[nothing left] All the Survivors [they're all gone

[ZeMoufette]

It was dawn. The sky was lighting up, the midnight blue winter night was streaked by a strip of white light, illuminating the cloudy sky. No stars shone through, a layer of clouds hung in the sky now, something she had only noticed now. The pale morning light marked the end of a horrific night.

Ashfoot collapsed on the rocky ledge in exhaustion. The past night seemed like a blur to her, a blur of bounding across the moors with slashing claws at her heels, scrambling through a pitch black forest, full of fear that a BloodClan warrior was around the corner. The blood-spattered ground and cruel re-enforced claws ripping through her pelt dominated her mind.

But it was over. For now. They had reached safety, finally. The band of stragglers had found each other while they blundered madly in the forest. It was a miracle that they had managed to slip away from the jaws of their pursuers to scramble up this sandy slope.

The forlorn band of what was left of RiverClan had been by the river, trying to find solace in the river, their element. ThunderClan had been not far away, neither had ShadowClan. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement that they would head to highstones. It was the place that their warrior ancestors had been coming to for guidance for generations.

After having escaped through the forest, it was all she could do to lie there panting. The images of the past night replayed in her head as the rest of the band of survivors followed.

It was over.

A few had escaped with their lives.

But the clans had been shattered.

[sootfrost]

The dark abounds, waiting to suck everything into its abyss. At least thats how it felt. Pain and agony rippled in series of distressed shudders threw her body. Her small gray paws scraped painfuly against stone. At least she could still feel it. At least she was alive to feel the furiouse suffering clawing its way into her heart. Her wide pale eyes reluctantly counted the survivors. Fernpaw whished she hadn't.

14. There where only 14 left. How? Why? Curse you bloodclan... Curse you Scourge and all thoes maruding kittypets you call clan mates. Pain tore threw Fernpaw's throat, it forced a gasp threw her teeth. Shaking her head hard, Fernpaw limped up to another gray she-cat. Right now it didn't matter that she knew no more then this cats name. Right now it didn't matter that she could smell Windclan comming from this cat's very soul.

The little speckled thunderclan apprentice colapsed next to Ashfoot. Her young body curling in weary suffering, like an elder aching from sore bones. So much had happened. First it was Brinddleface. Oh dear mother, why? Why you mother? Weak anger flared in Fernpaw's green eyes. Tigerstar. Tigerstar did this. Hatred rose like bile in Fernpaw's throat. Her snapped and wrenched claws scrapped against stone, highstones could feel her pain as well. Relization smacked her in the face at that moment. The relization of Bluestar's mouse brained mistake.

She had aloud Tigerstar to go free. No death for him,just a ticket to the leader spot of shadowclan. This was all thunderclan's fault. Ferpaw rolled, burrying herself in the side of Ashfoot's pelt. She didn't care if the windclan warrior ripped herself away, she just wanted to feel her there. To know that everyone isn't dead. Fernpaw forced one name from her head, his soft amber eyes gouged holes in her memories. Why did he have to die? She closed her eyes tight, trying to pretend the warrior beside her was a dark tabby, prepared to groom her ears.

Dustpelt smelt oddly like rabbit.

[Blade]

Weak brown paws stumbled forwards. They couldn't stop moving, despite the blood trail they left behind them. The pale tabby atached to thoes paws swayed, almost falling to the boulders under her. The tawny cat's belly stood out considerably, she was so close to kitting. Tallpoppy blinked the terror and pain from her sleepy amber orbs. She was in a state of shock. Everything. Every last thing had been lost or removed. The warrior code had been lifted and thorwn into the river. A shudder shot under her pelt, brown hairs lifting with hiden static. Feverish deminsia tore into her mind. She felt like a broken plaything. Something a bored kit had tossed aside. Her tail kinked itself up in cold curiosity. How many where left? Who had fallen in their horrafied rush for highstones? Who else had Scourge stollen away from her?

Pregnancy and fleeing does not fit well in the same box, and Tallpoppy was fealing the effects of their broken union. Her breath hitched and broke as her ribs shuddered under their thin layer of skin and brown fur. Limping severely the shadowclan queen found herself unable to drag her orbs from the stone bellow her nose. She was fearful of what she would find there, there where her eyes would touch so few cats. So few warm bodies to press against. So few bodies to cry with. Stumbling up, she felt the sharp incline in her path. Mothermouth would be coming up soon. She remembered from her single visit here, when she had accoumpanied her uncle to see the moonstone. She never wanted to see that glowing rock again.

Coming to a painful stop, Tallpoppy took a shallow breath. It rasped in her throat, a rough pain that only joined up with all her other aches. It wouldnt be the last either. She thought bitterly. Grasping at her last strands of courage, Tallpoppy lifted her muzzle. Cringing when she saw but two shapes before her. They where both gray, and at first she thought they where mother and daughter, but no. One was the windclan warrior Ashfoot. The other was the young speckled thunderclan apprentice, Fernpaw. The younger cat was snuggled up against Ashfoot's side. Tallpoppy couldn't blaim her. Its exactly what she wanted to do right then. "Ashfoot" she rasped, her voice horse adn low. "Ashfoot. Fernpaw." Tallpoppy scuttled forward, her small shaking paws barly supporting her bulging form. "Is there anyone else?" she whispered. "Anyone?"

[ZeMoufette]

A silhouette appeared on the ridge underneath the pale light of sunrise. Ashfoot could barely see it through her blurred vision, but it was another cat. A rasping voice spoke her name, sounding as panicked as she felt. And another name, Fernpaw, which she now recognized as the cat collapsed beside her. She screwed her eyes shut in an effort to concentrate on Tallpoppy's words.

And it was a question. Was there anyone left? There were no cats from ThunderClan here. Maybe there were more cats from their lush forest. As for her own Clan, she could not be certain. She had fought to save her friend, Whitetail, but her unconcious body had been taken from her by a stringer, more fit, warrior. Where was she now? Had they escaped?

She found she had no answer for the panicked queen, in much the same position as herself. The only ones left from their clans. Expecting kits, soon to come. She wished she could answer, but the only thing she could tell the other she-cat was "I don't know," she repeated in her exhausted voice "I don't know."

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The golden brown tom made his way up the slope, egging his companion on in a low voice. "Come on Speckletail," he mewed exhaustedly "We've come this far, we can make it to the top." It was highstones they were heading for, an unspoken decision. They needed an answer. They needed to see whether they had been abandoned by the starry cats who watched over them.

Speckletail was sure of it. How could they have let this happen otherwise? How could they have let their descendants lose their homes, their lives, their faith? Brackenfur was less sure. He restrained his mind, keeping it focused on the task at hand. Getting to highstones was his one thought. The fleeing cats he had met in the woods had been heading there. They would too.

Speckletail shook. Her old bones were exhausted as they climbed the ridge. Brackenfur kept behind her, pushing her to go on. The top of the ridge was not far off. The pale light lit up the sandy ridge, it was barren of most plants and the rocky ridge was looming right overtop of them. The last rocky ridge lay above them. Brackenfur sped up, scrambling quickly up. At the last ledge, he waited, the she-cat followed, though not as quickly, steadily. She made it up, and together, they leaped over the ridge.