So, here is another ImagineClan challenge! This one is short, but pretty powerful in my opinion. Hope you all like it, and please review!
Clouds swarmed the evening sky, filling the camp with pure darkness. Not the normal darkness of the night, but this tangible blackness, so thick they could feel it. It pouring into the camp, smothering their clearing and dens. The stars had vanished, leaving the cats unprotected, abandoned by their ancestors. It was a feeling of pure terror to be sitting on guard on this cruel, dark, night.
Grayfeather sat alone, searching through her thoughts. The day had been so harsh already, and she wished that she could be in the safety of her warm moss nest. She had ran and hunted to her limit, and now was stuck staying awake when she should be resting. No one else was awake, and she longed to talk with a Clanmate, or do anything to keep her mind away from the darkness that swallowed her. Only the faintest outline of her silhouette showed to any nearby creature that she even existed. The forest was at ease.
She turned her head around to groom, right between her shoulders, but it was the wrong moment. Something rustled the bushed and brambles that surrounded the camp, then another. Soon the whole ring of plants around her was shaking violently back and forth. Grayfeather whipped around, quickly getting on her paws. She was guarding the camp, and she could not let them down.
"Who is there?" she demanded, trying to make her smooth voice sound tough and threatening. "Show yourselves."
It was the wrong call to make. Soon, WindClan warriors poured into the camp, cloaked in darkness so deep she could hardly see them. "Wake up everyone! WindClan is here! Invasion!" she screamed into the air, the frosted silence broken. "Help!"
Her shouts and cries were soon answered, several of her ThunderClan warriors appearing from their bramble den. She noticed Breezestorm, her sister, stretch her jaws into a wide yawn before seeing the battle. She then leaped into action, attacking a warrior whose black pelt was invisible in the night. Grayfeather wished she could just watch, but she was soon mauled by an incoming warrior. She was knocked to the ground in a fury of spitting fangs and wriggling bodies.
Grayfeather couldn't recognize the WindClan warrior in the darkness, only seeing a pair of bright orange eyes shining, and faint scraps of light dance on the cat's sharpened claws. The cat lunged forward, Grayfeather sidestepping the attack. The warrior landed hard on the ground beside her, and, seizing her chance, Grayfeather attacked with her claws unsheathed.
Her claw sunk deep into the warrior's shoulder, as she twisted her body to sing her teeth into the attacker's back. Grayfeather then slipped off, as the WindClan warrior aimed a blow at her ears. Then Grayfeather kicked out her legs, knocking the warrior to the ground. With a final swipe the the opponent's face, Grayfeather send the warrior screaming into the forest.
Grayfeather gazed around the pitch-black camp. Everything was a jumble of scents and noises, so bad that she had to navigate by almost touch alone. She stumbled forward, instantly noticing Breezestorm nearby. She turned to fight alongside her sister, this time against a large WindClan tom with green eyes that glowed faintly in the darkness. She aimed a jump, pouncing forward.
But something wasn't right. In mid-air, she hear an ear-splitting shriek echo through the camp. Grayfeather's fur bristled, her pelt puffing up.
"WindClan, retreat!" she heard someone call. Instantly the camp was emptied of the invading warriors. ThunderClan sat in silence, enveloped in darkness. Grayfeather smelled blood, rich and dark, dripping to the ground. Alarmed, she began to search for the source. The medicine cat, Finchwing, was hurriedly moving from cat to cat. The battle was short, but the damage had been great.
The clouds that covered the moon slowly slipped away, revealing the entire camp. "Breezestorm!" She called into the dim camp. There was no response. "Breezestorm?" Then she saw her sister.
Breezestorm was in a lump of the ground, blood oozing from her pelt. Her limbs stuck out from odd angles, and her normally tabby-striped cream-colored fur was painted silver in the moonlight. Instantly Grayfeather knew something was wrong. She ran to her sister.
"Breezestorm, talk to me!" she cried into the darkness where her sister lay. Grayfeather carefully turned her sister's body over, flinching at the unearthly chill. She saw it on the fur on her sister's throat. Breezestorm had been murdered in battle. f this was on purpose, whoever killed her had broken the Warrior Code. No one needed to kill to win, yet they had.
But, strangely, Grayfeather didn't feel any pain or guilt. The happy memories from her and her sister together as kits, apprentices, and warriors rolled through her mind. They were fresh and joyous to her weakened mind. Soon she was completely lost in her memories.
As a kit, she had thought that her mother and father had been real, true parents. Her father was a great warrior, her mother looked up to. But things had never been right. But things got out of hand. They began to torment her and her sister. When they were naughty as kits or apprentices, they were take behind the nursery and were beaten. Grayfeather still had the scars from her 'mother's' claws on her stomach, as she dragged them down onto Grayfeather's helpless kit body.
But there it had been. One day, moons after being made warriors, Breezestorm and Grayfeather had learned the truth that had been held against them for so long. It was not these abusive parents who she had believed for so long that she was born to, but another. They found their real mother, a kind, sweet, and gentle loner. She had joined ThunderClan after much hard work. Grayfeather had become whole.
Their real mother was a beauty, always kind to those around her and caring. Breezedtorm had become just like her, loved b all the Clan despite her flaws. Grayfeather loved both so much.
"Go, be with mother. You have earned it," she whispered into her sister's pelt. "And say hello to her for me."
The other cats soon joined her, some with cobwebs wrapped on their flanks and faces, some still with open wounds. They all tried to comfort her with soothing words, But Grayfeather was the least bit sad. Breezestorm was where she and Grayfeather wanted her to be.