FlightClan challenge! Only the non-bold part is the actual word count. Warrior: 900.

I never saw it coming. What's that noise around the meadow? What are those footsteps coming, but never passing by? What would happen if I take one more step? What will happen when I reach my final battle? What do I have to live for?

Nothing.

It was cold. And dark. And I was afraid.

But there was a light to. Shining, bright in the distant night.

I never saw him coming. I didn't know where to hide. Was I to run? Die? Fight? Flee? Cower?

My pleas. My beautifully crafted, full of hope, pleas. This was it. This is my final bow.

"Who's there?" I called, but only received silence. "Hello?"

"Hello, Breezefeather," his voice was deep like the impending storm.

"Oh, Oakfoot, it's just you," I tried to not sound relieved, but I couldn't help myself.

"Will you just shut up for once in your life? All I ever hear from you is the constant blabbing. Blah, blah, blah, well I'm sick of it! Totally sick of it!" Oakfoot's growl came from deep within.

Holding my breath, I turned to face him. "What do you want?"

"Many things," the tom stated. "I want you to be-" he was cut off.

A low groan sounded from across the field. To me, I saw only one thing: hope. Swallowing my pride, I took one last look at Oakfoot. I am Breezefeather. I do not cower in front of silly little warriors. Oops, there goes my pride again.

"Scared?" Oakfoot sneered.

"No!" that was me, as rebellious as always.

I could feel Oakfoot roll his eyes.

"Well," he snapped, "Do you know what that was?"

"No,"

"Do you know what that means?"

"No,"

"Do you know who it is?"

"No,"

"You really are as mouse-brained as the elders say," Oakfoot sneered.

"What do the elders say?" I asked, suddenly worried that kits were getting the wrong impression of me.

"Oh, not much," the tom tugged at a blade of grass thoughtfully, "Just that you are a coward, a traitor, and a liar,"

What? How dare they? Don't they know that I, Breezefeather, am a totally capable warrior? If anyone's to be spreading rumors, it's me.

"Well, do you know what the leader's been saying about you?" I shot back.

"No,"

"Do you want to?" I could sense him stiffening, wanting to know, but not wanting to know at the same time.

"….Fine…"

"He said that you are the traitor, coward and liar," my tail waved around, "And do you want to know why?"

"Why?"

I smirked into the endless pitch black of the night sky, "Because you are describing yourself,"

"What?" Oakfoot's confused aura radiated around him.

"Exactly," I stated, "Mouse-brained. Impulsive. Traitorous. A liar. A coward,"

"How dare you?" the fur on the back of Oakfoot's spine bristled.

That low groan echoed once more in the darkness beyond even twilight.

"To the end?" I inquired.

"To the end," Oakfoot agreed.

Streaking across the empty field, Oakfoot and I looked ahead. It was bleak, miserable, mysterious, ominous, eerie….senseless.

I remember nothing. Blinded by a flash of light, I crashed into Oakfoot; the tom squawked in surprise before collapsing.

Looking back on that day, I laugh at how mouse-brained I was.

And I was right.

I remember wind. And light. But no hope. It was useless.

I was mowed down that night. Twolegs, despicable beings of agonizing torture.

As a refugee of death, I knew. My renegade was dead. My renegade.

I closed my eyes, expecting death.

But it didn't happen quite like that.

Yes, I died. I remember that well. The Twoleg monster had gotten us. Oakfoot was dead, but no, I wasn't.

The pain. It was overwhelming. I blacked out.

It was blacker than the blackest night. No stars. No welcoming. No…nothing.

But there was one thing. One thing that I looked for, yearned for: hope.

It was brighter than the brightest sun. StarClan.

If I died, why would I be here? Only a light to guide me.

But why was my future so bleak? All I could see was the dark, the cold, the torture, no love.

But that's life. Love and friendship will leave you but pain won't.

Pain clings to you like a thorn in your pelt. Never leaving, never dying. Just staying, irking the life out of me.

Does it always end this way?

Yes, yes it does.

Will you help me?

No, no one ever does.

Am I dead?

….Maybe…..

But I wasn't sure.

I always thought that death would let me escape the pain. The torture. I thought it would be blissful.

But no, nothing ever is.

And nothing ever will be.

Will you come with me? Can you see my shadow? Can you see my face? Can you see my eyes?

Nobody ever does. I wouldn't be surprised that they would bury Oakfoot and leave me to become some fox's meal.

I didn't want that. I didn't deserve an ending like that. But at the same time, I did.

I never saw it coming.

What's that noise around the meadow? What are those footsteps coming, but never passing by?

Hope.

Hope, right in your face, just out of reach.

To never be achieved. To be left alone in crimson beyond the blood flowing from my body.

The ball of light twisted into a cat. Oakfoot.

….Maybe there is a little hope after all.

Remember, only the non-bold words are the challenge. Review!