A/N: This is my first fanfic, so don't expect it to be perfect. Constructive criticism is accepted, please don't flame.
Discalmer: I do not own Warriors, the Erin Hunters do.
Bluestar's POV
Looking up I see my two living kits, Mistyfoot and Stonefur. I felt all my strength seeping away from me. Forgive me. Blackness blurred my thoughts and stars spun around me.
In what seemed like moons I saw a silhouette of white fur with black splotches. Mosskit! The deceased young kit nudged me up. My voice was trapped in my throat as I tried to talk. "It's okay, mother, follow me," Mosskit mewed. I got up, looking down at my starry paws, and rushed after the young kit. Before I gotten my bearings an oak wood forest loomed over me, and I saw two young kits playing with each other, one being white and the other being blue-gray, fur still kitten soft.
Is that, me? And Snowfur?
I suddenly felt rain pouring down on my fur and I notice the forest starts to dim, expanding into large moor. My paws carried me over to what seemed like the Windclan camp, and somehow not being noticed by Windclan cats, I see a gray figure limp on the ground, with the same blue-gray and white she-cats standing over the limp body. M-moonflower… A soft voice echoed in my mind, My sweet.
The moor dimmed and my paws carried me to the border between Riverclan and Thunderclan. Then, I saw him. Oakheart. A younger version of myself, yet older than the bue-gray kit, looking mottled at this tom's handsome build. I felt shame burn in my pelt as I saw Oakheart.
Before I could grasp the thought, I was brought to a thunder-path. The white kit, much older now, stood on the black stone of the thunder-path. Before the cat could move she was struck by a monster, and I felt my heart crack as the younger version of me tried to help the white she-cat. You can't help her. That thought resonated in my mind until I was dragged into another memory.
Oakheart and I were under the Fourtrees, and we were sleeping side by side. My pelt burnt. I broke the warrior code, I have to deal with it.
Suddenly a storm of snow surrounded me. Great Starclan no! The blue-gray she-cat was struggling against the swirling winds. Suddenly the smallest one, a white little she-cat with black splotches, fell into the snow, going limp. The blue-gray she-cat rushed to the kit's side, but I knew it was too late.
Standing near the twolegs' dens, a fire coloured young tom followed a large yellow ginger tom, a young gray tabby and the older version of the blue-gray she-cat.
Before she could move, she saw a large brown cat with a bent tail and a tabby figure. She felt a rush of fury rise in her. Tigerclaw! They were attacking at the camp, and a ginger tom was fighting fiercely.
The Thunderclan camp was burning. Embers lashed at the dens ad every cat rushed to the Sunning rocks. I looked around and saw the ginger tom holding a tabby kit, and a gray ragged cat, struggling to help and elder.
Suddenly she saw a group of mutts rushing after the ginger tom, and the blue-gray she-cat slashed at the dogs, but the she-cat collapsed downward into the gorge. Suddenly a voice echoed in her head, Water will destroy you. Her eyes widened. Goosefeather was always right! Water enclosed over her. Suddenly three gazes turned on her. Two blue and one amber. A voice echoed in her head, Welcome, Bluestar.
Well? How was that? I will take requests for cats you want me to show their journey to Starclan. Remember this is my first fic, so be don't be to rough on me. Constructive criticism accepted!