Colorful Doom

Chapter 17

Nightfeather gave the WindClan cats around her an uneasy glance. Ever since the patrol had moved out, the moor cats had completely ignored her.

"What are you staring at?" Snapped a she-cat.

Nightfeather gave her a sweet smile and turned around, eyes narrowed. "Ah. They finally speak." She muttered.

A hiss sounded behind her, but she ignored it. WindClan had been bitter ever since they had set out. She guessed that not every one was onboard with the idea of supporting another Clan, but this was pushing it a little too far. Nightfeather looked around. They had been trekking through RiverClan territory for quite a while. It was strangely silent.

Too quiet.

Nightfeather pricked her ears, eyes widening when she heard the unmistakable sounds of a battle going on ahead. Screechs ripped through the air, many of them laced with pain. She glanced at the rest of the patrol, and by their shocked faces, they heard it too. She dug her claws into the wet ground, crouching low in the reeds.

Shadestar mirrored her actions and began to slowly move forward. She followed after him, making sure her paws didn't get caught in the sucking mud.

Nightfeather opened her jaws and tasted the air once the camp was in view. The scent that hit her almost made her heart stop. It was the putrid scent of death. She almost gagged as she clamped her jaws shut.

"What...is that ?" Nightfeather choked out.

Shadestar's muffled meow rose above the screeches. "Just go! Move out!"

Nightfeather watched as the WindClan cats leaped forward to rush into the camp. Her own paws reluctantly moved after them.

Nothing could have prepared her for the sight in front of her. Dead bodies were strewn across the camp, rotting away. Flies flitted around one particular heap. Kits and apprentices created a pile, bones visible beneath their pelts. The cats of ShadowClan werw fighting with those of 'RoseClan', and it wasn't a pretty sight. Most of them seemed to be rogues.

Nightfeather turned her head away and vomited, the scent too much to take. She looked up to see that her patrol had already leaped into the midst of battle. Suddenly, a shape flew at her, and she was knocked to the ground. She writhed in their grip, but the weight on her chest ensued.

Nightfeather looked up, desperately trying to catch her breath. She immediately recognized the cold blue eyes looking down at her as Fern, the she-cat that had killed Dustblossom.

Nightfeather managed to let out a gasp. "Get off me."

Fern smiled her signature grin and shook her head, voice frighteningly sweet. "Oh, no, no, no! See, Rosestar wants you."

Nightfeather felt her vision begin to darken.

"Alive."

In one fluid motion, the black she-cat surged forward, using what little strength she had left. Nightfeather panted loudly, her vision going back to normal. Claw marks were scored into her shoulders. She winced as the adrenaline began to slowly disappear and her wounds burn

Fern cackled, eyes filled with glee. "You'll never escape the wrath of RoseClan! Kill me! Kill all of us! It'll never make a difference."

Nightfeather backed away. "You're insane!" She growled, unsheating her claws.

Fern giggled. "Enough talk!" She cried before leaping forward.

Nightfeather narrowed her eyes and darted away heartbeats before the crazed she-cat touched the ground. She whipped around, claws flashing as she scooped her paws from under her.