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Duskowl's eyelids opened slowly, revealing the blurry image of skeletal trees against the contrasting whiteness of IceClan territory. He took a moment to lay still, hearing his own ragged breath move in and out of his lungs as condensation danced in front of his face. The world around him spun, warped and distorted like some cryptic nightmare.

       Then a she-cat's amber tabby face appeared in front of him, "Duskowl? Duskowl, can you hear me?"

       Her words triggered a ringing in his ears, and Duskowl squeezed his eyes shut again, praying for the high-pitched whine to stop. When at last it petered out, he reopened his green eyes and nodded.

"Good," the she-cat meowed, before moving to his side and bending down to hoist him upwards, "Come on now, we need to get back to camp."

The enormous brown tabby grunted with the effort as he pushed himself to his paws, relying a great deal on the support of the she-cat. His vision had begun to clear, and he now recognized Embermist, Hawkstar's sister. "W-what happened?" his aching muscles tensed, "Where's StreamClan?"

"Gone," Embermist murmured, "And so is IceClan."

Duskowl blinked, his head foggy as he glanced around. Red-stained lumps of fur dotted the battleground. But to his surprise, none of the bodies were of IceClan cats. "How did this happen?" he snarled, ears falling to his head and teeth bared in disgust.

Embermist's eyes were sorrowful, "It seems IceClan was involved with StreamClan this entire time. They fabricated that story of war to fool us and led us here to destroy our Clan."

"Those disgusting flecks of rabbit dung! I knew we never should've trusted them," Duskowl said grimly.

A group of cats was forming in the center of the clearing, with Hawkstar sitting at its middle. Duskowl leaned on Embermist's shoulder, and together they went to join their Clanmates.

The large orange tabby tom was covered in long gashes, and his eyes were dull, "Frostlion is dead," Hawkstar breathed, his head bowed in grief. Only then did Duskowl notice the limp body of the senior warrior lying at his leader's feet. Frostlion's once pure white fur was dyed a disturbingly vibrant red. "We must return to camp," Hawkstar didn't take his eyes off the fallen warrior as he spoke, "Only there can we rebuild our strength. Say your goodbyes now, to one of LeafClan's finest warriors, and one of the bravest cats I have ever known."

        One by one, the LeafClan warriors limped forward to touch their noses to Frostlion's pelt. Duskowl leaned in to the old warrior's cold body, sending a silent prayer to StarClan to protect the fallen cat during his journey into the stars. Then, he split away and fell into the line of cats that followed Hawkstar toward home.

       Realizing something, Duskowl picked up his pace, although his body protested. When he arrived next to Hawkstar, he slowed back down to walk alongside the leader. "Where's Ravensplash?"

       Hawkstar sighed, dragging his paws as he led the slow march down the mountain, "I'm not sure, Duskowl. Her patrol returned to aid us in the battle against StreamClan, as you can tell, since Frostlion was there. However, I've spoken with Redwind, Berrythorn, and Whitepaw. None of them have any idea what happened to her. They say that she was the one to order them back to help us. And so they went."

"They didn't see what happened to her?"

"Apparently not."

"Well, then, she could be in grave danger," Duskowl's voice was a low growl, "After all, Darkivy and Mistpaw were with her as well."

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