Cloudtail stared in a state of perpetual shock, unable to feel the blood trickling down from his right flank from some random Bloodclan warrior. He did not care which one had inflicted the injury. Even the slight annoyance that he had felt that he had managed to not help Brightheart dodge several other enemies that had been especially ferocious did not bother him- Sandstorm had done that instead. He no longer cared; it paled into severe insignificance to the one thing that mattered to him currently.
There was only one sight worth seeing then, the only one that currently existed. He could not believe it- it could not be true. It should not be.
But the unmoving flame-colored pelt merely a few tail lengths in front of him convinced him of otherwise.
Firestar, the leader of Thunderclan, and for this battle only, Lionclan, was dead.
He shook his head slowly in disbelief, not caring for a moment that he put himself into danger in letting himself be idiotic enough to grieve during a battle.
A small, distant part of him knew that there was no time for that- the Bloodclan warriors, followed by the crazy, bloodthirsty Scourge, wanted the whole forest for themselves, to be free of their sparse Two-leg territory that was only meant for a survival of the fittest among the crazy Two-leg creatures and their unrelenting, merciless natures. Two-legs defended their territory like Cloudtail had done for his clan, giving no thought for who else wanted it- it was their own, and no one else's, not especially a few random silly felines who merely wanted to survive.
Scourge wanted more . . . he wanted the forest, no caring who he drove out.
But that was not quite the point at the moment.
Cloudtail was fighting for something more than Scourge . . . for the clans . . . for the forest . . . for a safer place for his injured friend Brightheart, who he had made sure that she had survived her awful wounds from a crazy pack of loose dogs . . .
. . . For Firestar.
His kin- the only one in the entire forest.
Firestar had brought him in, and had taught him the ways of the forest. Firestar understood that others wanted to jab and even do more than just insult him for daring to bring anything less than forest roots into the clan-filled forest.
He was more than family, though- a leader that had brought his clan to greater strength through Tigerclaw, then Tigerstar's treachery, including the dog pack that had mauled his former denmate Swiftpaw. He had come through with the idea to join all clans to together to fight against his new home, where the cats could eventually be in peace for a while the crazy Bloodclan was driven out for good.
He was almost Thunderclan in himself- his leader, his kin, his mentor, his comrade.
He scowled, his whole being feeling with rage. Scourge had killed all of that in just a few rabbit hop's time, and with that, perhaps the entire future of Lionclan. It almost seemed that way for the latter, though common sense told him that even the other leaders could be gone also- Leopardstar could be lying flat under several ferocious enemy savages, Blackfoot downed in a few powerful blows. The older cat Tallstar could have very well been scoured in the beginning of the battle- he had not seen him since before the beginning of the raging battle.
If one leader could live, he wished it was his own- which other cat would want not want that?
He then remembered that even Bluestar had died, and Firestar, then Fireheart, had taken her place. If a leader died, the deputy took over the clan. Thunderclan had not died when Bluestar had sacrificed herself saving his then deputy kin from the dog pack. Even if Fireheart had been killed afterword, without naming a deputy afterword, Thunderclan would live.
He knew that . . . but could not seem to believe it.
Not this time.
He had not expected it to actually happen, but the proof was still in the body in front of him.
His clan leader was dead, and he had done nothing to stop it. He had seen it happen, seen who had done it, but had been powerless to do anything.
He growled slightly, but it was mostly at himself for not doing enough to save Lionclan's leader than could have saved the forest. The great Starclan, who Firestar revered like most of the mouse-brained cast in the forest, had done nothing to save the fearless leader who had been savaged by the leader of the enemy that threatened all four clan's very existence.
. . . He could do something, though. It might prove futile, like obviously his former kin that had died right in front of him, but he could try something. It was better than mourning in the middle of a battle that still needed to be fought.
No matter what, Scourge must not be allowed to win the battle. He himself might lose, but surely another cat might take over if he failed, adding more wounds to eventually take down the crazy tyrannical dictator that threatened the lives of the clans that Firestar had fought for.
But of course, he could not just expect someone to do his job for him. He could not let someone else take over if he did not fight well enough. He should not. He had not expected to challenge the sole leader of the enemy, but he would do what he could to avenge Firestar's death and do his part in the battle- using his entire experience in battle training, his full self in fighting, and nothing else.
Cloudtail looked up to see the small Bloodclan leader, his dark pelt slightly mottled by the spiked teeth on his collar, his eyes shining in triumph at his victory over the leader of the group that dared to challenge him. If the idiotic Bloodclan leader had thought that no one else would fight him after Lionclan's leader was dead, then he was wrong- very wrong.
Firestar had dared to fight against him. He would, also.
The warrior blood in him roared. With a blood curling yowl, Cloudtail sprung at his leader's murderer, landing squarely on top of the short, raggedy fur. Unexpectedly, his foe wrenched him easily to the ground, knocking his breath from him instantly, his mouth fur of grass and sand. He spat it out, and lunged again.
There was much more important things than dodging the ferocious blows of those long claws, avoiding the shining sharp spikes on the collar that whipped past his fur by a mere whisker. He had to attack, to strike as best as he could for Lionclan- for Firestar.
He had managed to grab onto the smaller but more powerful cat's hind leg, when he heard a strange, almost familiar yowl. Unprepared, he was thrown down again, and Cloudtail prepared to lunge for another assault- and stopped.
He had not immediately recognized the voice that had startled Scourge so, nor that the Bloodclan leader had ignored him long enough to stop attacking him. He shakily stood on his paws to see that the enemy's gaze was focused on something else- someone else.
Cloudtail's blue eyes widened in shock- it was as if he was seeing the ghost of the cat he wanted to see alive the most. But Scourge was racing toward the cat that had yelled a battlecry, wanting to attack, and the flame colored pelt racing toward his for was much too opaque to be a mere mirage.
Firestar was alive . . . again.
He briefly remembered the strange story about his leader receiving nine lives from Starclan, but had then dismissed it as nonsense. But just a short while ago, he had seen Firestar lifeless on the ground. He had.
But his formerly dead leader was now streaking toward the enemy with sheer vigor as if he had not just died after all.
Cloudtail then blinked as he thought saw mere wisps of color streaking beside Firestar that was not the grass or sand beneath him. He almost thought that he glimpsed various hues of red, brown, and a startling grey-blue that almost could be the outline of shining fur. The latter translucent form startled him- it almost seemed as if the strange misty shape was his former leader, Bluestar. But of course if could not be true . . .
He blinked and took a few paw steps forward, nearly tumbling down on the sandy earth. He hissed a bit, but knew that he had to rest only for a few mouse beats- then fight again.
He soon joined the fray again, fighting for the leader that apparently would not die after being killed only once. A short while later, Firestar had managed to finish what he had started, and what Cloudtail had intended to do- defeat the true enemy. Scourge was down, and the now leaderless Bloodcan enemies were being driven out of the Clan's territory for good.
Cloudtail huffed in satisfaction, seeing them flee. He then remembered Firestar- his leader that had fought much more than he thought he could. He certainly had not imagined his death, but Scourge had been killed once, and had stayed that way.
The same was not for his fearless leader, though, or so he had thought. Firestar had come back, and had fought again, somehow, unless he had actually imagined it with his many wounds.
He turned to glimpse a familiar flame-colored pelt standing firmly on the earth, and blinked in the brightening sun- once, twice. He let out a delighted purr as the powerful feline there did not disappear from his view. Firestar was still there, his pelt ragged with wounds in the sunlight, but definitely as alive as he had been before the battle.
His kin was alive, and would most likely stay that way for many moons, fearlessly serving his clan, just as he had before.
Cloudtail managed to force the most of the confusing thoughts from his mind and determinedly padded toward his leader. However, one stray thought stayed with him, no matter how much he attempted to claw it out.
. . . He had not wanted to believe it before, but maybe- just maybe- there was such a thing as Starclan, after all.