(V.2!)

This is technically the Sequel to 'Struggle', but you don't need to read it to understand this story. I've rewritten this, and cleaned it up a little (lot). Things have and will change, but the story is still pretty much the same and hopefully better. Enjoy.

[note: I do not own warriors. This is a fan made work, and will always be.]

The frigid air mingled with snowflakes drifting slowly to the ground. One by one they fell, dancing, the ground growing white. It was dark- the moon and stars covered by thick gray clouds. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, the sound lost in the wind.

Ravenpaw shivered. He was unable to sleep, but wasn't ready to leave the warmth of his friend's fur. He sighed and pushed into the black and white tom.

I should sleep, he told himself, I need- his thoughts were interrupted by a cough from his elderly companion.

"Are you alright, Barley?" asked the black tom.

Barley yawned, "it was only a cough, go back to sl-" cough "eep."

The black cat nodded and relaxed. It was nothing, he told himself, cat's coughed all the time. He closed his eyes, finally giving to sleep.

"Ravenpaw…" croaked a voice, startling him awake. With a yawn he looked toward Barley- and turned away again. The old tom was surrounded in sick.

"Barley! What happened?" Ravenpaw's eyes widened, what was wrong with his friend?

Barley didn't answer, he was too busy vomiting.

"I… you… I'll get you some water," Ravenpaw meowed, dashing from the barn, only to find himself swallowed up by snow.

"Fox dung!" swore the black cat, shaking snow from his whiskers. Carefully he took a step foreword, if he was careful and stepped lightly he could walk across the snow. How will I bring back water in this weather? he wondered, growing frustrated. The twolegs usually left a bowl out by the barn, but it would have frozen over. The dogs? No they would probably have been brought in for the night. He swore again, looking around the snowy landscape. Perhaps he could get Barley to lick the snow. It was worth a shot.

He slowly padded back to the barn, by the time he got back his paws ached with cold. Barley had fallen asleep, his frail body quivering.

Ravenpaw decided not to bother him, the snow would still be there when he woke up. Silently the black tom curled into a ball, and drifted back to sleep.

The sun was peaking through the clouds, when he woke. Barley was still sleeping, he looked almost normal. Ravenpaw decided to go for a walk. The twolegs would have plowed the roads, and Barley needed rest. He tried to think back to his days in ThunderClan: what would Spottedleaf have done? He couldn't remember, it had been so long ago... Sighing, he pushed through the barn door.

He didn't have to go far to reach the cleared ThunderPath, it would be dangerous to walk along, but he needed to clear his head. Dodging monsters would make a fine distraction from Barley's dea- illness. Barley wasn't dieing! He couldn't be!

He is old, meowed a nagging voice in his head. It's a wonder he's made it this far!

Barley couldn't die, he just… couldn't. What would Ravenpaw do on his own? Ever since he had left the clans, he'd been afraid of being alone. He had never considered a time without…

The black cat narrowly dodged a car, he'd have to pay more attention. He wasn't even sure where he was… the air tasted familiar, but his surroundings didn't match the scent. He was in a twoleg neighborhood, but it seemed different. Mounds of dirt were oddly placed, and the ground ripped apart. Nests that were completed looked new. Patches of trees were clustered in odd places. Startled he realized he had wandered to his old territory. Ripped apart and made into… this. It had been years since he had lived here.

The cat was so busy in his reminiscing that he failed to notice the dog looming near-by. A skinny thing, its fur matted and dirty. It drew closer, eyes lighting up. A chase… a chance to have some fun.

Ravenpaw jumped, arching his back. The dog was close, mere feet away, and he stood frozen in terror. Move! he told himself. Move, move, move!

He swung into action a fraction of a second too late, as the dog bit down on his leg. His eyes narrowed, claws unsheathing. He twisted and swiped down the dogs nose. It yelped, relaxing its grip enough for the cat to slip away. Ravenpaw swiped again, for good measure, wrenching his legs from its mouth. He hissed as he darted from the scene, almost enjoying himself.

The cat panted, pausing to examine him leg. That won't be healing soon! he thought. I'm getting too old for this kind of thing!

His brain snapped back to action, the mutt could be following him. He glanced behind him, but things seemed to be safe.

Next problem: He had no clue where he was. He surveyed the area, he was on a road that had just been plowed. The snow was shallow, not enough to cover his paws. It had stopped falling, but not soon enough to prevent his from finding his pawprints. He had to get home to Barley. Why had he left in the first place?

He gulped, starring at the paws that had carried him here. His heart leapt when he saw a barely visible print, he could follow, at least partially. He carefully limped along, oblivious the fact this wasn't his trail. His own trail lay in the other direction, still noticeable to the careful eye.

Her green eyes, once brilliant, were dull and heavy with sorrow. Lifeless. Her fur, once thick and shiny, was now matted and patchy. Life had not served the cat well. She was broken, physically and mentally. A wanderer with no home. She gave the appearance of a much older cat. She was skinny. Her ears were ripped by scars, her gait slowed by a limp.

A mess.

One wrong step and she wouldn't have the strength to go on. Not that there was a point.

She was hardly aware of the snow. She shut it out, because snow could only mean bad things. It was snowing when her world fell apart. Now it would snow when her world ended. She welcomed death, it would be a relief. Loner's don't go to StarClan, right?

It had been a year.

A year.

And here she was. A broken little cat with nowhere to go. She had reached the end of her road.

She slipped.

This was not the right way, decided Ravenpaw. The trail ended at on a bridge, one he had certainly not crossed earlier. He looked at the prints, only to discover they were much smaller than his own.

Stupid! he thought. He could he just be noticing?

The bridge was old and wooden, meant as a walking path for twolegs. It was in the woods, a small patch of clan life left standing. This had been RiverClan's territory, he realized. He looked over the edge, the water was frozen over. It was pretty, almost calming. He knew where he was now. Not far from home.

Then something caught his eye, a small black shape. Was this who had left the trail leading here?

"Hello!" He called out.

Nothing.

"You alright?"

The animal didn't move. It seemed twisted, crumpled.

Without hesitation he hopped off the bridge, wincing as he hit the ground. It wasn't a far fall, but for someone unprepared it could be fatal. He scratched at the ice, trying to hold himself up while he limped toward the shape. Now that he was up close he could tell it was feline. A she-cat. She was black, her fur was long and unkempt. Her leg was twisted in an impossible way, and her breath shallow. He nudged her, but she made no move.

Ravenpaw wasn't a medicine cat, he had no idea how to help Barley, and now he had no idea how to help this twisted mound of fur. She was unconscious, and he was injured, and Barley…

He let out a yowl of anger, it was all too much! He couldn't help anyone, but he couldn't let them die, either. He sighed and grabbed the cat's scruff. This would be a long walk home.

Demons dragged at her, pulling her apart, ripping. She was limp- lifeless. Through narrowed eyes she saw a shadow of a cat. An evil spirit dragging her away. This was it then.

The she cat slipped in and out of consciousness, her shattered mind unable to focus. When she was at her most sentient, her head pounded and ached. Several times she cried out, before falling back into her dreams.

The demons faded, she was alone in the dark. At her paws was a reflection of her old self. Unscarred, beautiful. She reached out, her paw slicing through the air. The reflection mimicked her movement. She stood. The reflection stood, now beside her. She stepped foreword, but her paw didn't touch the ground. Her reflection grinned as it pushed her down.

She fell.

Ravenpaw was exhausted by the time he reached the barn. It was nearing dark, he had been gone all day. The she cat hadn't stirred the whole journey. He felt ready to collapse, but his worry over Barley won out. His worry had proven justified, as when he searched the barn he found the old cat huddled in the back of the barn. He was hot to the touch, but shivered uncontrollably.

"R-Ravenpaw?" he mewed shakily.

The black tom licked his ear, "I'm here."

A shudder rippled through Barley, he didn't reply. Ravenpaw's heart fluttered, but settled as he saw the old cat's chest rise.

His whiskers drooped as he whispered, "what am I going to do?"

"I can help," purred a voice from behind him.

He twisted, surprised to find the she cat had dragged herself over to him. Instead of feeling relief, a wave of anger swept over him. "Oh yeah?" he hissed, "how do you plan on that?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth, but she turned away and sighed. She lay back down and refused to look at him.

He softened. She was, after all, only trying to help. "My name is Ravenpaw," he offered, "and my friend needs all the help he can get."

She didn't look at him.

"I'm just so torn up. Barley is my friend, my best friend. He's so old though… I don't know if he can get past this. I've always run from my problems, but now-"

"You have to face them?" she finished, looking blankly at him.

He nodded.

She sighed, and pushed herself up. He back leg hung awkwardly as she forced herself over to the elderly tom. Ravenpaw jumped up to help, but she glared at him and he sat back down.

She sniffed over him, prodding now and again. After what seemed an eternity she looked up. "He has a fever," she announced. "We can't do anything."

Ravenpaw could hardly resist yowling at her. Instead, through bared teeth. he let out an "I could have told you that."

"What do you want me to do?" she meowed, "he has a fever, I have no herbs. Everything's frozen! Want me to wish him better? I don't have that kind of power…" she trailed off and turned her attention back to the sick tom. "I don't think anyone can help him now… he's in the paws of Starcl-" she squealed and shook her head "fate! He's in the paws of fate."

Ravenpaw grinned, could she really be a clan cat? Then… they were still around? Though if this cat was any example, they had disbanded… or worse? What was she doing here? Questions bit as his head. For the time being Barley was pushed to the back of his mind. He wanted answers. "Tell me what's your name?"

She sighed.

"C'mon," he prompted.

"My name is…" she gulped, "my name is Hollyleaf."