This is just a really short version of what I think really happened to Runningwind.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Warning: Character death

Another warning: Do not read unless you have read Rising Storm

The Final Hour

"Runningwind, you'll go on the eveningpatrol with Mousefur and Thornpaw," Fireheart instructed.

Runningwind nodded his head and padded off to tell Mousefur, who was sitting outside the warriors' den with a plump shrew. "We're to go on patrol this evening," Runningwind said. "Along with Thornpaw."

Mousefur swiped her tongue around her muzzle. "Good. I need to stretch my legs anyway. We've been cooped up in this camp too long."

Leaving the dusky brown warrior to finish her meal, Runningwind walked over to the fresh-kill pile, picking out a sparrow for himself. As he ate, he watched the cats Fireheart had chosen to gather water leaving the camp. Fireheart shot a quick glance at the nursery before loping over to Yellowfang's clearing.

Whitestorm emerged from Bluestar's den and Runningwind felt a pang of worry for his leader. She hadn't been the same ever since Tigerclaw's betrayal. She seemed to keep to herself more and Fireheart was left to take charge. Even though he and Whitestorm did a good job of hiding Bluestar's weakness to the rest of the camp, Runningwind knew something was wrong.

He had just finished his meal when something crashed through the thorn barrier and Speckletail appeared, followed by the rest of the water gathering patrol. Something was wrong; he could see it in their wild eyes and ruffled fur.

"Twolegs!" Speckletail spat as Fireheart and Whitestorm approached the group.

"It's okay. We lost them," Sandstorm reassured the cats as she descended into the ravine with Brackenfur.

"There was a group of young ones," a clearly distraught Brackenfur exclaimed. "They chased us!"

"Are you all okay?" Fireheart asked worriedly.

Sandstorm nodded.

"Good," Fireheart meowed. "Where were these Twolegs? Were they by the river?"

Sandstorm managed to get her breath back before she replied, "We hadn't even reached Sunningrocks. They were loose in the woods, not on the usual Twoleg paths," she added.

"We shall have to wait till dark to fetch water," Fireheart decided.

One-eye said something but Runningwind was too far away to hear her actual words. He could only hear Fireheart's reply: "Why would they stay?"

"But what about Willowpelt and Goldenflower? They'll need water before then," Speckletail fretted.

"I'll go and fetch some," Sandstorm offered.

"No, I'll go," Fireheart insisted.

They discussed it for a while, Brackenfur insisting on going, but in the end it was only Fireheart who went, disappearing through the thorn tunnel and out of the camp. Sandstorm spoke to him softly and then watched him go before turning to say something to Whitestorm. Whitestorm nodded as if agreeing to something she said.

Runningwind glanced over to the apprentices' den to see Thornpaw and Brightpaw practicing their fighting moves near the tree stump. Swiftpaw was watching them from inside the den. I wonder if I'll get my own apprentice someday, Runningwind thought.

But just as the apprentices seemed care-free, the warriors were more alert, their muscles tense, their ears pricked forward. The news of the Twolegs in their territory had been more than enough to ruffle their fur. And with the lack of rain, Tigerclaw's betrayal, Bluestar's withdrawal… Was there anymore that could go wrong. Runningwind found himself prepared for nearly anything.

Sunhigh came and went and Runningwind glanced up at the sky. It was blue and dry, not a trace of any cloud to promise rain.

Sighing, he heaved himself to his paws and joined Mousefur and Thornpaw, ready to go out on patrol. At that moment, Fireheart entered the camp with a wad of soaked moss in his jaws. The ThunderClan deputy nodded a greeting to the patrol, looking more relaxed than he had earlier, and Runningwind returned the gesture before leading the patrol away.

They climbed up and out of the ravine, heading toward the Thunderpath that marked the border with ShadowClan. As they neared the border, the overwhelming stench of Twoleg monsters flooded his scent glands and he wrinkled his nose. They were close to the Thunderpath and he could hear an approaching monster. He instinctively unsheathed his claws, scraping at the grass.

"Runningwind, over here," Mousefur called and he padded over to see what she had found. "Can you smell that?"

Opening his jaws slightly, Runningwind breathed in the scents of the forest and sure enough, he could detect faint traces of other cats, not from ThunderClan. "Rogues, do you think?" he asked.

"Could be," Mousefur said. "But it also could be ShadowClan. I'm detecting their scent too."

"Maybe it wafted over here from across the Thunderpath?" Thornpaw suggested.

"That's one possibility," Runningwind meowed.

"Let's continue along the border, see if we can pick up any more scents."

Mousefur headed away from the Thunderpath a bit, carefully sniffing at the air and Runningwind thought there was something unusual about the peace that enfolded the place. A strong scent hit his scent glands and his eyes opened wide in surprise. He opened his mouth to warn Mousefur, but something rammed into him, knocking him off his feet and he hit the ground.

He let out a screech and clawed at the enemy cat's matted pelt. Together they rolled across the dirt, crashing into the undergrowth and clawing out tufts of fur. The Thunderpath was still nearby and it was all Runningwind could smell so he did not recognize the cat who attacked him. He only saw that it was a ragged-looking tortoiseshell.

There was another yowl and Runningwind was just vaguely aware of Mousefur and Thornpaw fighting other intruders. They scuffled among the bushes, letting out cries of anger and pain.

Gritting his teeth, Runningwind pummeled his opponent's belly, throwing him off with one hard kick. The other cat spat angrily and charged again. His fur bristling, Runningwind prepared to leap out of the way and return the attack when another cat crashed into him. He lurched clumsily to the side and turned to face this new threat. The cat was big and muscular, white with four black paws.

Blackfoot! Realization dawned on him and he tried to warn Mousefur but again he couldn't get it out in time. Blackfoot raked his claws across Runningwind's tabby pelt and, stifling a yowl of pain, Runningwind retaliated with a blow to the head.

Growling, Blackfoot shook his head, but that was enough. Runningwind leaped forward, claws extended. But Blackfoot somehow managed to slip out of the way, dodging the attack. Furious, Runningwind spun around…and stopped cold.

Another cat was approaching from behind Blackfoot. A large warrior with strong, lean muscles and a scarred, dark tabby pelt. It was the rogue warrior that haunted every ThunderClan cat's dreams. The warrior who had sent the forest plummeting into dark and ominous shadows.

Tigerclaw.

"Well," Tigerclaw hissed, his eyes a menacing threat. "You're Runningwind, aren't you?"

Runningwind was so infuriated, he glared hatred at the traitor. "And you're the traitor," he spat. "You'll never get away with what you've done."

Tigerclaw sneered. Runningwind wanted so badly to warn Mousefur and Thornpaw but they hadn't even noticed. They were fighting fiercely and Thornpaw's forepaw was twisted. Mousefur was covered in scratches. They didn't notice.

Then the traitor pounced and collided into Runningwind. The warrior gasped, his heart racing frantically as he felt the traitor's claws pierce his flesh. He screamed in agony, an unearthly cry that he was sure would alert all the cats in the forest. "Run!" he cried and just managed to catch a glimpse of Mousefur breaking away from her attacker. She glanced in horror at Runningwind where he fought in the shadows. "Run!" he commanded and, after a hesitation, she bolted, Thornpaw close behind.

Runningwind drew lines of blood across Tigerclaw's shoulder but he was already weakening, his fur matted with his own scarlet blood. Then he felt the sharp prick of teeth like thorns in his neck and a panicked scream exploded in his head. Darkness washed away his vision and he fell back into the dust.

It might have been a few moments or all of eternity that he lay there, his eyes closed, seemingly dead. Then, as if the cats of StarClan had scent him reeling back to Earth, his eyes snapped open and he gasped for breath, but it never came and he jerked feebly. He realized it was quiet, save for the sound of his pounding heart and the blood that was roaring in his ears.

His vision was blurry but he could make out the silhouette of a cat that stood before him, gazing down in horror. For one terrible moment, he thought it was Tigerclaw, but then he made out the black and white patches. His mind was fuzzy but the name was there. This must be Whitethroat, he thought. The cat who came for our help.

Help…

Blood bubbled from Runningwind's neck and he spat it onto the ground. He tried to speak but it came out as a gurgle. Please, he pleaded. "Help…" he managed to gasp, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. "Please…help me…"

But Whitethroat was frozen in terror, seemingly unable to move. He just stood there and stared as Runningwind's life faded away.

Runningwind breathed his last breath upon the dust and he laid his head upon the ground. He descended into the shadows as his soul fell into the sky to hunt with StarClan. Forever.

Warriors: The Final Hour