Warriors || Rose's Path

Chapter 25

       Thunder rolled in a low growl in the dark gray sky. White flashes of lightning hung in the sky. Rain poured down, making the earth slippery with peaty mud. Roseblossom shuddered at the crack of thunder. Cats tumbled around her, yowling with the rage of battle. They were on the ThunderClan border, fighting for their lives.
       Crystalflame led the patrol with Addertuft, Oliveclaw, Mallowfall, Roseblossom, Quietpaw,  and Flamepath. The ThunderClan patrol consisted of Littlefrost, Sparkspots, Robincloud, Deerpetal, Icepaw, and Doestar herself. Even though WindClan outnumbered them, ThunderClan were at a higher advantage: they had their leader, who would willingly give all her lives to fight for her Clan.
       A terrified screech sounded to Roseblossom's left. Fur brushed against her as fighting cats tumbled past. Roseblossom searched frantically for the cat crying out, hoping it wasn't one of her own Clanmates.
       Something opened inside her stomach, a vast void, when she spotted the cat whom had been yowling in alarm. A ginger tabby lay at the bank of the stream, huddled over in pain. A long gash wound along his hind leg. He staggered, trying to fight the tortoiseshell cat that stood over him.
       Flamepath's eyes were glazed with fierce loyalty. Roseblossom stood frozen to the ground. She didn't want to cause anymore bloodshed. She wanted peace within the Clans. Crystalflame must have seen it too, because she tried to go to Flamepath's aid, but was blocked by Littlefrost.
       Sparkspots moved quickly, slashing at Flamepath. He stumbled backwards into the stream. Roseblossom stood, gaping at the scene. She caught sight of her ginger apprentice boldly lunging after his father, swiftly and silently. But it was too late.
      Sparkspots held him under. Flamepath's head went under the surface. His legs lashed wildly, before slowing down to a stop. Roseblossom felt tears sting her eyes as something caught in her throat. Quietpaw stopped in his tracks. Sparkspots moved away from Flamepath's body, leaving Quietpaw alone.
       Quietpaw gazed down at his father. As quiet as the young tom usually was, he broke down, letting out a wail of despair. Roseblossom knew as soon as it happened that Flamepath, even though a kittypet, had been one of the most loyal of all to WindClan. She was absolutely sure he would be welcomed in StarClan.
Thunder cracked again. Roseblossom squinted, struggling to see through the thickening downpour. Fur brushed past her as a ThunderClan cat scampered through the mud. They were retreating. Although WindClan had won this skirmish, both Clans seemed at loss.
Roseblossom searched for her Clanmates, stomach fluttering when she saw them gathered near the top of the rise. She bounded towards them, slowing her pace in anxiety. Only Crystalflame, Addertuft, Oliveclaw, and Mallowfall were huddled together. Addertuft raced forwards, smothering Roseblossom in a flurry of licks. She purred.
"I thought that you..." Addertuft smiled with faint joy. She thought that I died.
Roseblossom became suddenly aware of her Clanmates gazing solemnly over the battle field; she became aware of how terrible the tensions had become between the Clans around the lake. The rain started to thin, revealing to Roseblossom her worst worries. The vision of her dreams had seemed to become reality. Two ThunderClan warriors lay close to them, unmoving. A pang of guilt shot through Roseblossom. A gray tabby she-cat, Littlefrost, lay close to a small white she-cat, Icepaw. She had been so young. Roseblossom couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness for Icepaw. She never got to receive her warrior name.
Flamepath lay on the bank of the stream. His ginger pelt was stained with crimson blood. Roseblossom's heart lurched as she gazed closer, and she stumbled. Some cat pressed against her, though she didn't pay attention to whom; she couldn't peel her eyes from the small, motionless, ginger body that was lain over his father, who which he looked so much like.
Roseblossom dipped her head, pain and sadness opening up inside her. Quietpaw was dead; and the last thing he had done was pull his father's lifeless body from the cold grasp of the tumbling torrent of water.