parting breath [closed]

Poppycloud slipped out of camp, her tall, lean figure silhouetted against the cloudy sky. She took a deep breath of the crisp, cool leaffall air as she began to meander slowly across the rolling moors of WindClan. The late afternoon sun no longer pierced the thick, cloudy blanket above her, and what had been a cool breeze earlier in the day was now a sharp, cutting wind that penetrated her short fur. Shivering, the white and ginger she-cat picked up her pace a little bit. She had left camp simply to enjoy the weather, but what had been a nice day had transformed into a rather disappointing afternoon. Determined to make the most of her time, however, the WindClan warrior pressed on until she was out of breath.

Seated comfortably, she gazed out over the rolling moorland as storm clouds rolled in. She had no reason to suspect danger, and she sensed nothing in the wind that blew into her face. The white and ginger she-cat paid attention only to the wind in her fur and the dark clouds as they drew nearer. She wouldn't stay much longer, she didn't want to be out in the territory when the storm arrived.

---

The dog was hungry. He could smell cat. Food, he thought. He ran towards the cat. It didn't move, so he didn't stop. The cat turned when he reached her, but it only had a short time to react before he caught it up in his jaws. He shook it, ready to attack it further, when he heard the whistle. Go, he thought, disappointed. The cat's lean body dropped to the ground as he turned around and sprinted back in the direction he had come.

---

Poppycloud whirled around as she felt a hot, stale breath reach her neck. One moment, there had been nothing, and the next moment, a powerful predator was only a tail-length from her. She tried to slip around the dog's clumsy body, but it scooped her tall, lean body easily into its jaws. She struggled and clawed at the dog's muzzle, desperately trying to free herself from its deadly grasp. She could already feel herself losing consciousness, and her vision was beginning to blur when she hit the ground with a thud. The broken warrior could make out the large, powerful body of her attacker receding into the distance. She let out a sigh of relief, but to her dismay even a single breath racked her body with pain.

She was beginning to give up hope, trying desperately not to slip away from consciousness, when a brown blur caught her eye. What was it? Was the dog returning to finish her? But something told her that this was not the dog... the figure was familiar, one of her Clanmates. Her eyelids drooped dangerously, but something clicked in her head. "Swiftstep?" she called out weakly. "Is that y-you?" Her tone was pleading, her voice full of worry as she uttered her question with what little strength and confidence she had left.

Swiftstep had been taking a stroll, an outlet for his buzzing mind. Usually, he was way too busy to do this but today, he was surprised to realize he had extra time available to relax. Maybe he can even take back some prey. Might as well right?

The deputy wandered for a bit, no destination in mind. As he neared a particular area, his fur stood on end. He felt deep chills course through his numb body. A crumpled figure lay not too far from him. As he approached cautiously, the figure spoke in a familiar voice. "P-P-Poppycloud?! Darlin'!" The tom raced forward and looked down at her broken body. He felt the all too familiar sting of tears making their way forward. "S-Sweetheart...Who...Who did this to you?!" The tom began to desperately try and warm her cold body, which was increasingly getting colder and colder. This couldn't be happening. The stars were so cruel. They were ripping apart his heart, taking away all those he loved. He felt his limbs wobble. The tom felt hopelessly lost in the abyss of emotional pain and sorrow. Swiftstep pressed his nose to her cheek and began to sob. He couldn't let her die. He had to rush her back to camp. Briarpaw could hopefully stabilize her. Keep her away from death's grasp. "Y-You'll be okay my sweetheart. I-I'll take you b-back to camp and Briarpaw will f-fix you up. You'll be alright." Oh Starclan please don't take my kit away. The tom soon began to attempt to lift her onto a comfortable position so he could take her back to camp as fast as he could. However, he was struggling to do so because of his shaking.

aaaaaaaaaaa


Poppycloud's vision focused, finally, and she was relieved to see the familiar, comforting face of her father. "S-S-wiftstep," she murmured. "D-Daddy." She took another shaky, painful breath and was shocked to find herself choking back a sob. She was not one to become emotional, and rarely even shed a tear. What was happening to her? Was the situation as grave as she suspected?

She shivered, feeling the cold seeping more and more through her short, ginger-splashed fur. She felt Swiftstep's cheek touch hers, a welcome sliver of warmth in the increasingly cold air of the evening. As her vision faded in and out, she could see that the storm was still rolling in. It will rain soon, she thought, wondering with a heavy heart if she would still be here when the first drops began to reach them. Swiftstep was saying words, but they were uninteligible. She could tell now that she was slowly fading out of consciousness. The sky began to spin, slowly at first, and then faster, faster. Suddenly everything jolted as her adoptive father began to lift her, attempting to do it smoothly but shaking too much to do any good.

"N-no, s-s-stop," she breathed. Why was she saying this? If he managed to deliver her safely to Briarpaw, there was a chance that she could make a recovery... but somehow, she knew that this injury was more than a simple medicine cat apprentice could fix. "I-I-I love y-you, S-Swift....Swift...Dad..." she managed. Just a little bit more. Mustering all her strength, she whispered, "I'll see you again," She squeezed her eyes shut. Everything was spinning, blurring in and out, fading from light to darkness. She breathed out, slowly, softly.

The first raindrop fell. It landed on the wet, cold nose of a ginger and white warrior of WindClan. Her body was cold and empty, lifeless. The she-cat's father wept by her side.