Warriors: 9 Lives of TERROR

Does it hurt when you see me smile? You know I've won, you're just in denial

Chapter thirty-nine  

Froststar paused at the camp entrance. He did not want to go into camp and face his Clan, with three dead bodies. Oh, stop being a mouse-heart! Just go in there. Froststar took a breath, then pushed through the thorn barrier.

Heads turned, and the meowing began.

"They're back!"

"Please deal with Quickflash! She is out of her mind!"

"Is Froststar okay? Did he lose any lives?"

"Where are my kits?"

"Who's hurt?"

"Did we win?"

Froststar ignored all of it, pushing past the crowd of cats. Mistfeather was beside him in a heartbeat. "You're bleeding a lot. Sit down, I'll get Wishfeather."

"No, no," he muttered, staggering past her, dragging himself up onto high ledge. He took some deep breathes, ignoring the pain of his many wounds. Now that his adrenaline was wearing off, he felt it. "Clan!" he began. He could only raise his voice so much. "I have an announcement. We have been successful. SkyClan and RiverClan have bowed to us. But, at a grave price. We have lost Poppyfeather, Mousetuft, and Whiteclaw." He glanced down at the bodies. Mossypelt was crouched over his sister, Mousetuft, Robinflight stroking his back with her tail. Lilysplash was burying her nose in Whiteclaw's fur, and Shadeblossom was stroking Poppyfeather's head. Mousetuft, he wasn't worried about. Poppyfeather was dull as a rock, but she was still good muscle for his group. But Whiteclaw, had been a good supporter. He was a heavy loss.

Froststar felt light-headed. Blood was pouring from his wounds fast now. "They..... they will be missed. Tomorrow, and the next few days, will be for healing. After, we will further deal with RiverClan and SkyClan..... the kits.... and apprentices that need to be made Warriors. For now.... for now..." Froststar swayed a bit. "For now, put the kits in the nursery, and bury... the dead." The world blurred before his eyes.

"Okay, that's enough, come down." Mistfeather's voice sounded far away, as she lead him down from high ledge. During both battles, he hadn't realized how injured he had gotten. Mistfeather, and another cat, Fernclaw he believed, lead him to Wishfeather's den. He lay down on soft moss. Mistfeather began to lick his wounds. It didn't take long for him to slip into a fitful pain-filled sleep.

~~~~~~~~

Dusk was just beginning to fall. Ivyclaw lay under high-ledge, head on her paws. At first glance she was resting, but if anyone watched her, they would be able to tell that she was alert. Her wounds had been treated, and the pain was reduced to a dull throb. She understood, though, the second she stood up and moved around they would hurt again.

However, that was the least of the tortoiseshell's concern. She had survived the battle with RiverClan, but it had been horrific. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see the dying cats. Every time she twitched and ear, she could hear the screams of pain. Every time she inhaled, she could smell the reek of fear and blood. Every time she swallowed, she could taste it.

Ivyclaw had been in many, many battles, her senior warrior seasons weren't that far away. But nothing had been compared to this one. The ThunderClan warriors had descended upon RiverClan like foxes on a rabbit. Ivyclaw had seen at least six bodies when they had left.

And the kits, they had taken the kits! Ivyclaw had always known her younger brother hadn't been quite right, but this was pure evil and it had to be stopped.

After Stormlight and Willowlight had died, Ivyclaw had felt completely alone. She had never been bothered by not having any littermates, and only two siblings, but now she wished she had more. Willowlight had always had trouble having kits, which is the reason why all their age gaps were large with no pattern, and there was only one surviving kit per litter.