Not Pebblewish: Thanks!
Eagleclaw25: Thank you, and the allegiances come before the meteor strike.
Hazel: I appreciate it!
NaruAburame: Thanks
Disclaimer
I do not own warriors.
Destruction. Desolation. Gone. If I had to use three words to describe what my life is right now, those three words would be perfect.
It was in ruins. The ledge where the leader made announcements had crashed down in the middle of camp, and shards of rock lay everywhere.
A ginger-and-brown tabby stood alone in the clearing, surveying in the destruction. He stood on top of a tree that lay in the clearing, his claws digging into the bark. Scanning the area, his eyes finally found the pelt he was looking for. Leaping down, he dashed over, and stared in despair at the sight before him.
"Littlefern?" the tom choked.
A white she-cat with tabby patches lay on the dust beside him, a glazed look over her green eyes. The ginger-and-brown tabby squeezed past the boulder blocking the medicine den, grabbed marigold and cobwebs, and quickly went back to Littlefern. But before he put the marigold on, he paused, and collapsed on the ground.
"It's hopeless, Nettlestep," he said to himself.
"You're probably the last ThunderClan cat left. You might even be the last Clan cat left. You have to stay strong," Nettlestep muttered determinedly.
Grabbing the scruff of Littlefern, he dragged her over to the center of the used-to-be camp, and put her in a sleeping position. Walking back, he grabbed his friend, Blizzardstorm, a thick-furred white tom, and dragged him into the center of the camp to lie next to Littlefern.
The tom returned, and found Birchleaf; his devoted and caring mother; Oaktail, his wise old father, and plenty of other lost innocent lives. When all the bodies were in the center of the camp, Nettlestep did what was probably the last thing he could ever do with his Clan: a vigil.
Padding up to Littlefern, he murmured in her ear.
"You were the best mentor a cat could have. You taught me everything I know about herbs, and died defending your Clan. Thank you for making me the medicine cat I am," he mewed, his voice choking.
After burying his face her fur, he moved on to his former best friend, Blizzardstorm.
"Blizzardstorm, I don't know any cat who could have better a better friend. You were always there for me when I needed you, I wish you were still here now. Thank for all that you have given me."
The medicine cat apprentice moved on, and said his condolences to every cat, some more heartfelt than others. But the moment he finished with the last cat, he immediately ran back over to his old mentor, and wailed his grief to the sky.
"Are you happy, StarClan?! Taking all these lives, all these kits who will never have the chance to be warriors? Like this?! Are you satisfied now?!" Nettlestep yowled to the stars. Inside, he knew his warrior ancestors weren't all to blame, but he had to yell at something, someone.
"Birchleaf, I'm scared," Nettlekit squeaked, as the thunder crashed outside.
"Don't worry, my son. There are storms in life, but you have to go through the rain to see the rainbow," his mother replied, a loving look in her eyes.
Nettlestep shook himself, a lump forming in his throat at the memory. How can a rainbow come from this?
Nettlestep went over to his mother's body, and curled up next to her, and waited for her to give him a comforting lick on the head, like she always did when he was frightened. But she didn't move. She just laid there, her bright green eyes never to open again.
Nettlestep blinked open his eyes to a large drop of water splatter on his face. Looking up to the sky, he could see an occasional raindrop coming down to earth, as if StarClan was morning the loss of the Clans.
Soon, the drizzle became a storm, and Nettlestep was forced to abandon his mentor and his mother to find shelter. He ran into the nursery, the memory of his mother clouding his mind. Curling up into a ball, the only thoughts in his head were sorrow and death.
Rolling over, his back bumped something soft. Jumping with surprise, Nettlestep turned around, and saw the ginger queen, Squirreltail, lying down, her body protecting something. . .
Oh, that's right! I forgot to check the nursery! He thought with guilt.
Sniffing her, the medicine cat apprentice caught the scent of death clinging to Squirreltail's pelt, just like the rest of his clanmates. Shifting her position, he spotted three black, brown-and-white, and ginger-and-white pelts.
Grabbing the black tom, Blackkit, he inspected the kit, searching for signs of life. But the kit was as limp as fresh-kill. He searched Mousekit, the brown-and-white tom, but only found the same results of a scratched pelt and shut eyes.
Finally, Nettlestep picked up Maplekit, the only she-kit of the litter, and put his head to her chest. At first he thought he imagined it, but after triple-checking, he was sure he could hear a small thump thump, thump thump.
Rushing to his den with Maplekit in his jaws, he set her down next to the pool where the patients drink out of. Nettlestep searched his supplies for chamomile, cobwebs, marigold, a juniper berry, and poppy seeds.
This kit won't join her mother just yet.
While she was unconscious, he carefully applied marigold to her wounds, and put the cobwebs on to prevent it from coming off. She hissed in her sleep, and it didn't take long for her to wake up.
She looked into Nettlestep's green eyes, and squeaked, "Where am I?"
"Safe," he replied.
"My side hurts," she complained, turning her head to a gash on her flank, now covered with cobwebs.
"And where's mother? And Blizzardstorm? And Blackkit? And Mousekit?" Maplekit persisted.
Nettlestep gulped. How am I supposed to tell a kit her whole family just died in one night?
"Shh, just eat these, and the pain will go away," Nettlestep mewed, passing her the chamomile, juniper berry, and two poppy seeds.
Maplekit sniffed it. "It looks yucky," she complained, glancing at the herbs. Going back to his store, the ginger-and-brown tabby grabbed a honeycomb, and put it on the chamomile.
"Try it now," he urged.
Smelling the honey, Maplekit put the chamomile in her jaws, and swallowed it eagerly.
"More?" she asked.
Nettlestep passed her a bit of the honeycomb, and as she licked it, Nettlestep slit the juniper berry open, and slid the poppy seeds in it, to make sure the kit got every herb she needed.
When Maplekit had finished, he dropped the berry at her paws, and ordered, "Eat it."
Maplekit, hoping it would taste like the honey treat, immediately shoved it in her mouth and swallowed it. Nettlestep licked her between the ears.
"Good kit."
The ginger-and-white she-kit looked up at Nettlestep, and asked once again, "Where's my family?"
Oh StarClan, please let the poppy seeds take affect soon.
"They are. . . in camp," he replied slowly.
"Can I see them?" Maplekit asked hopefully, lashing her short white-tipped tail.
"They're. . . they are busy right now."
To Nettlestep's relief, the kit was starting to yawn.
"Oh, alright. I hope they're okay. Last time I saw mother and father, they looked really worried," Maplekit's jaw's stretched in an enormous yawn. She lied down with her tail over her nose, her breathing slowing.
Nettlestep put his body around Maplekit's, gazed out in the twilight rain, and sighed.
What am I supposed to do now?
And there you have it, your ThunderClan survivors! I hope you enjoyed!