The Darkest Moons (Warrior Cats)

46. Victory

     The battle refused to let up. Yowls of anger and pain filled the air as blood mixed with sludge. Insults and claws flew in tandem as cats savagely tore into one another. While one side fought for greed, another fought for life, and the struggle would end here. Of this, Palepaw was certain.
     He was quick, slipping beneath a large black and white tom and heaving him off of his paws. The rogue yowled, and Palepaw tipped to the side, pushing the cat to the ground. The rogue hissed and spat, lashing out until he heard a cry for help from another cat. Palepaw shook the mud from his fur and snorted as the cat left. 
     He scanned the battlefield. His Clanmates were fighting bravely, attacking alongside FireClan warriors. Froststrike wrestled with a huge brown and white she-cat while Shadowclaw fought the powerful, rage-filled Fang, who snapped and slashed at him with a vengeance. Still, the deputy held his ground, fighting her off.
     Palepaw quickly found who he searched for: Spottedpaw. She was hissing at a FireClan warrior, who stomped forward and spat at her. He’ll hurt her! Alarmed, Palepaw streaked across the field, running towards the two.
     Someone tackled him. His face was shoved into the mud. He squirmed until his muzzle was free, and he gasped for air and twisted, swiping. His attack was dodged, and a brown tabby leapt away.
     “Claypaw!” Palepaw huffed, coughing. “What-“ He ducked as Claypaw batted at him. “What are you doing?”
     “Fighting for my Clan!” Claypaw snarled. He lunged, and Palepaw kicked him away. The young tom hit the ground with a thud.
     “I saved your life!” Palepaw growled. “Back off!”
     Claypaw stood and rocked on his paws. “I’m a loyal cat of WaterClan.”
     “So you’d gladly drive out a whole other Clan?” 
     Claypaw did not move. Guilt flickered in his eyes. He hissed loudly and backed away. “I’m just following the Code!” He shouted, turning and hurrying away. Palepaw watched as he attacked the FireClan warrior, warding off Spottedpaw’s assailant.
     Coward! Have all of my friends betrayed me? Palepaw grit his teeth and searched the battle for a target. He launched himself after a familiar long-legged tom: Coldwings. The cat yelped and bent under Palepaw’s weight, writhing under his claws. 
     “WaterClan, retreat!” A loud cry came. Palepaw shoved his enemy away and watched as WaterClan warriors rushed off. FireClan and DarkClan drove towards the rogues, and as they did so, the outsiders turned and darted away. Palepaw dashed towards the front of his Clan, listening to Blackstar’s orders. 
     “Drive the rogues across the thunderpath! Every last one!”
     Palepaw pushed himself harder. When a young tom turned and hissed at him, he tackled him, rolling him and throwing him towards his comrades. The cat scrambled up and limped away. 
     The two Clans sprinted across the field, yowling at the rogues. They threw themselves across the thunderpath, madly dodging the monsters. Vine spat at each and every one of his cats, herding them from behind, and when he was the last at the edge, a herd of warriors chasing him, he sped across the rock.
     As the two Clans cheered, Palepaw peered at the rogue. None had noticed that he had paused, staring ahead. “Blackstar,” he whispered. The leader followed his gaze and stiffened. A monster lurched along the path. Vine twisted to meet it.
     Palepaw flinched when a shriek filled the air, silencing everyone. The monster did not stop. A lump of brown and red laid on the thunderpath, crushed by the beast’s paws.

     Cats were strewn about camp, licking their wounds. Some, at the battlefield, had received quick enough treatment with poultices to help the less fortunate back. Redwing had received a massive cut along her neck, her sides sporting deep rakes, and so she slept in the medicine den. Miststep kept constantly vigilance.
     Palepaw had been lucky and received few scratches, and so he had helped Blackstar and Shadowclaw to bury Vine in the fields by the thunderpath. He had not been the only rogue to die.
     Scorchpaw sulked at the edge of camp, head bowed in respect — or guilt — for the cat that had died from his claws. Poppy, who had walked with the tired Clan like any member, groomed the rogue’s pelt until it was as smooth as stone and cleaner than kitten fur.
     Palepaw finished cleaning the mud from his claws and padded towards his denmate. Despite the anger he had felt, pity gnawed at him for the cat. To see his friend so hurt made him ache. “Hey,” He mewed.
     “Hi,” Scorchpaw muttered, voice dry. 
     “It was an accident,” Palepaw insisted. “And he’ll be buried properly.”
     Scorchpaw blinked and crouched. “He had a life of his own. He wasn’t too much older than us.”
     Poppy stood and moved to Scorchpaw’s side. “Sparrow was willing to give his life for his kin. He knew that fighting would be dangerous.”
      “Whether or not he was ready, I- He-“ Scorchpaw groaned. “I’m too tired to deal with this.”
     “Go rest. I’ll bury him,” Poppy said softly. The affection in her voice startled Palepaw. The way she nuzzled Scorchpaw’s ear made him uncomfortable.
     She loves him. “I’m going to help Echopaw with everything,” Palepaw meowed, getting to his paws quickly. She could probably use it, whether Helen is there or not. He carried himself to the medicine den, slipping inside and frowning at how full it was. Miststep and Ashtail crowded Redwing’s nest as Helen helped to mix a poultice for Echopaw, who searched in her stores. Maybe she’ll become Echopaw’s apprentice. The thought almost made him snort.
     “I’ll go check on everyone to make sure there are no more untreated wounds,” Helen chirped, brushing past Palepaw.
     She’s hunted for the Clan, and helped Rainfall and Rosepetal during their pregnancies. She’s even helping Echopaw after the battle. Maybe she’s not all that bad.
     “That hurts!” Redwing snarled. Echopaw continued to rub the poultice in.
     “It’ll have to. Now shut up and stay still before you bleed to death!” The medicine cat growled. “Your wounds are horrible! Palepaw, what do you want?”
     “Can I help with anything?” He asked. 
     Echopaw flattened her ears. “Yeah: get out. It’s cramped enough in here!”
     Palepaw dipped her head and backed out of the den. He smoothed his ruffled fur. She’s under a lot of stress.
     “Palepaw!” Echopaw chirped before he could walk away from the den. “Redwing is asking to see Blackstar. Get him.”
     Palepaw nodded and looked around the camp. He found his leader standing by Scorchpaw, speaking with he and Shadowclaw. The sorrowful apprentice had not moved a mousetail. Palepaw sighed at the sight and trotted up to Blackstar. “Redwing is asking for you.”
     Blackstar hummed to himself. “Very well. Shadowclaw, take Rainfall and Tidefoot and bury Sparrow.”
     “Yes, Blackstar,” the deputy said before starting towards the warriors’ den. 
     Blackstar stared at Poppy. “You’ll be sleeping in the apprentices’ den for now. You’re welcome as a guest for a moon, but you must begin helping around camp if you want to stay.”
     Poppy dipped her head. “Thank you, but I’ll begin helping whenever possible. I don’t want to stay here without giving something in return.”
     “You helped us win the battle,” Scorchpaw meekly argued.
     “Because it was the right thing to do,” Poppy chirped, then looking to Blackstar. “I want to do everything I can to help out.”
     “Very well. Scorchpaw, make a nest for her. Palepaw, get her something to eat.” Blackstar moaned in exhaustion. “Hunting patrols will be out early tomorrow.”