"I won't say goodbye my friend, for you and I will meet again."

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Blood dripped into the edges of Dimstar's vision as he remained locked in a battle with Archangel. Both leaders were battered, their forms scored with multiple wounds that gushed with a crescent liquid. The liquid dripped onto the snow, staining the pure white snow into a blood red color. Their blows were strong and their claws lacerated one another's skin continuously. The battle was growing from a small flame into a raging wildfire.

Dimstar had the advantage so far in the battle. Although Archangel had a more masculine form, Dimstar easily maneuvered and dodged Archangel's attacks while having more agility and focus than Archangel. The tyrant seemed to be raging with agression, adrenaline pulsing through him that made every attack that landed on Dimstar a hurricane of agony. Dimstar wasn't going to let himself be blinded by the rage he had towards Archangel -- not yet.

The russet tabby finally managed to pin the pure white tom down after a long tussle of flying fur and blood. Dimstar stood over Archangel, his gaze meeting the tom's as he watched him struggle to kick free. Archangel's gaze danced with apprehension as if it was sparks set loose by a brewing, starving fire. Dimstar watched the fire brew and grow as his form loomed over Archangel.

Perhaps truly the white tom was just an absolute coward. A coward who hid behind his followers to make him look as if he was mighty. Dimstar's teeth bared at the thought, a snarl erupting from him. It angered the russet tom to think of how Archangel used all of those rogues. How Archangel could kill without a flinch at all. Should I give him a taste of what it feels like? Should I kill him? Dimstar questioned himself.

It was as if Dimstar was deciding which path to select. One path led to the sun stretching over the horizon and smiles draped upon every cat's visage. The other path led to an everlasting darkness, cries of agony and grief echoing through the air and never to fade. Or did both paths lead to the same fate?

Dimstar had the fate of all cats around him placed right in his paws. He could choose whether to carefully balance the fate on his paws or let it crumble to the earth and be lost forever. Any choice he made could be an immense disaster, or could be make life better for all.

Before Dimstar could finish his thoughts and develop a plan, Archangel managed to free a paw. The tyrant's paw flew forward and his claws tore through the skin and fur on Dimstar's cheek. It stung as if thousands of wasp were furiously attacking him and blood dripped swiftly from the immense, profound wound. Dimstar's jaws parted to release a yowl of pain and as he was distracted, Archangel took the moment to free himself from the russet leader.

Archangel's hind paws pummeled Dimstar's exposed belly, kicking the russet tabby off of him. Dimstar flew back but caught himself, landing on all fours and skidding through the snow. His fur was ruffled and masked over with streaks of blood, his eyes narrowed and teeth clenching. Dimstar could feel rage pulsing through him as he glanced up and prepared to launch a blow at the tyrant.

Before Dimstar could do so, a yowl howl of utter agony tore through the air. His ears shot straight up and his eyes widened at the familiar yowl that made his breath hitch and his jaws gap in complete shock and terror. The russet tabbies focus snapped away from Archangel in an instant and turned to face the source of the yowl.

In the center of camp lay a catastrophe that Dimstar's eyes wished to never see again: the murder scene of a close friend and Clanmate. A pool of blood formed around the three shapes that were aet in the center of camp. One was the same she-cat who stopped Dimstar from being able to save his own son from the claws of Archangel. The other was Wolf, a loyal and devoted follower to Archangel. They both stood on separate sides of a body that lay there, matted with blood and limp.

Her body was streaked with the crescent liquid that stained the battle field. Wounds were planted amongst her form, leaking with blood that sinked into the snow. Her eyes were wide yet cloudy and lifeless, her jaws still gaped slightly as if she was struggling to cry out for help. Tufts of her orange patched fur was torn loose from her pelt and lay in the snow around her. She was gone, murdered. She was never coming back.

Dimstar's eyes were wide with terror and his breaths escaped him in loud, ragged huffs that formed into clouds of smile and ascending into the sky. His limbs trembled as if he was being rattled furiously by a monster roaring by and making the earth below him quake. Ears flattening back against his head, Dimstar felt as if his whole world had crumbled to ashes and soared away with the wind right before his eyes. He had lost another Clanmate, family member, a role model.

Dimstar took a few hesitant steps forward, a nervous lump forming in his throat. Everything seemed to go quiet around him besides the quiet snickering from Archangel's followers as they celebrated the first kill of the battle. He blocked out all the noises around him though as he approached the body, his breathing hitched and his tail sliding across the snow. He wanted to collapse beside her body and cry out to his ancestors, asking for mercy and revival. Asking for another chance. Why couldn't I save him...why couldn't I save her...

It was as if Quailchaser's body lay before him once again, battered and limp. His chest no longer heaved with every breath and no smile filled with absolute happiness was plastered upon his visage no more. But instead of Quailchaser, a different Clanmate lay limp before him. Another loss in the family that tore his heart to multiple shreds. It was all his fault. He failed them.

"M-Minktalon?"

The name slid off of Dimstar's tongue like poison, drenching into its victim and leaving behind an agonizing roar of terror and sorrow. He felt like his head was whirled in circles, blurring his vision and causing him to receive a painful migraine. His claws dug into the snow and his teeth clenched together tightly as he struggled to hold himself back from crying out in melancholy for the loss of Minktalon.

"Aww, poor Dimstar," Wolf suddenly spoke up, circling the leader as he snickered in satisfaction. "You lost another cat, huh? Must hurt mainly because it's all your fault. Can't believe your pathetic ancestors selecting such a frail failure for the rebellion's leader."

The tom's words stabbed into Dimstar's heart like sharp thorns, but instead of harming it him it did the complete opposite. Adrenaline pulsed through Dimstar as his eyes were set ablaze, fed by his overwhelming rage for Archangel and his followers. His eyes transformed into slits and his tail rose to lash to and fro. He parted his jaws to reveal his fangs, his claws flexing with the urge to lacerate Wolf's skin.

It was time to make them all pay.

"Rebellion advance!" Dimstar called out clamorously, his signal for the second group to charge into camp echoing through the camp.

In a flash, noise erupted once again and broke the silence. Paws thundered against the earth as Birdcry charged into camp with her second group bolting after her. Yowls flew loose of their bowels as they leaped into battle, colliding with their enemies. Every cat seemed to charge back into battle around Dimstar, besides for one.

She stood frozen behind Dimstar, her eyes wide and jaws parted in utter shock. Her eyes were brimmed with puddles of tears as she took hesitant steps forward, silent cries escaping her. She collapsed to the ground beside Dimstar, digging her muzzle into Minktalon's fur.

"B-Birdcry-"

"Let her mourn."

Dimstar turned to face the source of the voice that spoke up. Splashsky stood behind Birdcry, his face holding an emotionless, dim expression. Birdcry was his mother, and seeing her lose another family member, also the love of her life, was heartbreaking. Splashsky had experienced the same thing when Quailchaser died.

The rebellion leader felt a tornado of sympathy whirl inside of him. He hung his head and shut his eyes for a moment, a sigh escaping him. "Splashsky, help Birdcry get Minktalon's body to where Slap is. If she wishes to mourn and keep her body safe, she needs to be there," Dimstar ordered in a soft, low voice.

Splashsky was silent for a moment as Dimstar rose his head to glance at the young warrior. Their gazes met and Splashsky suddenly pressed forward, a frown upon his face. The leader's eyes widened when Splashsky suddenly nuzzled Dimstar's shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut to hide the tears that tried to seep free. Splashsky then pulled away and nodded to Dimstar.

"Yes...Dimstar," Splashsky mumbled before turning to help assist Birdcry, comforting his mother as he did.

Dimstar stood frozen in place for a second as he stared after Birdcry and Splashsky as they dragged Minktalon's body away. He felt tears sting his eyes as a breeze blew by and ruffled his fur, his gaze still locked on them. His teeth were tightly pressed together as he struggled to hold on his cries and anger. He needed to release it all. He needed to continue the war, and not let another innocent member of the family fall.

Dimstar turned when he heard a yelp of fear. His gaze landed on Stoatpaw, a cowardly apprentice who chose to stay with Archangel instead of risking his life. His mentor, Fox, had turned on him, and it looked as if the ginger tom had already raked his claws across the apprentice's muzzle. Stoatpaw cowered before Fox, his eyes round with fear as he shook with apprehension.

"You mangy, worthless peice of fur!" Fox spat, looming over his apprentice like a tree would to the forest ground. "You didn't even budge when those cats attacked me! You can't do anything-"

Before Fox could finish, anger had already took full control of Dimstar. The tabby lunged forward and slammed into Fox, lacerating his claws across the tom's shoulder. The ginger tom howled out in pain as he struggled to stand regain his balance once he stood back up. Dimstar couldn't waste his time fighting though continuously, he needed to save an innocent life from possible death.

Dimstar turned and instantly dashed for Stoatpaw. The apprentice was puny and light, an easy thing to rescue. He grabbed the apprentice by the scruff, hauling him slightly off the ground to carry him. He was more severely injured than Dimstar thought, as he could now tell from the closer view. Multiple wounds lined his belly and side, seeping with scarlet red liquid.

"Come on Stoatpaw, I'll get you to Slap," Dimstar reassured the apprentice, whose flank heaved swiftly as his heart pounded.

Dimstar glanced over his shoulder when he heard a hiss echo behind him. The ginger loyalist had sprung after Dimstar, his paws outstretched as he neared him. Dimstar narrowed his eyes and acted fast, putting all his weight on his front paws and kicking out his back paws. The blow landed successfully -- and rather strongly -- straight into Fox's face, messing up his whole tactic to take Dimstar and Stoatpaw down.

The russet leader turned to eye Fox, who was laying on the ground when one eye shut as pain soared through him. Dimstar met the tom's gaze, which was now filled with fear and worry as Dimstar took a step forward. He let go of Stoatpaw for a second and set him down as he approached Fox.

Fox cowered back with his tail in between his legs as Dimstar advanced towards him. He backed Fox into the camp wall, where the tom began to lower himself to the ground as he trembled. Dimstar's eyes flashed with hatred, but he didn't raise a claw or part his jaws to harm the tom.

Dimstar instead crouched down and pressed his muzzle to Fox's, face-to-face with the tom. Their gazes locked and a rumbling growl rose in Dimstar's throat, empowering, threatening words sliding loose from his mouth.

"Don't mess with my family ever again."