The Bloodsoaked Forest // Warrior cats fanfiction // 10% survivors AU

CHAPTER 1 // Healing wounds

A bright, early green-leaf sun hung high in the bright blue sky as a slender, light brown tom padded across a small woodland, ears perked in search of prey.

After moons of living here, the tom had finally grown accustomed to his new home, a territory he and a few other surviving cats had chosen after leaving almost four seasons ago. 

It was a small patch of land, a little ways away from the old lake territories, with something for each clan in it. A patch of tall pine trees for Shadowclan. An undergrowth covered field for Thunderclan, with a few sparse trees here and there. A small, abandoned moor with a crumbling twolegs nest on it for Windclan and a small, fish-filled stream running through it all for Riverclan.

It was a small territory, so small that if he climbed the tree next to his current den and craned his just right, he could see right into the other clans camps, a feat that would have not been possible in their old home. Still, they had to make do, because, as they all had agreed all those moons ago, going back wasn't an option, not with what they had left behind.  

Opening his mouth, the tom hoped to catch a scent of any nearby animals, but instead, he froze in place, scenting something a lot more familiar.

Brightheart?  The tabby thought, recognizing his sisters smell. The fresh, leafy scent of the she-cat whorled around him. It was fluid, constantly changing, like a fast moving stream, a stream he had just fallen in. What is it? He questioned. It was like Brightheart was pushing him, pulling at his pelt, guiding him forwards. 

Are you trying to show me something?

This wasn't unusual, not for Thornstar anyways. After the battle against the Dark Forest the brown tabby had often felt the presence of his littermates and all of the fallen Thunderclan cats around him. 

Ever since the survivors of The Great Battle had moved into this tiny, new territory, Thornstar had begun to catch these scents, sometimes glimpsing patches of his clanmates fur if he was quick enough. 

But, after everything they had been through, It made his heavy, aching heart calm for a moment. It was as if they where still here, still here with him, with them.   

The tabby began stalking forward slowly. Thornstar followed the newly found scent trail, shouldering between a few patches of tall grass as he made his way up a small hill.

Then, his eyes landed on it.

A hare! Of course! How did I not notice that before?

Ever since The Great Battle Thornstar had found it hard to hunt. His mind would wonder and his muscles would tense at the slightest sound, as if Dark Forest warriors were still prowling in the undergrowth, ready to strike. Sometimes he thought his pelt still reeked of blood.

Thornstar shook his head. This was no time for self-pity, his clan was hungry and he needed to catch something soon.

Moving upwind, the tabby stalked closer, tensing the muscles in his hind legs as he prepared to jump. And jump he did.

In a single heartbeat Thornstar cleared the gap between him and the hare. Lashing forward with one paw he grabbed the creature, sinking his fangs into the soft flesh of its throat, killing it with a swift bite to the neck.

A moment later the leader placed his prey down in front of his paws, pressing his muzzle into it's still warm fur.

Thank you Starclan, for this prey that will keep our clan strong and fed. 

He raised his head, blue gazes scanning the tiny patch of forest around him. 

And thank you, Brightheart. He thought, as a bang of sadness itched its way into his chest. But the ginger she-cat did not answer him and, just like that - she was gone, like a streak of mist blown away by the wind. But it did not matter, not now anyway.