ᄃЯΛЩᄂ ƧPΛᄃΣ
"Blood up the walls, blood in the halls. Chosen. Chosen to live? No, Chosen to die. The walls are closing in. There aren't many of us left now. Is she waiting? Is she watching? I'm next. Don't look for me, I'm already dead. We failed."
ƧƬΛЯVΣD
It occurred in a flurry of activity, in the time when six Clans all moved as one to leave the cold Isle, pushing and shoving, mingling, fragile remnants of inter-Clan conversations dying away. He bumped into her, their paws became tangled, and the two hit the ground amidst a volley of loud curses and confused noises.
In another time some would have proclaimed fate, destiny, a predestined path. That day it was just a hindrance, an annoying collision, nothing of importance. Yet there was no mistaking the sudden spark when eyes the colour of flax flowers and eyes looking like the early morning sun had been plucked from the sky and placed in them met that night.
"I swear these paws are going to kill me one day. Sorry, I really don't know why I'm even allowed out of the camp sometimes," she muttered, glaring at her clumsy paws.
He laughed, "I don't think your paws are entirely to blame."
"For once. Palingsky, from RisingClan." Her fur could have been described as freshly fallen snow if it hadn't been for the odd silvery shimmer; starlight tangled in the long strands. It looked so very soft, and beautiful, even under the sickly glow of the blood moon.
"Robinfrost, SnowClan." The glow of late evening trapped in his coat, joined by those dark streaks clouds bring. A soft ginger, not so bright that it was hard on the eyes, broken up by thick black stripes, and a single paw stained white.
"I'm really sorry, have a nice night, Robinfrost!" Palingsky called over her shoulder, already on her paws and catching up with her Clan. She had a bright smile. It reached into her eyes.
He murmured, "yeah, you too," before a paw thudded into the back of his head. "Oi!"
"Stop drooling, you snake."
"Stop hitting your mentor whenever you feel like it, Stonepaw!" Robinfrost rubbed his head, grimacing. His overconfident apprentice grinned, patting the warrior on the shoulder.
"You're not even a good mentor. All you do is laze around all day. When Darkstorm asks if you've taught me how to be a warrior I'll tell him all you taught me to do was nap," Stonepaw sighed. "I'll flop on all my enemies and nap them to death."
Robinfrost shoved Stonepaw, tossing a leg over the apprentice's neck and dragging him down to the ground. "I taught you how to catch a squirrel once."
"That doesn't make you sound any better!" Stonepaw laughed, struggling in Robinfrost's grip. He kicked his mentor in the stomach and crowed victoriously when Robinfrost relaxed with a pained moan. "See? Your eight moon old apprentice can beat you in a fight."
"Oh, come on, that was hardly a fight, you pest. Let's go before our Clan leaves us behind to fight through RogueClan's territory ourselves."
A day passed. Then two, three. A moon. A season. Leaves tumbled from trees, turned to dust, and faded away. Prey showed up less, the first warning that the hardest moons were peeking just over the horizon. Hunting patrols left in the morning and returned in the evening, their haul shrinking with each sunrise. A cold chill descended slowly at first, until a cold snap froze the world overnight. Leaf bare unsheathed deadly claws and plunged them deep.
The forest skirting the border with RogueClan was the only part of SnowClan that managed to shake away it's cover of snow when new leaf bounded into the valley, and was their greatest source of prey. Yet, earlier than usual, it too was blanketed under white, smothered by the stifling cold, stripped of life: choked. The trees became skeletons, bleached by harsh winds, bark stripped away. A perfect picture of perfect suffering.
Robinfrost was running. Through the snow he ploughed, thin legs straining to push him faster, to drag him closer. Clouds kicked up behind him, the disturbed white huffing angrily. He reached, reached, reached, desperately with all he had, stretching his body out to its limits. His claws were so close. Just a littler further, one more step, just one more. The world was cruel, and one more step was just one step too much. His body crumpled, folded in, gave way.
Robinfrost was falling, claws still reaching for the small white body that flung itself across the snow and escaped death's jaws. Life for one was death for another. A fair trade some would say, others would disagree, but that was the way the world worked. He gasped in unsteady breaths, drinking in air that stung his lungs. It tasted of cold and of death. His death. Their death. SnowClan's death. The valley's death. Everyones death. The blood moon laughed at him from the sky.
He howled to the moon, to the sky, to the sun, and to the heavy clouds. He told them of all his anguish, of all his hatred and pain, but they did not answer - they would never answer, like silent sentinels it was their duty to remain impassive. Once the stars had spoken back, full of warmth and hope, gave life but demanded no death in return. Now they just sat there, corpses speared into the inky blackness. He couldn't see the stars, but he knew they were there, waiting till blue faded to black.
"Would you blame me if I never came back?" he asked no one.
He knew they wouldn't. The Clan wouldn't even know he'd left, they'd just assume he'd keeled over and died. Starvation stalked the valley now, it worked alongside Crimson to pull the Clans deeper and deeper into an endless spiral of death. It wouldn't surprise him to find out that Crimson had been the cause behind the early leaf bare, and it's unnatural ferocity. She'd already taken so much but she never seemed satisfied. There was always one more way to hurt the Clans, one more despicable action. Would death ever leave the valley? Or would it remain as an everpresent silhouette stalking the trees, the moor, the swamp, the desert, and the cliffs?
"This is stupid," he muttered. His stomach growled, and hurt: a sharp pang that near brought him to his shaking knees. No one knew how tired he was. Even his bones were tired. They creaked and groaned whenever he moved. His heart was tired. Would he return to camp today to find another kit dead? "Should've bought Stonepaw, he'd find food, he always finds food."
His sickly apprentice couldn't do much these days except fight against greencough. It was unlikely for him to survive. Malnourished, starving, weak, Stonepaw didn't stand a chance. Robinfrost knew that, but he still had faith in his unruly protege. He needed Stonepaw to just wake up one morning without a single trace of sickness in him, and demand to go training. A hoarse laugh fought its way to freedom. He had placed too much on Stonepaw's weakening shoulders.
In the near distance, strolling slowly along the snowy plain towards the skeleton trees, was a faint figure only just visible. It walked like the wind moved, flowy and wild; it's paws hardly touched the ground. When it looked his way he flinched. They were a blank blue, lifeless and void, unblinking, dead. He'd never seen such a creature before. It looked unnatural.
"You." He heard its voice clearly, so clearly, as if it was standing right beside him and uttering the words straight into his ear. "Come."
The defiant streak in him demanded he turn his back on the stranger and make his way back to camp, discarding the encounter as only a hunger-induced hallucination. He nearly did just that, but something stopped him. There was something about the way the creature hovered so very far away yet felt like it stood right beside him that made him so very curious. What if it was a danger to the Clan? It was his duty to everything in his power to make sure the Clan was safe.
"Come," it said again, "I have much to tell you."
"Why should I?" he whispered.
He could have sworn he saw it smile. "There are many reasons why you should not, but there are also many reasons why you should. I cannot convince you either way and I will not drag you there kicking and screaming. This is a decision you must make yourself. A test, really. Do you have what it takes to discard everything you've been taught? Will you have the tenacity to do what we ask of you?"
"Are you going to kill me?"
"You are far too important for that, Robinfrost."
He jolted, and then he followed. I'm curious is all, he told himself but he knew it was more than that. It knew his name and it said he was important. His pride wouldn't let him turn back now. It commanded him to sink his paws into the snow, push off, and chase the lingering creature. So he did.
Into the trees it led him, the skeleton trees with their gangly arms and rattling breaths watching them pass yet only truly seeing one. Robinfrost noticed that the creature left no pawprints, had no scent, and made no sound. It moved like the wind, and he wondered if it was the wind trapped in mortal form. But that was stupid, what would the wind want with him? Did it plan on whispering secrets in his ear?
The border came and went, and Robinfrost did not even care that he had crossed it. Who had the time to patrol, or the energy, anymore? Everyone was far too busy scouring every nook and cranny for even a tiny morsel of food. Rivalries didn't mean anything anymore. Hunger was hunger, and he would quite happily sit down and share a squirrel with a RisingClanner if it meant not starving. Leaf bare always proved that there was more to life than just squabbling over lines that didn't really exist.
He wondered, briefly, what Palingsun was doing. She frequented his mind quite often, increasingly so recently. Her brilliant smile and star-trapped fur had captivated him. He wanted to know that she was okay, that she wasn't taking death's paw and allowing it to lead her to a place he could not follow. Did she think of him to? Did she even care? Or had he been, to her, just an incident at a gathering?
"Your mind never settles, does it, Robinfrost? It's like a leaf caught in a neverending breeze, rising and falling, yet never meeting the ground. It is a wondrous thing to experience."
"You can tell I'm thinking?"
A soft sound like a laugh emanated from somewhere within it. "I can do more than tell, I can see it. Every being has a different, how can I put it...scene when they think. Yours is an autumn day where the sky is the kind of blue that looks almost white and the clouds are nothing more than wispy streaks. The leaves are falling, red and orange and brown, drifting and tumbling. There's laughter and a bright sun. You have a beautiful scene, Robinfrost."
"That's amazing," he murmured, awestruck. "Have you seen many other scenes?"
"I've seen everything from impossibly white stretches of sand that sparkling blue waves tug upon to black abyss's that are filled to the brim with every fear in the world. They are a picture of their creator. Your scene is your own, threaded together lovingly without your own knowledge."
A thought came to mind. "Have you seen Crimson's scene?" He thought it was a stupid question the moment he asked it, how could the wind know of Crimson? She was only a plague in the valley.
"It's a sunrise."
He didn't understand. A sunrise was beautiful, the signal of a brand new day, warm colours that spread into the sky. Why did Crimson's mind look like such a beautiful thing? Shouldn't it be dark, black, the pitchest darkness, sucking and leaching.
"The dark moments before sunrise, when the world pauses and takes a collective sigh, then the rays show themselves. Light after darkness, a new day, a new era; change, that is what her scene is."
"Change? Are you telling me she's important somehow?"
"All created are important. None are created with no purpose, though there will be those that deviate from their chosen purpose, all will eventually drift back to it. Even Crimson."
Robinfrost scowled a little. He didn't like to think that everything Crimson was doing was a selected path, that it was all supposed to happen for the greater good. It didn't make sense for so many to have to die just to suit a destiny.
"Pure evil is not our creation, it is that of a darker being's, but it is something we have to deal with. She will meet her end when the time is right, and the sun will rise to herald a new era. Sometimes a shove is needed to turn the world into a new age."
"Crimson will die? Can you tell me when?"
It shook its head. "I cannot, but know that she will, as all things do. You will die, this world will die, everything dies."
"That's a little depressing."
Further into RogueClan's territory they strayed, skirting murky swamps and tangles of thorns. Robinfrost decided that he hated this territory. It stunk of wet earth, and the mud sucked at his paws. However it wasn't as cold. Some of the trees had kept their leaves as well. They didn't look like the haunting reminder of death SnowClan's forest had been reduced to. He didn't catch even a whiff of prey.
The stepping stones were slick with ice. Robinfrost eyed them, and the no-doubt freezing water surging around them, with distrust. "I won't let you fall." It turned those unnerving blue circles on him, "trust me."
When it placed a paw on the first stone the ice melted and a cloud of steam rose up. The look it gave him over its shoulder might have been smug. He frowned a little. So the wind could melt ice, good for it. At least now he didn't have to contend with ice.
"Why are we going to the Isle?"
"It's neutral ground, we can talk there without running the risk of being overheard."
"Crimson's soldiers are crawling all over the place, though. They could be anywhere." The thought made his skin crawl. They could be watching them at any moment, waiting to strike, to kill them. You can't kill the wind, but you can kill the living.
"There won't be any soldiers around, I promise you that. You are safe, Robinfrost. No harm will come to you whilst I am with you."
Robinfrost paused midstep, focusing on the fluid white pelt in front of him. "How long will you be with me?"
"Until you come to terms with what is expected of you, and of the others."
They passed through the forestry ringing the clearing in the middle of the Isle to step out into the cropped grass. Long shadows stretched from the thrones, reaching greedy paws further into the light. Robinfrost twitched an ear uncomfortably and then took in what else was waiting for him.
"Robinfrost!"
Her star-trapped fur shone, white and brilliant, and her smile was just like how he'd always thought about it; wondrous. Yet even though his heart shuddered upon meeting her sunny eyes it was the fact that she'd remember his name and said it with so much enthusiasm that had him grinning like an idiot. "Palingsky."
Then his brow furrowed upon noticing that there were three others sitting rather uncomfortably in the chilly late afternoon air. Sickly yellow eyes and a dark silver pelt, Ashfeather of WaveClan stared him down, white muzzle pulled up into a grimace. He knew her. They'd had...altercations before. Gatherings when she'd been too loud and too obnoxious.
Beside her crouched an unsettled brown tabby played idly with a leaf, spearing it with a claw and then shaking it loose. Hawkflight, CedarClan's master hunter. He'd seen the hunter chasing birds through the treetops from the border, and admired the agility it must take to remain in the trees.
The other he wasn't so sure about.
"Why are they here?" he murmured to the wind.
"The same reason you are." It raised it's head to greet the others, and it was in that moment that Robinfrost noticed the other three not-quite there creatures hanging around the others. "I see you managed to retrieve them."
"They didn't take much convincing," the one sitting beside Hawkflight could have been grinning. "You doubt our methods, Destiny?"
"I never said that, Time." So the wind was called Destiny.
"Can you please explain why you dragged me all the way out here?" Hawkflight snapped, "I need to get back home."
Robinfrost looked closer at the tabby, finding the same signs of starvation he saw so often amongst his own Clan mates. Ribs that jutted out, the outline of the bones so very clear under thin fur. His face looked tired, eyes dull and exhausted. Robinfrost wondered if Hawkflight had had to bury many of his friends recently.
Time's endless green eyes turned on Hawkflight almost dismissively. "Impatient. Fate, Change, are your two ready to hear what we have to say?" They nodded and it looked over at the only real cat without a flowing companion: dark gray fur, blackened face, piercing green eyes. "What about you? I'm surprised you believed the dream we sent. What changed your mind?"
"Someone died. Someone always dies." he mumbled.
"I'm sorry for your loss."
"Sorry won't bring him back."
"You're all here to save the world," Destiny explained. "We've chosen you because the world needs what you have to offer. There isn't much time left. We need you now, we need you more than ever."
Ashfeather spat a bark of laughter, eyeing her companion - Change - with amusement. "Seriously? You made me walk all the way here just to tell me that you want me to save the world? Don't be stupid. I can't even save my own Clan, let alone the world."
"She's right. Our Clans need our attention more now than the world does. We're starving to death, all of us," Hawkflight agreed.
"We kind of live in the world, you know?" Palingsky arched a brow, "if we save the world we save our Clans too. Sure, we can stay here and help our Clans get through leaf bare, but what if we survive starvation only to be cut down by whatever's coming?"
He had to admit that they were all right. Whilst he agreed with Palingsky about them living in the world and needing to save it, he couldn't really bring himself to just abandon his Clan when they needed him most. They needed warriors willing to go traipsing through the cold for days in search of just scraps of food, warriors that could put others before themselves and go hungry when there wasn't enough to eat, warriors prepared to starve to death if the situation presented itself.
"Can't it wait until after leaf bare?" he asked.
Destiny shook her head, "I'm afraid not. This threat will only grow stronger with time. If we leave it too long it may reach a point where it becomes too powerful to defeat. Our best chance is now. Your best chance is now."
"I can't leave my Clan," the dark gray tom started to move away, "I can't leave them."
"This will benefit them, I can promise you that, Darkclaw," one of the other's breathed.
Ashfeather curled her tail. "What great evil are we supposed to defeat? What's this super bad thing that's going to get us all if we don't deal with it now?"
"Crimson."
"Okay we already knew she was evil to start with, and we already know things are only going to get worse with her, but we can't do anything about that and nor can we stop her," Hawkflight hissed, "so stop taunting us with the idea that we can. She's too powerful, too clever."
"What if we were to tell you that we know you can defeat her?" Time sort-of grinned. It was hard to pick up on what expressions crossed their constantly contorting faces. They moved like mist, like smoke, falling and fading, drifting and waning.
Palingsky hummed thoughtfully. "It'd certainly be great to get rid of her once and for all."
"We'd be heroes," Robinfrost added quietly.
"Our Clans wouldn't have to suffer under her anymore. We'd get the chance to recover after such a hard leaf bare. Everyone of us would be free again," Darkclaw murmured. "Do we really stand a chance against her, though? She killed the High Stars, destroyed the afterlife, and turned the moon to blood…"
Destiny let out a quiet breath. "You've been pawpicked to do this, you wouldn't be here otherwise. We know you can do it. But you have to be willing to give everything up, to throw yourselves into this journey with everything you have."
"Do we get to say goodbye to our Clans?" Ashfeather asked.
"There's no time," her companion rasped, "you must go now. Head for the mountains, escape this valley prison, and taste the freedom that awaits all of your families when you succeed."
Robinfrost felt the world spin a little around him. They were expected to leave right now? How did these strangers expect them to just abandon their Clans without a single word? When they returned, if they returned, they'd be labelled as deserters. He couldn't do that, not to his family, not to his friends. They'd hate him for it.
"How do we know you're even telling the truth?" he protested, "who even are you?"
"Upholders, guardians, watchers of this world. We are present in everything and everyone, tiny slivers of us working their lives to plans laid out before us. Time, Fate, Change, Destiny, we watch over them all individually, and together. This world would not be the same without us. We aren't trying to lure you to your deaths. All we want is to protect the world we've spent so long raising. Please," they spoke as one, "believe us."
"Do you promise that we'll come back?" Darkclaw demanded, eyes narrowed and dark.
"We promise that you will all return."
Apparently satisfied, Darkclaw gave a stiff nod and then addressed the others. "Are the rest of you prepared to do this? We'll go kill Crimson and then come home. It's our duty as warriors to do what's best for our Clans. This is what's best for our Clans."
"I have no problem with it," Palingsky was practically bouncing on her paws.
Ashfeather sighed but nodded, "Darkclaw's right."
"I'm still not too sure why you've decided Crimson needs to be stopped now and not earlier, but I don't really have a choice, do I?" Hawkflight huffed.
"You all have a choice."
He arched a brow and snarled, "really? If I do go I kill Crimson, supposedly, and save the world. If I don't go I don't kill Crimson and the world doesn't get saved. Doesn't sound like much of a choice to me."
"We won't force you to go, Hawkflight, but you are just as important to this journey as the others are."
"Just stop talking. I'll do it."
"What about you, Robinfrost? Going to save the world with us?" How could he say no to the sparkle in Palingsky's eyes? He couldn't, so he just nodded. The Clan wouldn't hate him if he killed Crimson, they'd thank him. It was the right thing to do.
He looked up at Destiny to find them staring down at him with conflict in their eyes. His brow furrowed, a silent question, what's wrong? They didn't, or couldn't, answer. All they did was offer a painfully fake smile that he supposed was meant to be encouraging. What aren't you telling me?
"You best hurry. Getting out of this valley will take speed. Take the most direct path, straight through PhoenixClan's territory. Darkclaw, I'm sure you know of the path into the mountains?"
"I do, but it's constantly guarded."
"Tonight you'll find that it is not. Go now, good luck."
They ran, the mismatched assembly of heroes, with the voices of their strange companions echoing in their ears. Chosen to save the world. Chosen to kill Crimson. An honour, Robinfrost suspected some might say, but to him it felt like an impossible burden. What did they have that the countless others that had tried to go up against Crimson hadn't had? He didn't think he was any different from most of his Clan mates. Could they go up against Crimson too?
A harsh sunset played out behind them. The ocean, vicious and cold that evening, swallowed the sun ray by ray - and the usual colours that spread themselves beautifully across a darkening sky didn't even have the chance to show themselves. It was just a flash of burnt orange and then black, melting into the smooth colour of night. The trees lost their colour. The valley shrunk under the intimidating eye that was Crimson's moon as it did each night.
Nightfall was a dangerous time. The light died. The dark rose. The soldiers began their hunt; the cull. Kill as many as you can. It had been a whispered command to trusted captains, and it had started as a one off thing. Yet as most things did it had spun far out of control. A bloodcurdling shriek ricocheted throughout the valley. The Clans would not be sleeping tonight. A game was to be played. How many could you get? Crimson's darkest idea to date.
Darkclaw hesitated, his pace slowing, and Robinfrost was waiting for him to demand they return to their Clans and help them. He didn't. "Run quicker. We can't get caught up in the bloodbath tonight. Just...don't stop."
"Did they know this was going to happen tonight?" Hawkflight gasped, flanks heaving. "Is that why they said the path would be unguarded?"
"If they did they chose the wrong night to send us," Ashfeather growled. "We should be with our Clans. More will die without our help."
"More will die if we don't stop Crimson. We are helping them, killing Crimson means all these night culls stop as well. They'll understand, okay?" Palingsky smiled. The sparkle in her eye had dimmed, the bounce in her step reduced to a tiny skip. There was a tenseness about her stance, like her whole body had locked up.
The path presented itself to them, sprouting from the sandy dunes of PhoenixClan's territory. A few sparse mountain trees dotted the sharp incline. The path itself looked old and worn, brittle from seasons of harsh winds barrelling down it. It really didn't look like much but to Robinfrost it represented freedom; a way out of the prison Crimson had trapped them all in.
He swallowed uncomfortably and looked back. Far above him the nightsky unfurled, a royal carpet flooded with millions of glistening stars rolled out over treetops and plains made of grass and sand. Home. He found a sense of peace in that moment, staring out over the place he had grown up in - the stark difference between SnowClan's white lands and PhoenixClan's red hills was strangely beautiful. What they were doing was right. He didn't want to give Crimson the chance to destroy what he saw laid out before him.
"Come on," he turned to the others still waiting for him at the bottom of the path and grinned, "let's go take down Crimson." Palingsky's face lit up like dawn, Hawkflight rolled his eyes, Ashfeather muttered intelligible words, and Darkclaw just snorted.
Dark laughter chilled their blood; a slow, drawn out laugh that dwindled to a quiet growl. "Did you hear that, my loyal followers? They want to kill me. How rude."
"After all you've done for them. Clan cats just can't accept nice things."
Crimson stood in the shadows cast by the towering mountains. She was near hidden, a silhouette haunting the darkness. Flanking her on either side was Jinx and Tornheart, one smirking, the other staring. Dull-pelted, blank-eyed soldiers waited behind them, silently watching.
"I'm hurt," Crimson frowned, "that you want to kill me so much. Don't you enjoy my company? I enjoy my company. Do you enjoy my company, Jinx?"
"Of course I do, there's no one else I'd rather murder with," Jinx flashed a toothy grin.
Ashfeather advanced, lip curled and a hiss threading from her throat. "Get away from us. We're getting out of this prison before we all die under your watch. We don't need you, we never needed you."
"I never claimed that you needed me, but apparently you do seeing as you've forgotten already that all paths out of the valley are forbidden territory. No Clan cat is allowed to step a foot out of this valley without my permission, and I assure you, Ashfeather of WaveClan, you do not have my permission to leave."
"Then I'll wring it out of your dying body," the she-cat spat.
She didn't even have the chance to move. Tornheart swept her paws out from underneath her and deposited the warrior on her back in mere heartbeats. A paw sat heavy on her throat, another pressing into her gut. Tornheart flexed her claws, and Ashfeather wriggled. "Your last breath will leave your body long before Crimson's leaves hers."
"Shove off, Betrayer!" Ashfeather screeched.
Tornheart glanced at Crimson as if for permission. The black-furred she-cat shrugged, "I don't care if you kill her, that's your decision."
"No!" Robinfrost snagged their attention, "you don't need to kill her, please, don't kill her. Haven't you dealt enough death already, Tornheart? Just let her up, she won't do anything."
"You can't tell me what to do," Ashfeather pushed against Tornheart's grip.
"Ashfeather!" Hawkflight seethed, "be quiet!"
"Should listen to your friends, silly warrior, before you get in even more trouble," Jinx purred, flouncing over to Ashfeather and lightly dragging a claw up the warrior's face.
"Please," Robinfrost tried once more, "let her up."
Crimson met his gaze unflinchingly, bloody eyes angry. "Why should I? She's planning to kill me, you're all planning to kill me. That's treason, a crime punishable by murder. I should just kill you all now and be done with it."
"Then why don't you?" Darkclaw snapped. "Stop dragging it out, your speeches have always been boring and repetitive, so kill us before we die of boredom."
Robinfrost felt a tug on his tail and looked back, Palingsky was huddled behind him, cowering as close to the ground as she could get. The whites of her eyes were showing clearly and fear rolled off her in stinking waves. He felt a tug on his heart, and then confusion. Palingsky was a RisingClan warrior, since when were they afraid of confrontation?
"What?" he asked.
"If we fight here we'll die."
"I know that, I'm trying to stop that from happening," he replied. "But it's not easy."
"Am I obligated to bury your bodies if I kill you here, or can I leave you to rot?" Crimson was humming thoughtfully. Ashfeather still remained trapped under Tornheart's claws and at the mercy of Jinx's wandering ones.
Darkclaw looked bored. "You can figure that out later, get on with it."
"You really aren't helping," Hawkflight hissed.
"Nothing we say or do is going to make this situation any better. They lied to us, okay? We got caught. We're going to die. Might as well die quickly instead of having to listen to her prattle on about all the terrible ways she's going to pick apart our bodies while we writhe under her claws," Darkclaw deadpanned.
Hawkflight's jaw fell open. "T-That's, um, please don't talk anymore, Darkclaw."
"Fine by me," he shrugged.
"You really are an interesting bunch, not the first to try and make it out of the valley either. Ahah! I think I've figured out what to do with you lot. You see," she paced closer, wafting her tail across Ashfeather's nose, "it really does wound me when Clan cats try to escape. You don't need to escape, you've got everything you need right here."
"We're starving to death!" Hawkflight cried out, then realised his mistake, eyes widening almost comically.
Crimson's glare could have levelled trees. "I wasn't finished yet, Hawkflight. Don't Clan cats always starve during this season? You've survived before, I'm sure you can all survive again. Like I was saying, too many of you have been trying to escape and I think it's due time that I made a little show of it."
Despair mixed with a growing sense of doom in Robinfrost's stomach, it made him feel queasy. He didn't like the pure evil grin spreading across Jinx's face, nor the twisted expression Crimson was currently sporting. He thought of Destiny, and then realised they'd been tricked. It had all been a set up. He felt beyond stupid.
"There's a gathering tomorrow night, isn't there?"
"Yes," Jinx answered, "there is."
Palingsky spoke up, her voice shaking, "what are you going to do with us?"
Crimson laughed. "I'm going to drag you back to the Isle and execute you in front of everyone."
'Your soul so black and chilled
It's torture
I can't stop what can't be killed'
'Torture' - Les Friction
an: This is a Game of Blood Novella, but it's not overly important for you to have read Crimson Moon or Chasing the Sun. If you have, however, then this novella fits in between Crimson Moon and Chasing the Sun, and will tell the tale of the final Game Crimson forced the Clans to play.