Warrior Cats: The Thistle and the Feather

Chapter 15

   LightningClan had just arrived when the black cats ceased fighting. They all stared around in confusion, for they felt none of the power that their leader had surged into them. This was the ultimate conclusion that Haunting was dead.
   Featherwing whisked her head to her side, Yang stood near her and exchanged her glance. Not just the mysterious cats were confused, everyone was. 
   A rough wind rushed through the trees, rustling the leaves and swaying the branches. Everyone looked up to see a starry outline of Featherwhisker's and Thistlestorm's friend - Shadow.
   "Haunting is dead," the tom spoke loud enough so that his voice was heard like a leader speaking to his Clan. Shadow stood tall and proud on what seemed to be nothing.
   Thistlestorm let go of his grip on the young black tom he was close to killing. His vision was blurry with tears as he realized - not only was Haunting dead - Shadow was dead. Shadow was his best friend, like a role model. His courage and willing to fight for what was right had inspired Thistlestorm. Now, the young warrior was even more motivated to live up to be like Shadow.
   "This fight isn't over!" A black tom yowled from the red-stained ground.
   A sear of blood slashed across the sky, it happened like a flash in front of everyone's eyes.
   "Blood will soar across many clearings, but only the sting of a bush and gentleness of a bird can stop it from ending the sky."
   And then Shadow was gone.
   It didn't make sense.
   "Fight! You imbeciles!" A black tom in the center of the clearing whisked his head right to left, he was referring to the other cats in his group. His eyes rested on Featherwing. She realized with a jolt that his eyes were a glowing purple, as if a purple steam was rising from them. He narrowed his eyes and stepped towards her slowly, giving her precious time to realize that he was way stronger than Haunting ever was.
   "I am your new leader, and I command you to fight!" Purple infused fire blanketed his paws, almost every cat backed away in fear.
   "We are too stunned to fight, Sal-inja," A she-cat spoke, murmurs of agreement rippled among the mysterious cats.
   Sal-inja was closer to Featherwing now, ignoring the she-cat's comment. He was now standing muzzle-to-muzzle with her. The young she-warrior gulped.
   "You look of use," He grinned evilly.
   Thistlestorm yowled and ran in between Sal-inja and his sister, "No way that's happening! You aren't touching her!"
   Sal-inja focused on Thistlestorm, his pupils contracting. Thistlestorm was lifted off the ground and thrown into a tree, as this was done, Sal-inja's eyes followed him. As if Sal-inja himself had done it. In which he possibly might've.
   Featherwhisker shrieked as she too was lifted up in the air, he scoffed and let her drop to the ground, she twitched in pain. 
   "Too weak," He scoffed and walked away, demanding that his descendants follow him. Most of them followed eagerly, while some followed with their head down. A couple stayed.
   Sal-inja looked back at them, "I said, come."
   "We're staying," one of them said and scooted closer to what appeared to be their brother.
   "Die in the craziness of murdering Clan cats," Sal-inja growled and kept walking.
   "Which Clan do you want to go to?" A male voice spoke.
   "LightningClan," was the calm response.
   "Oh, I wanted to go to RainClan."
   "We can split up, we'll see each other soon, Stone."
   "Aye, I hope so, Crash."
   Stone headed over to where LightningClan stood, and Crash went to go mourn with the other cats. RainClan was mourning over Flamestar, who had his last three lives sucked from him.

*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*()*

   "Many lives have been stolen today," Nettlestar started, looking down upon his Clanmates, "Unfortunately we were there too late to be of any help."
   Yang stood up from the grass, "We were, but not my children."
   Crowstream growled, "If it weren't for them, no Clan would be in this mess!"
   "Says who?!"
   "Says everyone!" Murmurs of agreement rang through the air.
   "Stop!" Nettlestar snapped, "This wasn't anyone's fault, and definitely not Thistlestorm's and Featherwing's! And their friends, Shadow, Dawn, and Hawk, who all died at the paws of Haunting."
   Featherwing sat up tiredly next to her brother, he was laying down with his front paw crooked in  an unnatural direction, it was caused from the force of the impact on the tree.
   "We will keep up our guard, and will inform the Clans on what happened tomorrow at the Gathering so that they too can be safe," Nettlestar said.
   "Who cares what happens to them!"
   Nettlestar curled his lip and was about to curse at the cat who called out, but he hesitated and spoke something else, "We've had four Clans forever, we can't have there be three, or two, or one. We all must work together, no matter how much we hate it."
   Thistlestorm nodded.
   Featherwing sighed and looked at everyone among the Clan. They were all tired, their pelts ragged from no sleep. Most if not all cats had a few scratches, in which Gorsestorm was attending to.
   This was a huge problem. What if in the end, there won't be four Clans?