in his war, something - just something - gave it away too him. It was stubborn, caring, grieved and completely bitter-sweet. If he could find the strength to smile he would.

Feeling lost and disoriented, Sagestar took in a sharp, sudden gasp and flew his eyes open. Nothing was clear, but a blur. He thought he recognized the shape a few rabbit-hops away. "Frostberry?" He whispered, his voice a broken purr. Where was he... What was going...
Sudden memories came flashing back and he gasped again, fluffing up in sudden panic. He looked near crazed, distressed. "My clan! My clan! ShadowClan!" He yowled, though everything was still so unclear. He felt cold.

Froststar glanced from Nightwing to Reedheart. "Reedheart, please show these cats to the medicine cat den. Morningfur will be happy to help you all." She told the cats, hoping her younger sister was awake. Then again, with all this ruckus caused by the ShadowClan cats, she highly doubted anyone could stay in a peaceful slumber.
At the call of her name- one that sounded so old and strange, that seemed to represent her a lifetime ago, Froststar's ears went up. But she easily knew the voice that uttered those words, and before she turned around a relieved sigh escaped her muzzle. "Sagestar. You're alive.. I was getting worried.." She whispered, a weigh lifting off of her shoulders as he caught his breath.
Froststar's heart nearly broke at his reaction. Shaking her head, she padded over to Sagestar. "Everyone's here. They're all safe, don't worry. After you-" She coughed, uncomfortable with mentioning his death at the moment. "Well, after you.. left, ShadowClan retreated and came here. I'm sorry, Sagestar..." She wasn't sure if she could comfort him, but tentatively she rested her tail upon his shoulder.

Blood.
Willowpaw's head came up, staring keenly at the entrance of the den. There it was again. The stench of blood, thick on the breeze. Her dark brown fur stood up in alarm, ears straining to hear.
There were voices, unfamiliar and familiar alike. 'Froststar..? But who are those others?' Instinct always taught her to be cautious, guiding her paws as quiet as a mouse to the den entrance. Froststar was speaking to cats she had never seen before. The apprentice blinked; it must be ShadowClan. The stench was coming off of them.
The she-cat was out in an instant, running forward with green eyes widened in alarm. "F-Froststar! What happened?! Are they okay?!" Willowpaw asked, her voice shaking with fear as she approached her mentor.

Reedheart's gaze lingered on Froststar and Sagestar for a moment before he nodded, lashing his tail as he turned his attention to the ShadowClan cats. "Alright!" he mewed, stepping up to face Nightwing and the warriors behind her. "Follow me to the medicine clearing." Reedheart said, his voice rising through the air with an authoritative tone he didn't know he possessed. Reedheart turned, briskly walking past sedge. Even with news of ShadowClan's loss and their injuries, he felt strangely invigorated by the situation.

The warrior entered a pleasant yet sharp smelling area of camp that he knew all too well. Reedheart paused outside the medicine den, suddenly lost for words. How would he explain this?

"Morningfur, ShadowClan is here." he called softly, the confidence in his voice before dissipating.