Disclaimer: If I owned warriors, why would I be here?

A/n- Thanks to all reviewers!

Chapter 6: Sorrow

Riverstripe took one last look around her home. Her old home. No one could live here now. Not only would they be haunted by memories, they would be in danger of a second attack. She sighed. A lot had happened in a few days.

The wolves had disappeared as suddenly as they had come. No clues to where they had gone, just as their were none to where they had come from. The Clan had stayed up late, burying their dead, seeing who was alive, missing, or deceased. Only eleven others had arrived alive, plus her and Wren made thirteen. Three queens, one with two kits almost ready to become trainees, two with unborn children. They wouldn't arrive for many moons now, as the queens had just moved into the nursery. One tom, a guard, two soldiers, and one she-cat Hunter. Much to Riverstripe's relief Fernpelt had survived as well.

The dawn after the massacre a messenger from the Clan of the Hunting Cat had told them that his clan was heading for the Sacred Grounds in two days to bury the rest of the dead. They would spend a night near there then head out in the morning. If the others wanted to come with them, the temporary leader of the Clan would happily share leadership.

She had decided to go. There was safety in numbers and the Clans had to leave anyway. The cats followed her and Wren's orders without complaint. They were not looking forward to seeing the rest of their dead, but they knew they couldn't stay here.

Thunderfoot sat beside the tabby Windheart, who had taken control over the Clan of the Running Cat, and looked at his meager party of survivors. Bristle and Mouse had obviously survived, along with eight others. One elder, two Hunters, an apprentice, two soldiers, and a Guard. He sighed. They had found the Guard wounded near the Sacred Grounds. He was still weak from two nights losing blood, but he would live.

None of the cats had entered the Sacred Grounds yet. They had met here and Thunderfoot had started talking with Windheart. They were reluctant to see the sight of the massacre, two days gone. At last, once the sun was high they knew they had to keep moving. They started toward the Sacred Grounds.

Windheart padded beside Thunderfoot. Behind her, her clan mingled with his, brought together by grief. Only an older trainee, the training master, Whitefoot, two Guards, three Hunters and a soldier had made it out alive. She sighed. The weight of the Clan rested heavily on her shoulders.
Shadowpelt carefully padded the soil down on one of the graves. His Clan had arrived even before the Clan of the Hunting Cat. An awful sight had met their eyes.

Bodies, bloated from the sun, were already beginning to rot. Limbs had stiffened into gruesome positions, the cats faces twisted in fear and horror forever. Despite the rancid smell of rot, the Clan had started the funeral, under Shadowpelt's instruction. Or what was left of the once mighty clan. Only Moren, two soldiers, three apprentices, a queen, Sheba, and two Hunters had survived. Along with him that made a grand total of eleven.

Upon hearing a scrabbling noise he looked toward the cliff, squinting his eyes against the sun. Two clans, the Clan of the Hunting Cat and the Clan of the Running Cat, scrambled down the cliff. They paused, gazing around in horror at the sights before a few quick words from the pale tabby she-cat and gray tom sent the cats to work.

Riverstripe looked around her, at the forms of the sleeping cats, then turned to watch the sun rise. The last to arrive, the others had helped her Clan bury their dead. Now she crouched in a small cave with the others on a cliff off the Sacred Grounds. None of them had been brave enough to spend a night at the small, inviting oasis.

"It's hard to believe it. Everything we've ever known, gone. In one night." Riverstripe whipped around, and founder herself face to face with the gray tom, Thunderfoot. She relaxed. "I still can't believe we have to leave." The tom nodded and the two cats sat in silence for a while. Moments later, Windheart joined them. After a while even Shadowpel, drawn, like them, by the weight of their Clans, came to crouch beside them, watching the rising sun. As the sun crested the trees, Shadowpelt left and Thunderfoot rose. "We should wake the others. We'll hunt, then head out." They nodded and moved away.

Windheart sprinted across a small stretch of moorland. The last time she would ever hunt on her territory. Never again would this grass know the touch of her paws, of any paws. It would just be, until time folded in on itself and everything vanished. She took comfort, though, in the fact that the same sun and moon that had shone down upon days of happiness shone down upon her now. Tears streamed down her face to mingle with the wind. (a/n-cats can't cry. I don't care. Now they can)
Shadowpelt stood at the mouth of the cave, prey clutched tightly in his jaws. The others, he knew, had gone back to hunt on their land one last time. He hadn't. He knew he wouldn't have been able to handle it. All the memories. The joy and sorrow. But mostly the sorrow. He watched as the other cats began streaming back toward the cave. They would leave as soon as everyone had eaten.
Thunderfoot took the lead as the party headed out. They would move through the territory of his old Clan. Once free, they would head north toward the distant mountains. Perhaps a new home could be found on the other side, with a whole range of rock and earth to separate them from their pasts.
Riverstripe sighed in relief as they finally reached the foot of the mountains. They had been traveling for days and the peaks had seemed to get no closer. She glanced up as far as she could and gulped. The tips were lost in mist. She had never been good with heights and it looked like this journey was going to test her restraint. She shook her head. The Clans came first! She had to think of their safety before her own kit-ish fears. She hurried forward to Thunderfoot, who was speaking quietly with Windheart. "… what to do next?" To everyone's surprise Shadowpelt spoke up. He rarely said anything to anyone but his tabby friend, Sheba. "We should rest here for the night. We'll tackle those," he jerked his head up to the mountains, "tomorrow, when we've had some rest and food." Thunderfoot and Windheart nodded and Riverstripe found herself agreeing.

Tomorrow they would tackle the mountains.

I know. Very short. W/e. I was in a rush, but had to get something up. Again, I apologize for any spelling, grammar, punctuation etc. mistakes. Its late and I'm tired. Good night.