Note: I do not own warriors or naruto, credits to kishi and erin

Crowmask felt a surge of burning horror and shock as his claws slid across the chest of another cat, drawing blood from a deep gash.

The young warrior stumbled backwards, the awkward king he had thrown had brought him off balance. He felt his paws slip on the cesspool of blood and dirt below him.

Brown fur.

There was brown fur between his claws. How? The enemy he had struck at was a dark grey tabby.

A slow gurgle of red liquid drained from the lips of the brown she-cat ahead of him.

His former denmate.

His comrade.

The ThunderClan medicine cat's eyes glazed over. "Cr...Crowmask," She whispered, before crumbling to the ground beneath her.

The world began to spin around Crowmask, the wind and the rain became a blur of gray and blue. Black splotches began to cloud his vision. The gray tom heard a strange sound nearby. The wail of another cat? The young tom lost his balance on his paws and felt his body fall forward as his mind slipped into cool blackness.

A shrill wail sounded from the mouth of a scarred black tom. Instinctively, his claws slid out and his lips pulled back into an enraged snarl.

The young cat had never been that brilliant of a warrior, he had shown poor skill in both hunting and fighting.

But it was different now.

Snowfield had been his best friend. More than that, he had loved her since they were kits.

She couldn't be dead. There was no way in this world.

The big black warrior tore through the Patrol of RiverClan warriors, brutally ripping at each one's flesh. All rational though had escaped his mind for the time being.

Snowfield had acknowledged him when no other cat would. Snowfield believed in him when no other cat did.

He lunged directly on one tom. Pinning the other cat down, the black warrior pummeled his face until it was reduced to a bloody pulp.

Snowfield had always his patient with him. Snowfield had always encouraged his dreams of being clan leader.

The ThunderClan warrior ripped apart the opposing patrol and continued his ripping and tearing and pummeling.

Beautiful, intelligent Snowfield.

The young warrior halted after swiftly snapping the neck of the last RiverClan cat. Blood pooled at his paws, bodies littered the ground.

Young, wise Snowfield.

The body of the brown tabby she-cat was only a few tail lengths ahead of him. Slowly, he advanced toward it, paying no attention to the unconscious Crowmask.

"I...I get it," his breath became shallow and uneven, "This is it. This is the Place of No Stars."