The war broke the warrior code. A few cats astray and the whole world was catastrophe. Life flowed everywhere. Tufts of shredded fur in the air, claws in flesh and teeth at throats. Pain resonated in screams and screeches. Red liquid glistened dark on the brambles. A few drops dribbled down and soiled the ground. Warriors fought for life, which extinguished at an alarming rate.

Two cats were a writhing mess near the nursery. They wrestled and grappled in sheer viciousness. Blue and green eyes locked in white-hot hatred. Claws greedily raked bellies. Battle cries escaped through their clenched mouths. Suddenly, a paw flashed. Then agony erupted from a mouth. The winner gave a lasting scratch on the injured cat's cheek, drawing a fresh spray of blood. Yellow fur went well with crimson. The queen struggled on the ground and the blue cat sneered.

"Mouse-heart."

"Dustadder! Get another victim!"

A muscular cinnamon tom snapped at her before returning to his own battle. He choked a pale gray cat with large paws. The crushed warrior flailed her paws in a desperate scrabble. Her orange eyes bulged under the pressure. Dustadder gave a disdainful sniff before racing off to find another victim.

A red tabby staggered. Fresh blood welled from his pelt. His hazel eyes widened in shock upon seeing the helpless queen. His entire body from ear to tail trembled in shock.

"Sandsong! No!"

A black gorge tore his heart. His belly churned at her terrible wounds. Her left eye was nothing but a blight, pulsing endless dark liquid from the hole. His belly clenched with terror and went rigid. A dark brown cat paused by the pair. She let out a hiss.

"Move aside, Sunpatch. I'll check her over."

She bent over the unconsciouss cat. Would she live? The dreadful question lingered at the tip of his tongue, but Sunpatch did not dare ask. If, if Sandsong was, somehow, to die, he- Horrible fear drowned him in despair. No, she would never leave him. The brown cat gave another hiss, hazel eyes fixed on the new patient.

"Get out. Go fight, Sunpatch."

"But-"

WHHT!

"ShadowClan! Retreat!"

Warriors raised their tail and pricked their ears. The strange signal was from Sprucestar, the leader of madness, ShadowClan. Their deputy had enough sense to add a verbal retreat. Dismay rippled through ShadowClan, but no one dared to utter a word of protest. The leader's words were final and the Clan followed them. The eyes of the muscular tom earlier glinted with eager malice.

"What is it, Darkflight?"

Dustadder grunted, taking her time to flick gore and blood off her sharp, thin claws. The amused tom flicked his tail.

"Don't you see? Don't you love the smell?"

The ShadowClan cat lifted her nose and sniffed the air, keeping one eye on her Clanmate. There was nothing except for the usual scent of fear, blood, dead bodies and smoke. Smoke? The acrid tang of smoke was beginning to take shape. Her eyes darted around for an answer. Darkflight's grin widened and his lips curled to reveal blackened teeth.

"We've brought the fire."