That was spamming, please don't do it again. Keep it up and in the very likely occasion she dies, I might make her go to the realm Duke went to.
Now...
Chapter Nine
Kin’s Blood is Spilled
Every other cat thought it was amazing. As they fought the rogue cats they marveled at how cats who had not too long ago had been enemies, were now fighting alongside each other. The ThunderClan apprentice originally had been impressed, but that didn’t matter anymore. She could see the slimly traitor, and scent his fear. The purple black she-cat slowly slunk over, looking deadly. Smudge shuddered.
“Irispaw, look at me! Can’t you see I’m your Clanmate?” Irispaw’s cold gray eyes bore into amber ones.
“Really? All I see is a traitor who killed my mentor!” The rogue was knocked over in two seconds as Irispaw lunged. It was time for her revenge! She bit down on his shoulder. Pain flooded her as she felt his claws rake her nose, but tried to ignore it. Smudge kicked with his hind legs, knocking Irispaw off. She jerked herself to her feet. Hatred strengthened her, and she would not be defeated.
Duskwind had been unable to stand it. As soon as Birchstripe was distracted, he had snuck off into battle. He was surprised by his skill, though felt a nagging guilt. Still, the path of a medicine cat wasn’t for him. He was certain of that. StarClan wouldn’t make that big of a mistake. He slashed at a rogue’s side. It leapt at him, and instinctively he flipped onto his back, buffeting the rogue’s underside with his back legs. It knocked him off, and sank its teeth into his shoulder. Duskwind bellowed in pain. He had never felt a fangs sink so painfully into his flesh. He jerked away and bit down on the rogue cat’s throat. Blood was all he could smell and the victim struggled…then fell limp. The dark gray tom stared in surprise. He had never killed a cat before. He didn’t like the feeling. StarClan hadn’t made a mistake…Duskwind had. As he stared at the body, Mugs crept up behind him. He leapt, and landed on the medicine cat’s back, razor sharp fangs in Duskwind’s neck. Duskwind struggled, hardly able to endure the agonizing pain. Mugs tightened his grip. Duskwind writhed frantically, a collar of blood forming around his neck. Mugs attacked the neck with his front claws also. Duskwind’s vision blurred, slowly things went out of focus and got darker…until blackness took over.
“Oh StarClan! Duskwind!” Birchstripe called, running over with Duskwind’s two closest friends, Rainfeather and Streakfur, who were carrying herbs. The two toms dropped the herbs, staring at their friend as the light gray she-cat examined her apprentice. Even Mugs, his attacker stared in shock, Then Birchstripe lifted her head, tears falling on the dark gray pelt. “He’s with StarClan now.” She whispered hoarsely. The two warriors stared at their limp friend, a look on of agony and horror permanently on his face. The cousins stared at each other then, and turned to Mugs.
“Will give you a running start,” Streakfur growled.
“But then we’ll be there to kill you!” Rainfeather snarled.
Brackenpaw held Shortfoot as though he were a kit.
“Weakling. I expected more from even ShadowClan.” Shortfoot writhed, trying to knock the tom off, but Brackenpaw wouldn’t let go. The tan rogue’s claws which had been sheathed when Shortfoot was pinned, now unsheathed and dug into his flesh. The tortoiseshell closed his eyes, just waiting to see StarClan. At least he’d probably get to meet Nightstar and some other ShadowClan cats he admired from the stories he told kits. And he had lived a full life; he had become a warrior, mentored an apprentice, fathered kits, and even been lucky to become deputy and later have another apprentice. He was better off than some dying cats. But Brackenpaw didn’t make the killing move. This puzzled Shortfoot. Brackenpaw’s attack couldn’t kill him, unless he kept him like that with claws tearing his flesh for a long time…the ShadowClan deputy shuddered. Brackenpaw was trying to kill him in a very painful way.
“Let him go!” A youthful voice yowled. Shortfoot saw a small golden tabby launch himself at the traitor. He bit down on the tan tom’s shoulder, fur fluffed in rage.
“Goldpaw, no!” Shortfoot croaked. Brackenpaw snarled and knocked the apprentice away into a rock fall. Terror flooded his eyes as the rocks came crashing down. Shocked, Brackenpaw loosened his grip on the deputy, he ran over to his apprentice.
“I didn’t mean…I didn’t think…that wasn’t meant to happen! I just wanted him to go away!” Brackenpaw stammered in shock.
“Goldpaw!” Shortfoot roared, burrowing through the rocks. Soon he found a limp form. “Shadowstar! Please come here! I have one desperate request!” Shadowstar reached the two cats, just fighting through a crowd of rogues in order to reach his attacked deputy.
“Brackenpaw!” The ShadowClan leader hissed. “I can’t believe you sided with DeathClan to kill my deputy…oh StarClan!” Shadowstar stopped yowling at Brackenpaw as he saw Shortfoot’s request.
“Is he worthy?” The tortoiseshell cat asked, eyes clouded with grief. Shadowstar nodded miserably. He never thought he’d have to perform this ceremony.
“I ask my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has learned the warrior code and given up his life in service of his Clan. Let StarClan receive him as a warrior. His name will be Braveclaw, because of his courage and willing to sacrifice. Let StarClan receive him by the name of Braveclaw.” Brackenpaw turned and ran as the two ShadowClan cats touched noses with the apprentice. But he wasn’t running for his life, he hoped to escape the crime he had committed. He had killed the ShadowClan deputy. Shortfoot’s spirit was dead.
Mugs fled, but the two vengeful RiverClan cats were on his heels. He had made a hideous mistake when he murdered Duskwind. Rainfeather’s claws nearly reached him, but missed by hairsbreadth. Streakfur sank his teeth into the traitor’s tail, but he jerked free. He ran, and stopped short as he saw the edge of one of the mountain’s cliffs. Swallowing nervously, he turned to face Rainfeather and Streakfur.
“Ready to die, traitor?” The black tom growled. The ginger streaked warrior unsheathed his claws, ready to kill. Mugs’ heart raced. He couldn’t go through with this. He knew he was going to die, slowly. Mugs didn’t want to be ripped to shreds. That was his fate, for he couldn’t run. Unless…
A yowl off terror split the air as Mugs leapt off the cliff’s edge. Rainfeather still tried to pursue him, but his cousin held him back. The first kin had died.
Smudge was pleading for his life. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to fight…Irispaw would defeat him, he was sure of that.
“Please, I’ll do anything! Leave the forest, make you leader of ThunderClan, help you take over to the forest!” Irispaw’s eyes burned.
“You offer me the things a traitor would desire.
I am no traitor!” The ThunderClan apprentice growled. Smudge knew he was doomed. But he wouldn’t go down without a fight. Lips pulled back and hackles rising, he snarled,
“Fine! I’ll reunite you with your mentor!” The traitor threw himself at her, aiming for her throat. The jaws shut on it, but she pulled away, trying to ignore the pain. Claws unsheathed, Irispaw leapt at Smudge’s face. He didn’t have time to flip, duck, or do anything to defend himself. The claws raked his eyes. Frantically, the DeathClan cat clawed out, blinded. “You’re coming down with me, Irispaw! I ain’t goin’ that easily!” He rasped, making several futile attempts to grab her throat. Then the world was black.
“Irispaw, are you alright?” Dustpaw called, running over. He stopped as he saw his slain brother. “Mugs is dead…so it must be me or Feather.” He gasped. Irispaw blinked.
“What?” She asked.
“Don’t you see? Remember how I reacted when you told me the prophecy? Mugs, Feather, Smudge, and I are the kin!” Dustpaw hissed. “If Feather’s the survivor, there’ll be more trouble for the Clans.” Solemnly he looked into his friend’s eyes. “I could die in this battle, and we have to accept that.”
“But I’ve already lost so many friends!” She wailed, burying her nose in his flank. Dustpaw sighed.
“Then you know what to dread. Even if I die, I shall be there in StarClan, waiting for you and Firepaw.” He replied. Then, not meeting the apprentice’s eyes, strode back into battle.
“Get her!” Slink rasped, struggling to shake the dark gray she-cat off his neck. A rogue pulled her away, but Feather launched herself at Slink. Jaws clamped on his throat, cutting off his breath and strangling a cry for help. Through mouthfuls of blood and fur she snarled,
“It was an honor working with you, but I’ll be leader now, you dirty, slimy crowfood!” Slink clawed her shoulder, but she ignored the wound as though a kit had pawed at her with a sheathed paw.
“Feather…I’m your leader…” He begged.
“Not anymore.” Feather replied coldly. Suddenly, a light colored tabby jerked her away. She tried to stand, but two more surrounded her. She shut her eyes, her very last memory the claws and fangs in her flesh.
Sorry Runningfoot, but destiny called, and Feather answered.