The Whispering Storm || A Warrior Cats Fanfiction

| chapter fifty two

From start to end, we're all in one race called life. Some start running before others and sprint as fast as they can to the very end while others take their time and enjoy the run before the finish line reaches their sight. All of us are running right now on this race, one where there is no winner or loser. We run side by side at different paces but all of us will end in the same place at the very end. No matter how much we deny it, we're all bound and destined to finish running one day. It's a fact about life and nobody's been able to avoid it. 

We have to take advantage of it while we can. Even if we were dealt with a bad hand, we have to push through and live. Do things and see the world because it's the only one we have. There's no way to rewrite the past or revisit in unless it's in our memories, so we have to accept what happens with our heads held high. Continue running even though we're out of breath. The end is our final warning, and we have to face it. 

What is waiting for us at the very end? 

X X X 

Honeypaw... Why didn't Beechpaw do anything?! Mothpaw thought from her position on the ground, coughing up chunks of blood. Beechpaw let out a cry and batted Daystar with his front paws weakly as Ripplestone took the rogue leader on, claws locked around each other. She looked at Honeypaw's limp body and scanned the field for Scarpaw but couldn't find the tom. Fighting against her nerves, she stood back up and was about to lunge forward when Cedarsky coughed, rolling on her good side, the wounds from Soulfrost stinging her pelt.

Through pain, the calico rogue gestured toward her leader, hissing, "If you want to beat her, you need the strength of five. She may only have one life left, so she fights tooth and nail, but that doesn't make her invincible. Even if she just wanted her home back... None of us 'chosen ones' ever wanted anything to do with it. Shatteredstar, Nettlestar, Jaggedstone, Soulfrost, and I... We never wanted anything to do with this." Cedarsky leaned over as her eyes began to flutter shut. Mothpaw held her breath and bared her fangs as the rogue ushered, "All I wanted was to sleep."

"Those are your last words?!" She snapped, letting her anger out on a dying cat. "Out of all the things to say you go down..." Mothpaw curled her claws in the dirt and roared, unleashing what little anger and annoyance she could towards the rogue. Cedarsky's sides began to relax, life slipping out as loud snores. The MeadowClan apprentice said and did nothing except stare at her paws, wishing that she could just dig a hole where she was and jump in it, sheltering her from the battle raging on and leafbare. 

She hung her head and let out a loud yowl, piercing the empty sky with her sorrowful cry, the walls shattering like glass as they cut into her ears, ringing an endless nightmare. Her family still fought with Daystar as she handled the warrior and apprentice, using Ripplestone's weight to her advantage as she swung a swipe at Beechpaw, bashing into his hind. He tripped and rolled, letting out a dangerous snarl. Cries of fallen cats rose to the sky and watched from above with their fears falling and crystallizing into the white snow that buried their homes. Blood encircled the camp, opening its wide mouth to swallow them up. Mothpaw gasped, staring at the snowy ground in horror, eyes shaking. 

Mountains of corpses rested among each other, the stench of death and gore rising and wrapping its foul scent around her neck, choking her. Glossy eyes open and staring at nothing, her own petrified expression reflecting in their blind eyes. Pelts soaked in one color of scarlet feathers, riding identities of the fallen ones. More cats fell into the opening, their screams and pleas of help being the last time she ever heard their voice. They fell like flies and hit the pile, adding another body to the toll, and the ones that stayed alive and on the edge cried out, reaching to help their friend. Some fell in and shouted for help, still alive when they hit the bottom, a mixture of pain and horror ruling their voice as they looked for assistance.