ThunderClan. My Clan, my home.

The tabby tom swept his gaze over the forest, his orange eyes twinkling as they took in his territory. Such a shame that I must leave it. He rose to his feet, limbs shaking and bones creaking with age, and stumbled down from the Highrock and into the clearing. He let out a loud cough, the only indicator of his bad health, and padded by the medicine cat's den, where a dark gray tabby was working diligently, passing out herbs to the sickened cats. No Clan could rival our strength, our cleverness.

He turned away from the medicine cat's den and saw his old mate walking towards him, her muzzle graying with age. He didn't speak to her; he simply padded away, back into his den.

If I am to die, it is in solitude. Just like my entire life has been.

He laid himself down in his nest. Memories of his life- his apprenticeship, his life as a warrior, his mates, his children, and finally, his decisions as a leader. I could have done better. Much better. But ThunderClan is strong now.

A cat appeared by the entrance of his den, his whiskers twitching. He had a blackbird clamped firmly in his jaws, and stifling a sneeze, set it before him. "You must eat," he mewed. "We can't lose our leader, not when we're on the verge of battle."

The tabby tom shooed him away, his tail flicking in displeasure. He tried to take a bite of the prey, but gagged on it and spat it out. No need to drag this on longer than it needs to go. He was fully aware of his death, the closeness of it. Every time he closed his eyes he could see stars. Waiting for him. Waiting to drag his spirit away, to them.

Slowly he lowered his head onto his paws. His eyes scanned the clearing in front of him once more, before finally he closed them and succumbed to the darkness.