The silence is almost eerie, she thinks. After the screams and noise of battle, the clans are nearly silent as they lick their wounds and count the dead. Mistyfoot knows that she should have seen the medicine cat already- her shoulder is bleeding freely, and she thinks she may have sprained her paw- but she cannot rest while Riverclan warriors lay dead on the ground. A long line of wounded cats surrounds Barkface already; he has enough to keep his paws busy. Mistyfoot sees Shadepelt coming in her direction and moves away. She loves her friend, but she doesn't think she can talk to anyone right now.
Mistyfoot's gaze sweeps the battlefield. Among the bodies, there's a horrible kind of equality; clan cats lie with rogues, bloodclan cats- easily distinguished by their fang-studded collars- are curled next to their victims. Some died with their claws still sunk into their enemies. The sight is chilling, and for a moment, Mistyfoot's blood runs cold. But she is a warrior, and this is not her first battle, so she forces down the bile and walks among the corpses. She honestly has no idea what they'll do with the bodies of the enemy- never in living memory has there been a battle like this before- but she cannot find it within herself to care.
Whatever they do with Bloodclan's dead, they must bury their own first. Most of her clanmates are still in shock, and do not seem up to the task of searching for the lifeless bodies of those they grew up with, but Mistyfoot can't let her kin lie with foxhearted murderers any longer. Some other cats apparently have the same idea, as four or five of the wounded living walk among the dead.
The first clan cat Mistyfoot comes to is a small grey she-cat she doesn't recognize, smelling strongly of Windclan. The she-cat's face is still curled in a snarl, her yellow eyes glassy in death. Sprawled atop her is an enormous speckled rogue cat, still stinking of monsters and Twolegs. Mistyfoot carelessly shoves the rogue off, pauses to gently nudge the she-cat into a more comfortable position, and moves on. That is all she can do for now; one of the dead cat's clanmates will see to her later.
Mistyfoot's mental tally of Riverclan's dead has reached two warriors and one apprentice when she hears her name called out. Since the last Bloodclan cats fled, no one has spoken in a voice above a whisper, as if afraid that doing so would somehow disrespect the dead. Mistyfoot looks up and sees Blackfoot, Shadowclan's former deputy- leader, now that Tigerstar is dead- picking his way around the bodies toward her. A vicious, ugly feeling flares up inside her; this cat supported Brokenstar the first time around, and Tigerstar the second; he shares in the blame for this battle, and there is still the matter of what he's done to her. How dare he have the nerve to approach her now, Mistyfoot quietly seethes.
"Mistyfoot," he says. The arrogant foxheart stands in front of her without even the bare decency to look ashamed. His expression is completely unreadable, as Shadowclan cats tend to be, but she sees a flicker of something else behind his amber eyes.
Mistyfoot lifts her head proudly. Tired as she is, she will lay down and die right now before she lowers herself to showing weakness in front of other clans. "Blackfoot," she returns evenly. "What do you want?"
The other warrior looks about as bad as she feels. A nasty gash above his eye is still seeping red, and the underside of his coat is so filthy and matted it looks like he'd waded through a river of blood. His eyes meet hers for a moment, then slide away, as if afraid of what he might find there. "I wanted-" he begins, and stops. Mistyfoot narrows her eyes. What is he playing at? she wonders. Before she can continue that thought, he appears to draw himself together and continues.
"Stonefur was a brave cat," Blackfoot says, still refusing to look directly at her. "I... regret what had to be done."
Mistyfoot stares at him. Is this an apology? If so, it's a frog-dirt poor one. "What had to be done?" she repeats slowly, trying to quell the surge of anger she feels at his words. "I was under the impression that you killed him on Tigerstar's command."
Blackfoot continues speaking, apparently to the ground. "It was my duty. He defied his leader, both Tigerstar and Leopardstar ordered-"
"-to kill apprentices?" Mistyfoot finishes. Her temper, never very docile at the best of times, is at its breaking point now.
"Tigerstar was my leader and he gave me an order. I was bound to my duty to follow it. Stonefur's death was an unfortunate consequence."
The tide of sheer, unmitigated fury overwhelms her. "The death of my brother," she says. "Who died by your paw, defending two apprentices- barely out of kithood, innocent of any crime comitted by their parents- was an unfortunate consequence of your lack of a spine." She's hissing the words by now, tail lashing across the bloodstained ground. She hasn't had the time to properly grieve Stonefur before now, what with Tigerstar's takeover and then the frantic preparations for the battle with Scourge, and Blackfoot's words have reopened wounds she'd ignored before now. The gaping hole within her, left by the death of her littermate, opens wide to swallow her.
No, not now, I can't break down here- "You should have refused!" she snarls, desperately seizing her anger to drown out the wail of despair she feels clawing its way up her throat. "He was innocent! You knew that! His death was against every law in the code, but you killed him anyway. Why? For recognition, for glory, because you truly believed he deserved death? You weren't content to follow one tyrant into depravity; no, you had to do it all twice! You murdered my brother for his parentage, but here you are, begging a half-clanner's forgiveness. What does that make you?"
He's staring at her with wide eyes, defenses thrown by her fury. Had he really not expected this? Did he think she would just meekly roll over, accept his weak apology, and move on? If so, he knows nothing, Mistyfoot thinks viciously. He needs to feel, for even a heartbeat, a fraction of the pain he's put her through.
"You're pathetic," Mistyfoot continues. "A traitor to the clans, a murderer of the innocent- Stonefur was ten times the warrior you'll ever be. You obeyed Tigerstar's every word to save your own sorry skin. Better to die loyal to the code than live a snake-hearted coward, Blackfoot."
His eyes flare with anger. "You think you understand anything?" he growls, looming over her. Unfortunately for him, she's too mad to be intimidated right now. "I believed I was doing what was best for my clan. Tigerstar said your kind would betray us for your birth clan-"
"My kind?" Mistyfoot interrupts. "So I'm still inferior, still not a true warrior?"
"You did!" he hisses. "You did turn, he was right-"
"I was dying!" she all but screams. "I could barely walk! Tigerstar was a monster, but you support him even now! After all he did-"
"My clan was dying! The sickness decimated Shadowclan, the leader and deputy were dead, but Tigerstar saved us! Shadowclan would be dead without him!"
"He saved you and doomed everyone else in the process," she growls. "Maybe he should've left you to die. How many cats would still be alive if he had?"
Blackfoot rears back, mouth gaping. Insulting his precious clan, apparently, is enough to shut him up.
"Bluestar. Gorsepaw. Everyone who died today. Stonefur," Mistyfoot whispers into the ensuing silence. Her voice cracks on her brother's name. "My brother would be alive. But he's not, because you killed him. I don't know what you why you even bothered talking to me. Go back to your precious clan, Blackfoot. You don't deserve the name of a warrior."
Blackfoot stands up, amber eyes now void of emotion, and walks away. Mistyfoot watches him leave and feels only emptiness.