Last Breaths
Author's Note: I have always wondered what happened to the elders that stayed behind while the clans left to the lake. Since I am a fan of Frostfur, I decided to write my idea of what happened to her.
Frostfur padded through the ruins slowly, her paws hitting the bare ground. She groggily lifted her head up and tried to gaze around. She couldn't, though. It was hard to imagine walking around in a barren wasteland like this. She gave a heavy sigh and continued walking until she reached what was left of Riverclan's territory. The river that ran through the territory was now black, dark and polluted. She stopped there and gazed into it. She saw nothing. Just blackness. Darkness. Filth.
She took another breath and tried to leap over the river, somehow successful as she began her trek again. She could still hear the terrifying roars of the tree-eaters and screams of two legs, shouting orders to each other.
She reached the moors of Windclan. Right next to her on her side, were the remains of the great four oaks that clans used to gather at every full moon. They all lay in a pile, and no one would even know those trees used to proudly stand above the forest as a symbol of power and peace. She slowly climbed over to the trees.
"This… is awful." she panted, looking up at the darkened sky. "It's better I just die here then walk this land anymore." She slowly began to lay down on the old bark, ignoring the pain of splinters that pierced her once snowy white pelt.
She slowly heaved her last breath as her blue eyes closed, her body falling as her spirit travelled to Starclan.