Fought your fight,

Bought your lie,

And in return I lost my life.

Survivor's Guilt, Rise Against

This lack of reviews is really becoming annoying, it takes less than a minute so why don't you do it?

Thistle could barely remember the days passed as a clan cat now, the memories had faded quickly after she had ran away with Coal, Spider and Sky. But Sky was dead now, her mangled body surely resting at the foot of a cliff, Spider had turned bitter and Coal didn't laugh anymore. It was as if the stone flanks of the mountains where slowly killing any emotion their heart managed to spark, tuning them ice cold. Maybe it was true, maybe her mother really hated her, maybe Hawkscreech and Echostream where better off without them. She didn't want to think about it anymore, she didn't even know why they had entered the mountains.

Even if they got out of this silent world ice they would be changed forever, the cold rocks where cruel and stalked each one of your mistakes, waiting to kill you off.

No, she couldn't think like that, not now that she had those kits to protect, and Sky's only kit, Flight, needed every support she could have to survive the harsh blizzard. They where three, tiny and helpless but sparking a burning fire in her heart, she would kill, she would steal, she would burn her friends to protect them. Her gaze rested on each one of them.

Glimmen, the oldest and the strongest kit had a dark grey pelt and amber eyes of the most beautiful kind.

Ruhe, her soft tortoiseshell pelt, her long slender limbs and her acid green eyes where beautiful, she would be envied by many.

Ansturm, she was a short, skinny kit, but her ruffled silver pelt was thick and her yellow eyes shone with an unusual strengh for such a small kit.

They where perfect she decided, and nothing could ever part them. Maybe she could even start her own group, the kits would grow big and strong, fed by eagles and melted ice. They where her only reason to continue now and she would not fail, they will survive.

Once Coal had returned she voiced her thoughts, telling him about the plan, that they would live all happily together. The more she talked, the more she became sure that she would succeed. And even if he scorned her, Coal's eyes held a bit of their old fire.

Once they where all reunited in their shelter, all standing in front of her. Spider, the tom with the frozen heart, Flight, the molly who loved the others more than herself, Coal, her cold but faithful mate and finally Glimmen, Ruhe and Ansturm, her most precious kits. Even if she kitted only a few days ago she knew they had to move, to lead those cats who trusted her to a better home. Even if they didn't leave the mountains they had to go, cross the empty land that stood between them and a better place to live.

Her thoughts where interrupted by an unknown cat crashing into the cave. Surprisingly enough it was a kitten. Her originally white fur was matted with dirt and wellowish until the underbelly, her eyes, huge pools of sapphire, where dull and crusted by sickness. To add to her miserable appearance her tiny body was frail and laced with scars, some still seeping with pus, and her fur hung loosely on her bony frame, her ribs poking out all too clearly. Once she realised where she had fallen she scrambled backwards, fear written over her delicate features.

"The Master will be unhappy." she muttered weakly, stumbling over her own paws in her rush to exit the place.

Thistle frowned, how come that such a small kit was out there alone, if this 'Master' she mentioned was behind that it was surely a cruel cat. She glanced at the precious bundles laying in the moss, that poor thing was a kitten too. A rush of protectiveness sized her heart and she snatched the kitten right under the nose of a hissing Spider. The tiny bundle of fur trashed around, hissing and growling all she could. Even Coal seemed impressed at the amount of curses the white kit spat out. Thistle just held tighter, trying to coax the small ball of fury into trusting her, seemingly unfazed by the filth and fleas covering the shivering body.

A hiss came from the entrance of the cave, apparently the kitten wasn't alone because a very hansome and very furious tom was standing in the dying light.

"How dare you!" growled the stanger, pratically seething in anger.

While Flight, being the soft hearted cat she was, cowered in a corner Coal just chuckled, brushing off this display of rage.

"And who do you think you are to make such threats?" hissed Spider, he had a cruel grin on his face.

The it suddently stopped struggling, her body becoming limp. "What the fuck are you doing here Frosty?", her hiss was ice cold.

"Frosty?" coughed spider, anyone could see that he was trying hard not to laugh, so hard in fect that his sides hurt."

"Frosty Drop Off The Willow Tree to serve you dear" mewed back Frosty, his voice laced with irony. "I could say the same for you Faithful Shadow Of The Everlasting Master." he said, a smirk smothering his black and white face.

The cats of the Hord are in fact very distant relatives of the Tribe of Rushing Water, that explains the naming system. The Hord valorises some cats more than overs despite all the pretty talk the Master puts up and so only those cats are named. Unlike the Tribe they do not name kits at birth but only when they realise a special feat, those names can change and are a bit longer than average tribe names too. As you can guess Shadow got named by the fact the Master took a liking to her and requires her presence most of the time thus making her a shadow, her appearance does not matter that is why her white coat may seem weird to you.

"Fuck off smartass." she sneered good naturedly, slipping effortessly through the clutches of the queen.

Thistle was gaping at the pair, oddly enougth they got along perfectly, anybody with a little frain could see that their spats where only a facade. The language of the kit and the scars that marred her frail body said otherwise but the gleam of contempt in her eyes meant she actually enjoyed her life, rough as it could be. And Thistle could simply not understand, who would willingly live like that?

And then the furious growl of Spider could be heard, turning her head she saw his jaws where frothing and his face was so twisted by fury that it was unreckonisable, he had lost control. She opened her jaws, she wanted to warn them, say that there was danger, that he had gone insane. But then his murderous fury would turn to her and despite her fighting skills it was Spider she was facing, and she had her kits to protect.

Shadow knew what the black tom was up to, she had seen that look before. Usually he was slaughered before he could kill someone but accidents happen, and there was no way he would leave her be. There was only one solution, run and leave Frosty. Her heart clenched painfully at the fought but she ignored him, she could not afford to be soft, she was certainly not weak. Her treacherous mind told her he would die, or worse; he would be awfully maimed and she would have to end his suffering. Dhe did not want to go there, Shadow without Frosty was as unthinkable than Shadow without Master, and that was very. The doubt and guild gnawed and bit at her stomach as she slunk backwards but she didn't falter, she didn't help him as the insane tom slammed into him and as the first drops of blood hit the snow, blossoms of scarlet, she turned tail and fled.

There was screeches and cries, she could hear a female voice beg him to stop, the gruesome sound of torn flesh still rang in her mind.

There was suddently a cry so high and so feral that she thought it was something else, but from the silence that followed she knew it was all over, she had caused Frosty's death. She stumbled through the snow and rocks, her pads where torn and pink trais stained the immaculate snow. Sha was cold, she was hurt, she was hungry and she had no one to protect her. Looking up to the jagged peaks she realised for the first time how small she was, how she could fall and die and that the world would not notice her abscence, that she was alone. But as scared as she was she contined to stumble blindly through the snow, to put one bloody paw before the other and oblige her aching muscles to move, just to continue to run, to flee from the others and the scream and the death. She was a nothing for the mountains, and this world eats the wounded ones.

She couldn't understand, it was the rule; fight or die, but she did neither and it left her confused. She knew she wouldn't die tonight, they would not chase her and she knew where to find shelter in the most empty ice field, so why did dread follow her around?

Something had snapped when she understood the meaning of the scream, what Frosty's death implied. She had fougt somehow, by sending him to die, and she had won the fight against the pain, the guilt, against herself. She tipped her head back and laughed, it was not a happy sound. She laughed until her ribs ached and the little sanity she had left was ebbing away. Who cared if he died, it wasn't because he had a name too that he was important, the Master would be happy that she was that strong. The guilt was nothing more than a dull sensation now and euphoria sent her running in the snow, skidding batween razor sharp rocks and spraying powdery snow around.

She had survived and the Hord was close.

They had begged him to leave, the couple would do anything for him to go, they where afraid. Somewhere he felt bad for the pain he had caused but it was just a pat so small and insignificant that he didn't notice it.

They would give him anything, they just wanted him to go. They had betrayed him.

So, standing over the still warm corpse, he dipped his paw in the pool of blood and walked towards the kits. Of course Thistle had tried to stop him, but he was stronger and she knew she had no chance to take over. Very delicately he smudged the blood on the pelt of the chosen kit, the scruffy and smallest kit, pretty ones didn't live long. His lime eyes scorched Thistle's pelt.

"This kit is mine now, she has been tainted by blood and she will never forget the stench. This is the price of my departure."

Thistle looked furious and for a moment he thought she might defy him, try to kill him for what he just did. But she didn't and any protest she was about to formulate died in her throat as she shook. He turned his gaze to Coal, daring him to care. But his gaze was colder than usual and any concern for the kit's fate, if there was any, was carefully concealed under an icy mask.

"Then take it" he hissed, his tortoiseshell pelt still smooth, "She is weak and ugly and i it wasn't for the mother I would have drowned it."

Spider smirked, a sadistic air on his face. They both ignored the outraged gasp from Thistle, there was nothing to say to her.

"Good to know you still are the cruel bastard I once met Coal, I would have proposed for you to come with us but you seem too caring about this molly."

The tortoiseshell tom didn't awnser, his gaze held an angry flame now and Spider knew it was time to go. He looked at Flight, scearching her evergreen gaze for doubt, a sign that she hated him. He found none.

"I shall follow you father." she mewed, that was the first time she looked strong.

So she had knew what he thought, sensed his doubt towards her strengh and reassured him in this regard. He was very pleased with her althought he didn't voice it, she began at least to learn.

"Come then." his voice was ice cold and he gestured for her to carry the bloodied kit. She obeyed without qustion and didn't even wince as the metalling tang of blood tainted her mouth, she had a loyalty to prove.

Slowly they trekked through the cold steppes and contourned the bare peaks of the montains. Then he found the trail he was looking for. It wasn't much; a kicked stone, a whiff of her scent, bloody pawsteps in the hard snow.

"Well my dear, it looks like we've found our goal."

Shadow had been wrong, very wrong, and they where coming to get her.