CROWS gathered overhead, clicking their beaks eagerly atop the narrow pine branches. They cawed and danced, sending a steady shower of needles down onto Sedgestrike as she stood frozen over the corpse of her mother. Her golden eyes were glazed over as she drew her nose across her stiffened face, forever petrified in rage. Sedgestrike knew Fernstream fought to the end. In her claws, she saw the gray fur of her attacker, whom remained standing behind Sedgestrike watching her reaction with an eager expression and lashing tail.

"Abandoning MarshClan, your place of duty and devotion, is treason, you see," Longscar explained calmly. "And I have reason to believe she did not act alone." Sedgestrike could feel the warrior coming closer. "So I wonder, what brings you to the border, Sedgestrike?"

Tongueless at the sight of her mother's mangled body, Sedgestrike could only stare. The words Longscar uttered merely touched her ears. Whatever he said went unheard.

"This is your chance," he hissed, dangling the carrot before her as if she were a hapless bunny. "You can finally prove to me you're the chosen one they think you are. Tell me the truth, unmask the others that conspired in this foolhardy plan… and I promise, I'll serve you until the end of my life. We will all serve you. No one will doubt that you are what we've been waiting for."

Longscar's sultry promise fell on deaf ears, Sedgestrike was far away, a kit again, playing in camp alongside her siblings while Fernstream watched them, smiling. She was becoming an apprentice, nervous but excited to embark on her training, and in the audience of MarshClan cats, Fernstream was there, smiling. She caught her first fish, and Fernstream was there, smiling. She climbed her first tree, and Fernstream was there, smiling. She became a warrior then, and Fernstream was there to smile. She confessed her love for Blueflower, and Fernstream was there, smiling.

Her mother would smile no more. Not ever again.

Sedgestrike felt her insides liquify. Her body was trembling. Longscar was talking again, but all she could hear was an incessant ringing in her ears.

Her mother was gone.

Her mother was murdered.

She turned then, abruptly and quietly, giving Longscar a start. The warrior met her glare, gaze level, and stood his ground. Sedgestrike could see the claw marks Fernstream gave him, and how they grew more shallow and ragged along his shoulders. She remembered how Vinestripe scratched pathetically at Claytooth before he died, and she knew Fernstream did the same. The deep scarlet grin on her mother's throat was still fresh, raining rubies from her wasting body. It was a purposeful laceration. There was intent. Longscar came to kill her all along.

Sedgestrike unsheathed her claws. "You murdered her," she snarled. There was no time to mourn, not while her mother's killer was still standing. Rage grew into something ugly inside of her, rearing its head and roaring flame into every inch of her body. "You didn't even bring her to trial, you didn't even let her defend herself—"

"I was performing my duty," Longscar said simply. His claws unsheathed as well, shining red. "As you should've done. Had she followed the laws of our Clan, she would still be alive. You'll come to realize, young Sedgestrike, there's no mercy in justice."

"She didn't deserve to die."

Longscar shook his head. "All traitors deserve to die."

An unearthly screech sounded from Sedgestrike's throat then. She launched herself at Longscar. His amber eyes widened in shock, and he careened his long body out of the way with a hiss, sliding into the reeds as the damp earth of the river shore betrayed his footing. Sedgestrike watched him slip hungrily. He would pay for this, she decided. Rage blazed inside her, begging for kindling. Wasting not even a heartbeat, she lunged for him and slashed at his shoulder as he awkwardly rose from his blunder. She caught his skin and tore, sending his hot blood splattering against her face. She winced at the stench of it, but relished the sound of his pained caterwaul.

"So you dare strike a member of the Order?" Longscar bellowed. A chuckle erupted from his throat, growing deeper as he stepped closer to her. His eyes glazed over, hiding his pupils in a film of delight.

"I knew it!" he cheered, blood and saliva bubbling at the corners of his lips. "I knew you couldn't be trusted! I told them—I told them, you see. But no—no they wouldn't listen." Longscar shook his head as if flies came to buzz at his ears, doubting him. "But they were wrong! I have proof!" He brought his paw to the bleeding wound on his shoulder and stared at it. "You aren't one of us," he decided. His glare fixed onto Sedgestrike, and his laughter died. His breathing slowed, and Sedgestrike could hear the screaming of blood pumping in her ears again. "You were never one of us!" he shrieked. With a swipe of his claws, he clipped her jaw.

Taken aback by the blow, Sedgestrike grunted in pain. "You're right," she hissed, "I was never one of you."

The two warriors were trapped in a circle now, each sizing the other up. Sedgestrike observed her opponent's long legs and body. He would have better reach, a wider blow, and faster movements. He was also more experienced. Yet, his movements were labored, and something about him seemed… off. The Longscar she knew was composed and calculating… whatever beast she was regarding now had gone wild with a taste for blood. Perhaps she had a chance. If she could just… weaken him, disable him from fighting and force his surrender, maybe then the rest of her family could escape. She refused to fail and let her siblings meet the same fate as Fernstream.

"You killed her," she repeated. Her eyes were wild with fury, burning like the slowly setting sun. "You'll pay for this."

"I brought her to justice," Longscar reasoned. His lips were peeled back to the gums, which were inflamed from the pressures of biting.

Sedgestrike wondered how deeply he bit Fernstream before she died. She wondered if she begged for her life. Sedgestrike's steps faltered. The sickening thoughts of her mother's final moments made her stomach want to burst from her belly. She wanted to rid of it all, her heart, her lungs, her innards. She wanted to spew it all out so she could feel nothing. Not the rage. Not the regret. Not the bone-crushing, mind-numbing sadness that crippled her now.

Focus, she urged herself. This isn't about Fernstream now. This is about Yewbranch and Mudpaw. You need to protect them. It's what she would've wanted.

She did not realize their dance ended until Longscar was on top of her. She screamed as his fangs tore into the side of her neck. Her vision blurred as the pain consumed her senses. She could only see the haze of mist and the red shine of the sunset, and it mutated into a fiery fog she soon got lost in.

No.

I can't die here.

Sedgestrike's hind legs collided Longscar's belly, digging into the soft flesh there. His wail was cut short, for once his jaws released their grip, her claws raked across his snout. Blood rained down onto her muddy fur. As Longscar recoiled from her, Sedgestrike rose. She shook out her long mane, sending her own blood spattering from her wound into the sodden grass and earth. The bite stung, but the heat of battle was in her now, and she could not stop.

Blood steadily trickled from the wounds on Longscar's belly. "Give up," he spat. "It's all over. Once Whitestar learns what you've done, you'll be good as dead. Let me spare you the shame of a trial."

"Never," Sedgestrike hissed.

Running for him, Longscar quickly dodged her attack, spinning around to rake his claws down her back. Fur and flesh tore with his claws, and she screeched in pain. She spun, rearing up on her hind legs as she turned on him. Before he could slither away, she crashed her large paws on his side, crushing him into the ground with a thud. He writhed beneath her like a snake being strangled, cursing and spitting.

Sedgestrike watched his struggle in a daze. Her golden eyes were wide, unable to focus as he wailed in her grasp.

He killed her. He killed her. He killed her.

Suddenly, the red from the sun seemed to burn brighter. It framed her vision, bleeding into her. She dug her claws deeper into Longscar. He snarled as blood pooled around her claws.

"I'll kill you!" Longscar swore. He pulled himself free of her grip, thrusting himself onto her.

Intertwined with him, she buried her claws into his body as they rolled on the ground, screeching. Fur and blood went airborne and fell around in a macabre shower. It wasn't long until each of the cats bore matted pelts stained red. Longscar twisted against her, his long body coiling like a snake around her until he had her pinned. Her chin was forced into the ground as he stood on top of her back, keeping her legs braced uncomfortably under his weight.

When her vision cleared, she was staring at her mother's dead face. Fernstream's eyes were distant. Her face was frozen in an expression of rage, which had gone slack and lopsided. Blood pooled at her neck, still warm, staining her white and tawny fur with death.

"Is this what you want?" Longscar demanded breathlessly. He gave a shaky chuckle. "Your mother was a fool. No one escapes MarshClan." He forced his paws harder onto Sedgestrike, and she felt her limbs bend at awkward angles. Her tendons stretched tight, ready to snap.

"You're going to end up like her, you know that, right?" Longscar promised, bringing his bloody maw to her face as he leaned down from behind. Together, they were watching Fernstream's corpse. His nose caressed her as he spoke. "I knew I would win. There was always a… weakness in you," he whispered. Another shaky chuckle sounded, and his breath was hot against her cheek. "I wonder what your final words will be?"

Sedgestrike stirred, a whimper escaping her. She couldn't let fear take her over now. But it was there, raw and unshakable, making a home out of her heart, eagerly waiting for it to stop beating.

Her mother's face stared blankly back at her.

"Mother," she whined. She tried to reach her paw out to touch her face, but Longscar only stood harder on her. She cried out in pain, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Don't worry," Longscar assured her. She felt his long claws wrap around her throat. "You'll join her soon enough."

Sedgestrike kept her eyes shut, praying. If this was the end, she at least hoped it would be the cats of StarClan to greet her.

Longscar sighed softly. "It's a shame. It seems I won't be able to fulfill your mother's dying wish."

Sdesgtrike froze, opening her eyes and staring at Fernstream.

"Please, just don't hurt my kits," Longscar repeated, his voice mockingly desperate. His claws trembled against her throat as he laughed.

Sedgestrike could see her then. Fernstream laying on the ground, trembling and struggling as Longscar gazed down on her, pitiless. He could see how his claws traced a permanent smile on her neck as she sputtered out her last words: "Please, just don't hurt my kits."

"No!" Sedgestrike snarled.

She knocked her head back, ramming it into Longscar's jaw with a painful smack. Blood sprinkled onto her forehead as the impact forced him to bite his tongue. While he was stunned, she rolled away, knocking him off his feet. He scrabbled to his paws just as she collided with him, forcing him back onto the ground.

"No!" She struck her claws down, blindly slicing at his body as she pinned him.

"No!" She struck again, her claws tearing as they tore deeper into his flesh.

Longscar was spitting, coughing, as her claws gored at his chest and belly. His kicks and scratches did little to move her, for her weight and her fury were too heavy.

"No! No! No!" Sedgestrike struck him so hard and so numerously, her paws grew numb. She felt the burn of his retaliation coming in shallow scratches, but it did not overwhelm her enough to stop her.

"I've already won," he wheezed, spitting up blood. "You—you can't ever change that."

"Shut up!" Sedgestrike cried. "Shut up!" Her voice wavered into a sob, and she trembled, feeling the fear rise to cool her rage, but the cool turned to steam as Longscar began to laugh again. His laugh was deep and mirthful, and Sedgestrike hated him for it.

Longscar's smile was bleeding now, and his throaty laughs were chopped up by coughs of blood. "You failed." His laughs sounded much like the crows above, cawing eagerly for the feast of corpses to come. "You're no chosen one. You're nothing. You're—"

The crows fled, startled by the strangled yowl that came from Longscar. He was frozen mid-scream and began to gulp for air. Blood poured from the corners of his mouth in rivulets. His neck was pierced, his throat ripped. His claws clung to Sedgestrike's left eye as she buried her teeth deeper inside him, and they curled into her face in turn. All she could think about as she stared down at his horrified face was the pleasure of proving him wrong. He didn't win. Murderers didn't deserve to win.

Longscar tore his claws deeper into her eye and she jerked her head away, startled by the pain. A fleshy tear sounded. Blood dripped from her lips, and bits of Longscar's jugular fell to the blood-soaked at earth.

Somewhere in the distance, thunder boomed.

She found relief in the silence that followed. The rushing river behind her, the crows now calling farewell from leagues away. There was peace. And then she saw Longscar's body.

What remained of his neck was savaged beyond recognition. Flayed by fangs, strips of bloodied flesh flowered from his throat, dripping onto the blooming pool of blood enveloping him. His long body was still twitching. Sedgestrike took a step back, feeling her rage peter out, only to be replaced with a fresh wind of regret.

What have I done?

Longscar's eyes rolled as lifeblood rushed viciously from his mortal wound. Branches of angry veins swarmed at the exposed whites of his eyes, and the once gleaming amber depths turned cloudy. Sedgestrike's breathing shuddered inside of her. Her mouth tasted of blood, hot and sticky, and she began to vomit. The stench of Longscar's dying body and the rancid taste of his flesh on her tongue overcame her. She expelled her disgust with such fervor, she began to sob, collapsing in her blood and fluids as the ache of the battle, the weight of her mother's death, and the truth of her killing all fell on her at once.

Thunder grew louder as she lay there. The sunset was waning, allowing the purplish glow of twilight to take heed and cushion the growing shadows. She did not know how long she lay there, but she found herself crawling for Fernstream. She curled up against her cold body, searching for the last scraps of warmth, only to find nothing but the reek of death and an empty stare. She watched her mother as the river continued to roll by behind them, sending mist into the darkening sky.

Sedgestrike's golden eye rolled, the other too swollen to function, as a rustle sounded. Her ears perked, and she rose, shakily, to her paws. Would it be Yewbranch? Mudpaw? Her heart begged for relief. They needed to leave. But… She glanced nervously at Longscar, only to squeeze her eye shut when nausea returned. She killed him. He was dead. The taste of his blood was still fresh in her mouth.

What would they think of her?

Thunder roared in the distance, chasing away the blood red horizon.