Warrior Cats One-Shots

R O S E S

"Ebonykit" the white creamy she-cat shrieked as a night black she-cat grabbed her kit tightly, blood dripping from its fur. The little yellowish and brown she-kit screamed in pain as she could feel teeth and strong jaws pressing and tearing her fluffy fur apart. Her deformed leg was now visible to all the cats in the clearing. "Sagefeather" It's tiny mew rank through the walls of the camp, its mother now running towards her little kit.

The creamy queen's soft blows on the ground rapped the earth, her claws stretched hard. Her lungs were heaving fast. She was melancholic, not barring to see her own kit being displayed like fresh kill on a pile. Her rage pulsed hard like the blood in her veins. She was now close to the high rock where countless Thunderclan leaders had addressed their clan.

Climbing the stiff rocks at the wrong side, Sagefeather kept going. Now she could hear the laughter of her clan mates while they watched their mighty leader tearing the flash of Ebonykit. Not killing the little she-kit, but torturing her as the kit had no more strength to fight, to back away or mew for help. She shiny grins of her clanmates shined like little moons on the clearing, but each of those cats felt a deep sorrow for the little kit being torn apart on the high rock. Each of her clanmates feeling hollow, but not daring to move or object, for they didn't want to end up like the tiny kit.

Sagefeather could already have a glimpse of the black fur and white, sharp claws on the high ridge. But the she-cat was blinded by rage, not reflecting at her every step. Suddenly her muscles screamed from pain when a cut from a pointy rock flashed her skin open wide, blood like a waterfall cascade on her own pelt.

The she-cat ignored it, agony visible in her eyes. Her rather painted red pelt stiffened when she finally was able to climb the ridge. Fernstar, the black as night she-cat with gleaming, cruel yellow eyes smirked at the drenched in blood she-cat. Too shocked to move, Sagefeather was frozen. She looked down to her kit, the little scrap of fur was deathly quiet, lay unmoving in a pool a blood.

Roses

All he could see was roses

White or red, but never black were that beautiful flowers in his secret garden. They danced on the wind, the white roses demonstrated a calm being and peace while the red ones showed love and endurance. Some of their petals mended together, making the perfect combination. For the world with peace and love was a world without pain a sorrow. Thawfrost walked alone on the meadow of Thunderclan. The skies with a tinge of pink and purple. Dawn had come and gone fast. The trees guarding him in a protective circle around the middle, while the tall grass that carried roses danced with him while his thought drifted away.

He was padding slowly along the ridge, his old bones not allowing him to go faster. but why run? He had already lived his life, why not let younger cats feel the swift breeze on their fur while their muscles tensed, pushing forward? Why not let the feeling of being drenched in your own blood for younger cats? Or why not just leave them to the excited of their first love? Thawfrost wasn't on time, for time had no more meaning for him. Yet the elderly tom watched each sunrise and sunset with interest, lost in memories.

But suddenly his eyes clouded, his mind bulged him forward, leading him to one of the darkest parts of his life. The trees watched him, turning themselves on cats who wouldn't follow their own minds, but follow others who were wrong for their own sake. The roses, the white roses turned to black, dying right there, fading and sinking on their own fate. The red roses, oh the red roses turned themselves into a red liquid substance, that brought pain and a known ache in his heart.

For Thawfrost was there. Again. The ancient tom was young once more, he could feel his blood running through his veins, the strength on his legs that urged him to run. The scents around him should have made him cheerful, but he was back at that same place, exactly at that time. The time it all ended for the juvenile Thawfrost. He tried forgetting it, erasing it from his mind, but his memories who had been deeply buried were rising back to life recurrently.

Slowly turning his head, his frosty blue eyes following slightly to look at the skies. It was night dark, and black shadows began to move toward a wide clearing. Thawfrost padded slowly toward a high ridge. The stars, covered by clouds, allowed the moon to shine brighter than ever on this judgment day.

Suddenly to broad shoulder tom spotted something that turned this memory reality. Her. The big black she-cat, with cruelty burning on her yellow eyes. She stood on the high rock, her pelt shiny like the rising moon behind her. Her clanmates strangely laughed at her, spreading wide grins over their faces. Thawfrost felt his heart burn, something was wrong. He couldn't quite catch what was the piece left to complete his puzzle, but he knew something was deeply inaccurate on that scene. He dodged the shadows who looked over at their leader to take a better look. And there it was.

Suddenly he spotted a dead tiny body on the ridge, drenched in its own pool of blood. But the colors of its pelt were still visible. It was a little yellowish and brown she-kit that he recognized right away. "Ebonykit! My own, one and only kit!" he yelped, but before he could move. A painted red furred she-cat leaped at the cruel, black leader. "Sagefeather!" His heart melted as he remembered his first and last love. But he knew what was coming, today was the day of Sagefeather's death.

Ebonykit was the couple's only child, a she-kit as strange as a bird with a fluffy tail. Their kit had been born with a physical deformity, her leg was pushed sideways. But It was still usable, for the she-kit could walk and run as any other kit. But it did look strange to other cats who wouldn't, couldn't accept someone who was not physically perfect, or "correct" as they would say.

However, it had happened before, when the black cruel leader still had nine lives and was in love. In love in one of her warriors. She had birthed three healthy kits. But that one last kit had been cursed with a twisted front paw that made him weaker and slower than his littermates. Back then the cruel leader was soft and forgiving, holding all her clanmates love within her heart, but after the cursed one, Fernstar had become bitter and twisted. Moons before the birth of her kits, she was caught slaying her own son, who's limp paw would force him to become a medicine cat. But none of her warriors were brave enough to stand up to her, and ever since the cursed one, Ebonykit's parents preferred to keep their child a secret.

But now it was too late, Thawfrost had lived and relived that exact moment of Ebonykit's death because of her deformity. And now Sagefeather was battling with Fernstar as the cruel leader sliced her flank open, hitting that exact wound already harmed on that pointy rock. Her last cry was heard ranging from the walls of the camp, the cats finally fell in silence, mourning for the great warrior.

But Fernstar wasn't done yet, she turned to her warriors, yelling a battle cry, vowing she would never let Thunderclan weaken itself from the burdens of deformity in weak bloodlines. Thawfrost couldn't move, he was eager to stretch his claws, feel his muscles flexing and run to defy Fernstar in a battle. But his paws felt frozen on the ground, his vision clouding.

Catching his thoughts back to the meadow, Thawfrost returned to the place he called home. He wasn't young anymore, for he could feel muscles aching, and a disabled, disturbed mind. He was the only one who had to live with the burden of his clan, the cruel leader Fernstar. Then, out of the blue, flying objects caught his eyes. Red and White petals danced in the breeze, bonded to the wind. The charming red and white leaflets were slow but graceful, matching each flop and twist as if they knew the breeze would be over soon. Giving their last turns, they landed. Some neatly, some messy, but each of the rose petals had a fine end, brushing on Thawfrost paw's, who reflected deeply on the little leaf alike petals. Farewell Sagefather and Ebonykit, your fight is over. May we meet again in Starclan.