#mistspring

Peppermask came out of the shadows near the den to stand by his side. “Fireheart. I was going to wake you at moonhigh, but…” She cast her eyes away, and he followed his friend’s gaze to where Lionheart and Whitestorm were sitting outside the nursery, discussing something with each other. “Bluestar is refusing to move. Whitestorm went in to tell her it was time to name a new deputy, and she sent him away!”

He bristled in shock as he glanced up to the sky above. The moon had well passed the highest point of its arc in the sky, and was now reaching towards the edges of the treeline. “But the code says-”

“I know. We all do.” The gray tabby shook her head in bewilderment. “No one knows what to do. Everyone’s listening to Whitestorm, at least for now, but he can’t succeed Bluestar if- if something else-”

She broke off with a shiver, and Fireheart quickly pressed comfortingly into her side. Even though they both had known that Tigerclaw was a code-breaker and killer, never would they have expected him to boldly allow a pack of bloodthirsty rogues into the heart of their camp so he could kill Bluestar. He couldn’t fault her for feeling the same loss of security that they all were. “Has this ever happened before? Perhaps there’s something in the code…” He trailed off, not sure what he was hoping for her to answer. Surely a deputy betraying their own leader was unprecedented.

They sat there in silence for a moment as she considered it. “Sometimes Starclan sends a sign for who the next deputy should be.” Peppermask mewed slowly, her eyes narrowed in heavy concentration. “It would be a healer that interprets their will, of course. If something were to happen to Bluestar with no deputy announced, then it’s possible Yellowfang or Dewpaw could appoint a deputy in her stead. Whether the Clan would accept that…”

He knew what she meant, even though neither said it aloud. Yellowfang was an outsider, a former Shadowclanner, and though no cat knew it besides him and Dewpaw she could no longer speak to Starclan. If she announced the new deputy - the new leader, if Bluestar died without a replacement - then there would be those that saw it as Shadowclan interference, even though he doubted it would mean a revolt. Meanwhile, Dewpaw was still only an apprentice, and while she had trained faithfully the elders would likely claim she was too young to be interpreting such an important sign, and their word held great weight within the Clan. 

He glanced at the healer’s den, wondering if either were inside, or if they were in the nursery trying to coax out Bluestar. He couldn’t see inside the dark rocky entrance to tell if any cats were moving within the den, and instead turned his gaze back to camp. He could see and hear cats all around camp discussing the same thing he and Peppermask were; the elders, in particular, looked nearly mutinous as they glared angrily at Lionheart and Whitestorm guarding the nursery entrance.

Even as they talked, no cat moved to try and challenge the two toms to access Bluestar. Every cat knew that she trusted the weight of Whitestorm’s word the most; if he hadn’t been able to get her to name a deputy, no cat could. As much as it pained Fireheart to sit by and watch, he knew there was nothing he could do but speculate. He didn’t control Bluestar; only Starclan could do that, now.

“What about Tigerclaw?” He asked at last, turning his attention to things he could control. “I know every cat did their best to teach the rogues a lesson, but if they come back now, while we’re still recovering…”

“Whitestorm already sent a patrol after him, a little while before sunset. He left across the Thunderpath with the rest of the rogues.” She curled her lip and looked away into the bramble wall surrounding camp, as though she could see all the way to the dark stone border. “We didn’t try to follow him beyond that.”

Though it troubled him to hear that they had so readily absorbed the traitor, he was glad to hear that they had at least departed the territory. Hopefully Tigerclaw wouldn’t return until they’d had a chance to strengthen their defenses. “I hope they stay gone.” He muttered as he surveyed the camp, taking stock of each cat. His eyes narrowed as he realized that one warrior in particular was missing. “I don’t see your brother.” He hissed quietly.

The molly’s green eyes narrowed and her nose wrinkled at the mention of the gray tom. “I haven’t seen him since sunhigh. He told Tigerclaw he was going ‘hunting’.” They shared a glance, knowing full well what Graystripe had really meant by that. “I doubt he even knows that-”

There was a flurry of commotion by the nursery, and Peppermask cut herself off as the two of them turned to see Bluestar emerge from the well-defended brambles. The silver leader looked thin and gaunt, like a frail skeleton of a cat, as she shambled over to the Highrock. Around the clearing, cats slowly padded out to sit beneath its shadow, all eyes on their leader. There was no need to call them together, and she made no attempt to as she turned to face them.

Her eyes briefly swept over the crowd, but she seemed almost as though she was looking through everyone, like they were mere shadows in her path. “I will only say this once, so listen well.” Bluestar rasped, her voice barely audible even as a chilling hush had fallen over the clearing.

“I say these words before Starclan, so they may hear and approve of my choice.” Fireheart briefly glanced to the sky; though he could not see the stars through the foliage concealing camp, he knew that they were looking down on Thunderclan at that very moment. He looked back at Bluestar as she paused, wondering if he had missed her next words, but she was looking at her paws as though lost in thought. Had she forgotten who she was going to name?

The crowd began glancing uneasily at each other, the silence growing painfully tense as they waited for her to speak. Just as Whitestorm was stepping forward to stand by her side, she raised her head and he stilled.

“Fireheart will be the new deputy of Thunderclan.”

He blinked in confusion at the sound of his name. That couldn’t be right. He knew the code just as well as any warrior here; a warrior had to have at least one apprentice before becoming deputy. That automatically exempted him, as well as Willowbranch and her kits. “Bluestar, I-”

As he raised his head to meet the leader’s gaze, he realized that she was already gone, stumbling across camp with Whitestorm gently guiding her. He realized with a jolt that most of the cats were staring at him, and a great cacophony had started up while he was in his thoughts.

“Don’t lead her away!” It was Patchpelt snarling after Whitestorm, who didn’t seem to be listening to what was going on behind them. “Make her come back here and name a real deputy!”

“Fireheart is a real deputy!” Cinderspark snapped at the elder, her thick fur bristling angrily. “I’m sure he’ll do better than Tigerclaw!”

“But the code says that a deputy must have had at least one apprentice. Fireheart hasn’t mentored any cat before.” Willowbranch fretted, turning her eyes up to the sky. “And that a deputy must be named before moonhigh. Bluestar has broken the code today; Starclan will be angry with us now.”

“Willowbranch is right.” One-eye pointed out softly, even as her good eye turned on the ginger tom in question. “It doesn’t matter if Fireheart would do a fine job. In Starclan’s eyes, he is not deputy.”

“Would you drag her back out here?” Mistspring spoke up from beside her former apprentice, her voice raspy and straining from her injury only moons prior. “You all saw the state that she was in. She doesn’t have the strength to do a proper ceremony. Whether we like it or not, Fireheart’s the deputy we have right now. We can worry about what Starclan thinks later, when she’s recovered.”

“Starclan was supposed to give her the strength to recover when they brought her back to life!” Smallear yowled from the other side of the crowd. “How do we know that her condition isn’t a punishment for being late with the ceremony?”

Fireheart flinched as he felt a cat come up on his other side, looking to see that Lionheart had approached him. “Do you remember when you first came here?” The golden tabby asked him softly, only loud enough for him and Peppermask to hear.

He blinked, and suddenly it felt as though he was transported back to that early newleaf day. The crowd had hissed and jeered at him then, with Dustleap being the loudest of all. “Do you back down from a challenge?” He wasn’t sure if it was the memory speaking, or Lionheart beside him now.

“Everyone.” Fireheart stepped forward to stand where Bluestar had been, turning to face the angry crowd. They quieted instinctually as he stood there. He felt small and weak under their eyes, like he was once again a scrawny kittypet asking for their acceptance. He glanced at Lionheart, who seemed to be almost smiling as he watched. Had he been smiling that day as well?

He took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves jittering in the pit of his stomach. “I know the warrior code just as well as each of you. I know I’m not the deputy that any of you wanted, or even that Starclan wanted.” He glanced down at his paws, his mouth suddenly feeling as though he had just licked the dirt beneath them. “I didn’t ask Bluestar for this, either. There are- Thunderclan deserves a much better deputy than me.”

He raised his gaze to look out at the crowd, several brimming with hostility as they glared at him. He tried not to let them get to him as he took another deep breath. “But fighting about what Starclan would want and what Bluestar should do is pointless. This fighting - this is what Tigerclaw wants us to do. He wants us to turn against each other, to turn our backs on the code just like he did. If he can’t lead this Clan, then he’ll do his best to tear it down.” He met each gaze in the crowd as he spoke. “Are we going to let him do that?”

Several heartbeats passed in silence, and he worried that for some, the answer might very well be yes. Then Cinderspark stepped forward, her long tail lashing as she raised her head high. “Fireheart’s right. We’re not gonna back down just because that foxheart thinks he’s better than us. We’re Thunderclan, the best Clan in the forest, and Tigerclaw can eat our dirt!” She yowled, loud enough that Starclan above could hear her words.

“Fireheart is a good cat.” He blinked in surprise as Dappleshine stepped forward next, her green eyes soft as she looked upon him. “He’s the one that saved Bluestar from Tigerclaw, after all. He knew more than many of us ever did, walking alongside that-” She paused, her lip curling as she considered many choice words for the exiled deputy, “adder-tongue for many moons. He may be young, but we should trust in his judgement, at least for now.”

“We’ve always trusted Bluestar before. That shouldn’t change now.” Rosetail pointed out from near the back. “We don’t know her reasoning for picking him as deputy. Perhaps she was waiting for Starclan to show her a sign, and they did. It’s not up to us to decide what Starclan’s will is or isn’t.”

Several elders grumbled beside her, but they didn’t seem interested in voicing their complaints. “Thank you. All of you.” He did his best to bow to them without pulling apart his bandages. “I - I will do my best to be worthy of your trust.”

“Now that that’s settled, deputy.” He blinked as he realized Whitestorm had come up beside him while the others had been speaking. “What would you like me to do now?”

He felt himself freezing up in fear at the thought of actually leading these cats. He had only been a warrior for two seasons! He tried to stay on his paws as he thought of what a deputy should do. “Dawn patrols.” He said slowly to himself. “Tigerclaw and his rogues escaped across the Shadowclan border, so we’ll want to guard that one well. Lionheart - you’ll be in charge of that patrol, along with-” He glanced out among the crowd, trying to find warriors he knew would fight Tigerclaw with all their fury. “Tinyfrost, Cinderspark, and Dappleshine.”

Lionheart nodded readily, sweeping his large golden tail towards the other three. “We’ll start along the Twolegplace border, then, since that’s where he was last scented.” The great warrior replied steadily. “Come then, all of you. Dawn isn’t that far away, and we’ll want to get some rest before going out.”

He watched the warriors depart, taking a deep breath and trying to steady himself. He could do this. “That leaves the Riverclan border. Mousefur, why don’t you take Cherrypaw, along with Willowbranch and Mistspring?”

The dusky brown molly stared at him as though he’d asked her to grow wings. “Tigerclaw didn’t want us taking apprentices along the Riverclan border with their recent aggression.” She pointed out to him.

“That was because they’d just been apprenticed and had no battle training. It’s been a moon now - surely they’ve had enough practice to handle themselves in a small skirmish?” He asked in response, even as panic welled up within him. In truth, he’d forgotten about it. He hadn’t heard of anything from Riverclan during the last Gathering, aside from their typical posturing over land rights. “Besides, you should try to avoid a fight, anyways. Yellowfang’s herbs are stretched thin as it is. Not that you should let them get away with hunting on our land if it comes to that, but-”

“I understand.” He was grateful for her interruption as she laid her tail on Cherrypaw beside her. “Besides, it will do her good to see the other border. I’ve heard enough complaining about the Thunderpath and Monsters for a lifetime!”

There were a few chuckles as she nudged her apprentice off, the other two warriors following her. “Peppermask, I hope you don’t mind being on hunting duty again. Take Longtail and Cedarpaw with you; try to stay somewhere close to camp, just in case.” He glanced at Whitestorm, considering the tom, but he had been one of the first defenders during the rogue attack. He could see that while the white warrior had not been wounded as badly as him, there were still several long patches of cobweb that hid a surely painful wound beneath. “Whitestorm and I will guard the camp.” He finished with a nod. That would at least get them through to sunhigh, he hoped.

“What about us?” He blinked and turned his head to see Sandstorm limp forward, Dustleap and their apprentices behind her. “Surely you haven’t forgotten us?” She added with narrowed eyes.

The thought of Tigerclaw’s children briefly sent a bolt of panic striking at his heart, but he did his best to conceal it. “You both have an apprentice, don’t you? Surely you can take them to the training hollow and figure something out.” He snapped back at her, refraining from lashing his tail as he spoke. He didn’t need to get into a fight with her, not now.

She shrank back as though he’d attacked her. “Er… right. Yeah, we can do that.” He stared at her in shock as she turned away, her tail low. He glanced at Whitestorm beside him, who was only looking at his former apprentice in worry. “We’ll see you at sunhigh, then.”

He watched them begin to walk away, guilt suddenly filling his mind. He wasn’t sure what he’d said to provoke such a reaction, but as he thought about it, he wondered if perhaps his face had shown the anger he’d tried to hide. After all, Tinyfrost had always said he showed his emotions too easily. “Er, Sandstorm, Dustleap, wait!” He called, the two tabbies turning to meet his gaze. “Can you take Thornpaw as well? He was Tigerclaw’s apprentice, and until Bluestar can assign him a new mentor, perhaps he’d do best training with his siblings.”

The cream molly studied him warily, as though suspecting some sort of trick from the change in attitude. At last, she dipped her head. “Of course we can.” She replied flatly, but he could see her head lift a little higher as she turned back to her den.

Now that the camp was devoid of warriors, everyone departing back to their dens, he heaved a sigh of relief. “You did well.” He looked up to Whitestorm, still standing next to him. “The Clan is skittish, like a frightened rabbit staring into a coyote’s gaze. They will find it difficult to trust, after everything that has happened. Do not take it to heart; it would be the same for any cat in your position, Starclan-appointed or not.” 

“Thank you, Whitestorm.” From all the warriors in camp, it meant the most to hear it from him. “I feel like they can all see that I have no idea what I’m doing. Quickflash and Tigerclaw took to it so easily, and-”

“They also had many moons of experience raising kits and training apprentices that you don’t.” The mighty warrior pointed out evenly, his golden eyes seeming almost amused as he looked down on the new deputy. “Though I am sure the Clan will silently measure you to him, do not feel you have to follow Tigerclaw’s paws. After all,” He muttered darkly, casting a glance towards the tunnel entrance, “that is how we got into this mess in the first place.”

Fireheart tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?” He asked curiously. Whitestorm, having been apprenticed alongside Tigerclaw, was perhaps the only remaining cat that knew him best. Had he reason to suspect the exiled deputy’s motive?

His heart sank as Whitestorm shook his head. “Nevermind that. I hope you don’t mind if I continue to guard the nursery? My aunt…” The great warrior looked away with a sigh. “You saw how she is.”

“She will recover. If not thanks to Starclan, then thanks to Yellowfang.” Fireheart replied gently, doing his best to comfort the older warrior. For a moment, Whitestorm seemed weak and vulnerable, rather than the mighty and wise warrior he had always known. “But of course you can guard her, at least until your wounds heal. If you can, ask Frostfur and Goldenflower to rotate with you. If you trust them, of course.”

Whitestorm nodded once at his last words. “Frostfur may be vicious at times, but she has a good heart. I’m told you’ve seen that yourself.” Fireheart glanced up at the larger tom, trying to read what he meant, but he’d already looked away towards the nursery. “As for Goldenflower, she wouldn’t hurt a flea - unless it was threatening the nursery, that is. I don’t envy Tigerclaw if he tries to find that out.” He glanced at the leader’s den behind him. “If it’s alright, I’ll have Speckleflight and Snowkit do their best to clean that out when dawn comes, so that Bluestar can return to it.”

He winced slightly as he realized the bloody trails out of it were still there, a painfully visible reminder of the treachery that had transpired earlier that day. “Of course. When Cherrypaw returns from patrol, have her help, too.” 

“I will.” With that, Whitestorm departed, gently padding across camp and nosing into the nursery to check on Bluestar. Upon making sure that the leader was resting, he took a seat in front of the entrance, eyes flicking around camp for any sign of movement.

Fireheart was just about to take a seat near the elders’ den when he saw another cat approach out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see it was Peppermask, having remained while every other cat had left. “If it’s alright, I’d like to join you on guard duty tonight.” She mewed softly to him, her green gaze indecipherable.

He hesitated to agree. “Shouldn’t you be resting for your hunting patrol?” Fireheart asked gently in return. He knew she wasn’t challenging his authority; she was the only one he would expect to support him, given everything that had happened. Still, it did feel strange that she wasn’t taking the opportunity to sleep before the patrol.

“I’m not tired.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked away from him briefly, before taking a seat next to him. “Besides, you’re injured. If Tigerclaw comes back tonight, you won’t exactly be able to take him on.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He glanced up at the sky, imagining for a brief moment the stars above. “Fine, then. We can sit guard together - at least until it’s time for your patrol.”

“That’s all I ask.” She purred, settling in next to him. He had to admit he didn’t mind the extra warmth in the chilly leafbare night - and, in any case, it would help to quell his anxieties to have an extra cat beside him tonight. Fireheart turned his gaze out onto the shadows, fur prickling as he remembered Tigerclaw’s dire warning. 

His gaze drifted back to the camp entrance as Sandstorm left with the two apprentices in tow. Tigerclaw and Bluestar had gone into her den, leaving the camp with only the elders and Brokentail’s entourage. Even Snowkit was out, fetching moss for the elders’ nests. The clearing felt strangely devoid of life as he looked upon it; he shifted uncomfortably, unnerved by the stillness and silence. 

As the moments passed by in quiet contemplation, his fur began to prickle more and more until it felt as though ants were crawling up and down his pelt. He tensed his muscles, trying to will it away, but the jitters only grew stronger until he was forced to stand and try to shake them out. He couldn’t sit here until the patrols finally came back, he quickly realized. Between the boredom and the silence, he would surely drive himself mad.

Perhaps a few laps around camp would do him good, he thought to himself, stretching out his muscles and beginning to pad along the clearing perimeter. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t do his job walking around, after all. If anything, he was guarding the camp even better, making sure to check all spots for any signs of trouble!

“Fireheart?” He blinked out of his thoughts at the sound of his name, turning to see he’d just passed by where Rosetail and Halftail were snoozing together. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, I’m just trying to beat the chill. Figured I’d try to warm myself up by taking a walk around camp. I hope my pacing didn’t disturb you?”

The tortoiseshell elder shrugged, her bony shoulders exaggerating the movement. “It doesn’t bother me. Just try to keep it down, won’t you? The other elders won’t appreciate it if their sunhigh slumber is disturbed.” She flicked her red-striped tail towards where the other elders were sprawled out in various patches of dappled sunlight.

“Of course.” He purred with a respectful dip of his head, before quietly continuing on. He flicked his tail in a greeting to Whitestorm and Yellowfang as he passed them, though neither stopped him to talk as they watched Thunderclan’s sole prisoner. He approached the nursery again, feeling energized as blood rushed through his veins. It seemed a small walk was just what he needed after all, given he was to be cooped up in camp until close to sunset.

He began a second languid lap around the clearing, focusing on keeping his pawsteps soundless. He paused briefly by the leader’s den, wondering what Tigerclaw and Bluestar were talking about, but he could only hear dull murmuring beyond the mossy curtain and quickly continued on before either could notice his shadow. He dipped his head to Snowkit as he passed by with a large ball of moss, watching the young tom disappear into the elders’ den. He was tempted to help with making the elders’ nests, but he knew that if Tigerclaw caught him doing anything but guard duty that he would get an angry reprimand he certainly didn’t need.

He had just reached the stump by the apprentices’ den when Sandstorm burst into camp, her sides heaving. “Thunderclan!” She wheezed out as all eyes turned towards her. “We… we’re…”

Fireheart stared at her in confusion. “Sandstorm?” He prompted as the tawny molly fought to catch her breath. “What’s going on? Has something happened to Brightpaw and Thornpaw?” He glanced over his shoulder at Yellowfang, wondering if perhaps the healer was needed to rectify a training accident.

The deputy’s daughter shook her head stubbornly. “Attack… They…” She panted, clearly not used to having run as fast as she had. Fireheart stepped towards her delicately. Normally, she might claw his ears off for daring to approach; now, however, she seemed too preoccupied with whatever message she was trying to get out.

As he did, the bramble tunnel rustled behind her, one dark-colored many-toed paw stepping into view - then another. “Look out!” Fireheart yowled, sprinting past her to slam into Spiderfoot as he slid into view. The former Shadowclan deputy twisted out of the way, more rogues pouring in behind him. A dark gray tom rushed at Fireheart, driving him back from the entrance before he could stop them.

The Thunderclan camp was alive with howls of anger and the flash of claws as what few cats remained dove into battle. 

Fireheart sprang at the dark gray tom that had tried to attack him, his claws raking down his side and tearing away thick clumps of fur. The rogue snarled and leaped back at him, slamming him into the ground, but Fireheart was ready; with one vicious kick, he sent his back claws into the tom’s belly as hard as he could, sending the invader flying. 

He rolled to his feet, not giving the former Shadowclanner a chance to recover before he was beset by a flurry of fast claw-strikes. In moments, the rogue had tucked his tail and was racing back out of the camp entrance.

He turned to briefly survey the camp. Everything was in chaos. He spotted briefly Goldenflower and Frostfur near the nursery, fighting in furious tandem to attack Spiderfoot; Patchpelt was stationed in front of the elders’ den, lashing out with surprising speed at a brown and white patched molly and brown tom with a shredded tail; he could see Sandstorm riding the back of a scarred brown tom he recognized as Clawface, her claws digging into his neck as she bit at whatever her fangs could get a hold of.

As he surveyed camp, looking for another cat to drive away, he froze as he realized he couldn’t see the silver shine of Bluestar’s pelt amongst the fighters. As he searched fearfully for Thunderclan’s leader, his heart dropped as he realized he couldn’t see the bulky form of Tigerclaw among the throng either. 

His mind suddenly flashed back to the day he had seen Tigerclaw sitting next to Brokentail, the day after Graystripe had attacked him. He’d thought then that it was a father and son sharing tongues, but now he knew that not to be true. Then he recalled how he had scented a strange group of cats mixed in with Tigerclaw’s scent when he had gone to visit his sister shortly before. 

Of course camp had been so empty - Tigerclaw had planned this! He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, even as he leaped towards the leader’s den. The lichen hung eerily still over the stone mouth, even as the battle raged around them. He didn’t hesitate, shoving his way in before any cat could stop him.

Then he froze.

Tigerclaw stood hunched over the still body of Bluestar, blood dripping down his maw as he looked to see who had dared interrupt him. At the sight of the ginger tom standing there, his lips curled into a wicked grin, showing teeth stained with the blood of his leader. “You’re too late, kittypet!” He crowed, turning and rising to his full height as he stared down Fireheart with glittering amber eyes. “Even now, Bluestar’s lives slip away from her, tragically taken by one of Brokentail’s rogues as they sought to free him from Thunderclan’s grasp. No cat will suspect the truth.”

“Traitor!” Fireheart howled, launching himself at the tabby with a vengeful fury.

The deputy dodged out of the way with a mocking laugh. “You’re a fool if you think you can defeat me with those silly battle tricks that your pathetic little mentor taught you. I’d only planned to send you two back where you belonged, but if you insist on fighting me…” His claws unsheathed, glinting in the lowlight. “I’ll happily oblige.”

He easily ducked out of the way as Tigerclaw swung, his claws raking the air over Fireheart’s ears. He recalled what Tinyfrost had told him nearly a moon ago, after Bluestar had rejected the truth - He will underestimate an opponent that’s smaller than him. Use his arrogance against him. The words rang again and again in his ears as he stood, his blood blazing inside him. He might have been too late to save Bluestar, but he would not let Tigerclaw become leader. Not without a fight.

He leaped past the murderer towards the entrance. “Fleeing, kittypet?” Tigerclaw taunted as he pivoted around on one paw, using his momentum to launch himself onto the deputy’s back and dig his claws in. Tigerclaw howled beneath him as Fireheart dug in, bucking and clawing as he tried to get the smaller tom off of him.

He strained to find skin under the thick tabby fur, growling to himself as he couldn’t find purchase. In desperation, he snapped out at Tigerclaw’s neck, hoping to find the weak spot in his spine, but he whipped his head around at the last moment. Instead, Fireheart’s fangs sunk into one dark ear, and he pulled viciously to tear away a chunk of flesh.

Tigerclaw yowled in pain beneath him, and with one last kick finally flung the ginger tom off, sending him into one wall of the den. He immediately rolled to the side as he landed, just barely missing two heavy paws slamming into where he had been. He got to his feet, watching as a trickle of blood sped down the deputy’s ear. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that, kittypet.” Tigerclaw snarled as he spun to face the young warrior. “I’ll flay you alive!”

He lunged once more at Fireheart, but the ginger tom nimbly skipped out of the way. His heart was racing from fear, but he had never felt more alive. If he died now, he died knowing he had done what he could to save his Clan.

As they stared each other down, he realized that the stone floor beneath his paws was thick with blood. Bluestar’s blood, he despaired, glancing to the side to see the body still lying there. Tigerclaw took that moment to rush at him, but he quickly side-stepped away onto a dry patch of ground.

The tabby tom hadn’t been expecting it, and swerved to course correct; this time, however, it was him standing in Bluestar’s blood, and as he tried to change direction his paws slipped out from beneath him, causing him to land with a heavy thud in front of Fireheart. The ginger warrior was diving at the deputy before he could recover; his claws slicing away the thick fur above the shoulder blade, while his fangs dug into the soft flesh beneath it. Blood immediately spurted onto his tongue, and the caterwaul of the tom under him revealed that he’d found a soft spot.

Fireheart stiffened in shock as he felt Tigerclaw’s paws wrap around his sides. In any other cat, such a bite would surely stun them, but cats across all Clans knew of Tigerclaw’s legendary stone will when it came to fighting. He would not stop until one of them was dead.

He let go of Tigerclaw’s neck and wrenched himself to the side, hoping to free himself from the tabby tom’s grasp. Instead, they went flipping across the stone den as they lashed out at each other with claws and fangs. Fireheart felt wounds being torn into his side, but he didn’t dare to stop - couldn’t dare to stop. 

Just as he thought that Tigerclaw might get the upper paw, a black blur slammed into them, sending the two fighters tumbling in separate directions across the floor. It took Fireheart several moments to get to his feet, but when he did, he could see Tinyfrost had pinned Tigerclaw by his scruff and front paws.

“Tiny- Tinyfrost?” He stuttered out, his muscles burning even as he crossed the den to help pin the traitor’s back legs, which were still clawing desperately as he tried to get the little tom to let go. “How-?”

“Sandstorm sent Thornpaw to come get us. Yowled about camp being in danger before he ran off.” The senior warrior spat down at his old enemy beneath him through the thick scruff, his ice blue eyes burning with fury. “I think he went off to the Great Sycamore to get Mousefur’s hunting patrol. Brightpaw is probably off finding Lionheart’s and Darkstripe’s patrols.”

He let out a sigh of relief at that. Now he understood why he hadn’t seen either of the apprentices behind Sandstorm; she’d clearly scented the rogues coming and sent them to get help. “Tinyfrost, he… Bluestar…” He glanced back at Bluestar’s body that was still laying in her blood-soaked nest.

“I saw.” Tinyfrost’s eyes squeezed shut in grief for his dead mentor for a brief moment before they opened again. “No use dwelling on it. Help me drag him out of here.”

The two shepherded their new prisoner out into the clearing. Tinyfrost had been right: the other patrols had returned, along with Brightpaw. It seemed as though with their combined might, they had driven out the rest of the rogues while Fireheart had been fighting with Tigerclaw. Now the assembled fighters were assessing their wounds and the damage that had been done. As the three cats exited the leader’s den in tandem, all eyes turned to them.

“Tigerclaw! Why- What are you two doing?” Dustleap jumped to his paws, fur bristling furiously. “That’s your deputy you’re-”

“He’s a traitor!” Fireheart howled, shoving Tigerclaw to the ground before him. The deputy’s amber eyes burned with rage as he sprawled before the two former kittypets.

There were shocked yowls of disbelief at his words. “Tigerclaw has always been a loyal warrior, and a great deputy!” Patchpelt called from where he was sitting by the elders’ den, where all the other elders were slowly clambering out. “How could he be a traitor?”

“Tigerclaw has never been a loyal warrior!” Fireheart shot back, his eyes searching the crowd for Peppermask. At last he spotted her, near the nursery - as their twin green gazes met, she slowly nodded. It was time, at last, to reveal the truth. “Tell me, who here remembers Redtail?”

There was discontent as he spoke the name of the fallen deputy. “So what?” Darkstripe growled from near the front of the crowd. “Redtail may not have been his mate before he died, but he still got vengeance for his death at the claws of those-”

“And who told you that?” The ginger tom thrust his muzzle towards the black-striped tom. “Did not one of you think it was strange that Oakheart, known for his love of battle and for his great honor, would resort to such a dirty trick? Did you not think that it was strange that Ravenspirit returned to camp with a wound so terrible, he fainted because of it, even though he had supposedly not fought at all?”

The crowd murmured uneasily to each other as they pondered his questions. “Speak plainly, Fireheart.” It was Lionheart who spoke up now, his green eyes troubled as they looked down on his longtime rival.

“Tigerclaw wasn’t the one to kill Oakheart that day.” Fireheart announced to a series of shocked gasps. “But he did indeed kill that morning at Sunningrocks. The cat he killed was not his enemy - but his own deputy, Redtail!”

Yowls of shock and fury met his words, each cat speaking over another as they tried to question him. Fireheart stared at them, uneasy at the sea of faces of cats twisted into states of anger, fear, and grief. He had kept this hidden from them for so long. Would they blame him for not telling them sooner?

“SILENCE!” Fireheart startled slightly at Tinyfrost’s caterwaul beside him. He had never heard the little tom shout so loudly before, even when he was mad at his apprentice. He supposed he understood why his old mentor was so quiet otherwise - he was certain that even cats near Fourtrees must have heard the yowl. “He can’t answer anything when you’re all talking over each other.” Tinyfrost mewed, once again quiet as the crowd followed his command. “If you want answers, try asking one at a time.”

His heart thudded against his ribs as he looked out at the gathered warriors. At last, Halftail stood up, his golden eyes full of suspicion. “How do you know all this? You weren’t there.” The tabby elder pointed out before sitting back down.

He dipped his head. “I was not. But I was told all of this by a cat that was there. Ravenspirit saw his father murder his own deputy.” He glanced up towards the sky briefly, as though recalling the fallen tom. “It was his intention to tell us the truth before he fainted. When he came to, Tigerclaw threatened to kill him if he said a word against his father.” The tabby on the ground before him squinted angrily at him. They both knew he was lying, at least partially, but it was easier than explaining everything in detail. “But Ravenspirit’s silence wasn’t enough. That’s why he insinuated his own son was a Shadowclan spy to anyone who would listen - so none would believe him even if he did dare to speak up and tell the truth.”

“Stone-heart!” He blinked as Dappleshine stood, her green eyes filled with furious fire as she glared at the deputy whose son she had raised. “It’s because of you that Ravenspirit is dead!”

“How do you know he wasn’t lying?” Darkstripe yowled again, his pale yellow eyes narrow as he glared at Fireheart. Fireheart glared back evenly.

“I spoke with Riverclan.” He stated flatly, as he looked out on the crowd, meeting the gaze of each Thunderclan cat. “I asked myself, if Tigerclaw truly killed Redtail, then who killed Oakheart? Was it Redtail himself?”

“Redtail would never kill another cat!” Longtail spat as he rose to his paws, fur bristling angrily. “I was his apprentice, I should know!”

“I didn’t say he did.” Fireheart pointed out readily as he gazed back at the tabby warrior. “I asked Riverclan if they knew who had killed Oakheart. I was surprised to hear that it was not a cat that killed him, but a rockfall, caused by all of the rain the night before. Redtail and Tigerclaw were there when he died, but neither was responsible for his death.” He tore his eyes away from Longtail to look out at the rest of the crowd. “You can ask any Riverclan cat, and they’ll all tell you the same thing; even Mudwish and Mosspatch, their healers, who are above Clan disputes.”

Cats in the crowd began to uneasily eye their neighbors and whisper to each other. Could what Fireheart was saying really be true? “He thought that if he killed Redtail and pretended to have avenged him, he would be made deputy.” Fireheart explained, knowing that they were wondering the traitor’s motive, just as he had been. “But Quickflash was made deputy instead.”

“And I suppose you’re going to say he killed Quickflash too.” Darkstripe scoffed, but he could see fear in the black tabby’s eyes - he knew the truth, just as Fireheart did. His lip curled into a sneer at the realization.

“He did. He summoned Quickflash to the side of the Thunderpath, where the verge is thinnest, and pushed him out in the path of an incoming Monster. He had no chance to react before it was too late.” Fireheart looked to the back, where Peppermask was leaning against her mother. His heart ached to bring it up, but it had to be done. “This time, he was made deputy. Not through Starclan’s will, but through his own bloodied paws.”

There were hisses and jeers at his words. “Why bring all this up now, when we have Brokentail and his rogues to deal with?” Mousefur called from where she was sitting by her apprentice. “Surely this is a matter for Bluestar to decide.”

“Because he summoned Brokentail’s rogues here today!” Fireheart yowled, his voice loud enough to be heard by Starclan above. “He made sure every warrior and apprentice was out of camp except for Whitestorm and myself. I don’t know what he promised them for helping him - a place in the Clan, maybe, or hunting rights on our territory. Maybe it was just the chance to get their leader back.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “It doesn’t matter. He made sure the camp was as unguarded as possible.”

A long, tense moment of silence stretched out between him and the crowd. “Why?” Mistspring questioned at last.

His shoulders sagged in defeat as he realized that even despite all this, Tigerclaw had achieved what he had sought to do. “Because being deputy was never going to be enough for him. He wanted to control the Clan, with no cat able to temper his power.” He looked down at his paws, trying to summon up the courage to tell the Clan a truth that he knew would break them. “While the rogues fought everyone left in camp, he slipped into Bluestar’s den and did what he had to do to make sure he became leader.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “He killed Bluestar.”

Stunned silence met his words. “That’s not possible.” He opened his eyes and looked out on the faces of shocked and fearful cats. “Bluestar is - he couldn’t kill her! He wouldn’t kill her!” It was Dustleap speaking, his golden eyes round and horrified.

“He did!” Fireheart howled, tears finally flowing down his face as his grief overcame him. “I realized what he had done, but it was too late. By the time I got inside, he had already killed her. I fought him, but…” He dropped his head in shame. “I couldn’t stop him. I was too late. I’m so sorry.”

It felt as though the weight of the sky itself was pressing down on him, suffocating him, drowning him in his own tears. He didn’t dare look up at the crowd. Despite all his knowledge, despite everything he’d tried to do, he had still failed them. Even if they cast out Tigerclaw, they were still leaderless.

“And you, Tigerclaw?” He recognized Lionheart’s steady voice speak up now, and pictured the giant golden tabby looking down on the other great warrior with disdain. “Have you anything to say in your defense?”

He heard something rustling, and opened his eyes to see Tigerclaw finally sitting up. “Oh, I have something to say, alright.” The traitor growled bitterly, his amber eyes burning as he glared at Fireheart. “That’s a tall tale you’ve told there, Fireheart. It’s a shame not a word of it was true.”

Gasps of shock met his words. “So you deny it?” Tinyfrost growled, his claws unsheathing as he glared at his enemy, the cat he had so longed to deliver justice and vengeance to.

“Fireheart himself admits that his tale comes from the mouth of my dead son, one who everyone knows always had an overactive imagination.” Tigerclaw shook his head wearily. “And even more, his ‘evidence’ that I somehow killed Redtail hinges on Riverclan, who every cat knows would lie to Starclan themselves if they thought it would make them look good!”

Fireheart bristled furiously. “You-!”

“I am ashamed I could not save Redtail before it was too late. That is my guilt to bear.” The deputy’s head hung and he gave a dramatic sigh. “But his death wasn’t my fault - neither was Quickflash’s. Tell me, Fireheart, did you see me shove my predecessor under a Monster’s paws? Or perhaps you’ll say that Ravenspirit witnessed it, or that we should go ask the very Monster that killed him!”

He didn’t give the young warrior a chance to interrupt. “I’ll tell you all what really happened. It’s true that I only left two warriors to guard camp - something that any cat can tell you happens regularly, now that we are not at war with any other Clan.” Tigerclaw shook his head sadly as he looked back up to the crowd. “I was told that Brokentail’s rogues had been scattered, and no cat has reported them on the border in moons. How was I supposed to know they would attack today?”

Fireheart’s heart dropped as he saw cats quietly discussing with each other. Surely they didn’t believe him? “And what about Bluestar’s body? The blood that I found dripping from your maw? You expect them to believe that was a figment of my imagination, too?” He interjected quickly, glaring back at the deputy as his own claws began to unsheathe.

“It’s true that Bluestar is dead. But as you would know if you had taken even a moment to listen to me instead of attacking, I was trying to save her.” Up close, he could see the treacherous deputy’s eyes glittering with thinly veiled contempt as he gazed down on the young warrior. “I did have her blood on my paws, but I was trying to stop the bleeding so a healer could arrive.”

“I said-”

“Tell me, Thunderclan!” Tigerclaw didn’t give him a chance to speak, standing and shouting to the crowd with his booming voice. “Who would you believe? A kittypet that openly admits to believing an enemy Clan over his own? Or your own loyal deputy, who has served this Clan faithfully for many seasons?”

Fireheart shook with rage as he stared up at the murderous tabby. How could this traitor try and claim that this was somehow his fault? Trying to twist his own words against him, if not openly lying about what had happened just moments before?

In the corner of his eye he could see the crowd shift, and he tore his attention away briefly to see the entire Clan looking between him and Tigerclaw. He could see Peppermask also looking around at the Clan, and Frostfur was scowling furiously at the deputy as her white fur hung off her in clumps. The rest of the sea of faces looked doubtful, and he realized with horror that they didn’t believe him.

His words stuck in his throat as he tried to speak, to say something that would convince them. He had known that his tale was difficult to accept, that Tigerclaw was held in such high regard that it would take truly momentous proof to out him as a murderer and codebreaker. But didn’t they understand? Bluestar was dead! If they let Tigerclaw get away with killing her, if he became leader of Thunderclan, then -

“I don’t know, Tigerclaw.” He blinked as he heard a familiar mew behind him. “Who should we believe?”

He turned around, his blood roaring in his ears. That voice - it couldn’t be-

Redtail x Tigerclaw - A long time ago, at least a couple of years, I read a Tumblr post that said something like 'The warriors series is just the result of Redtail and Tigerclaw breaking up' and that stuck with me. Unfortunately, I don't remember who posted it, though I'll gladly credit if anyone finds it. That post ended up being the foundation for my entire rewrite - 'Embrace of the Locked Talons' refers specifically to Redtail and Tigerclaw! I've learned since that there are a few rewrites that use this premise, so it's not necessarily an uncommon one, but there you go.

As for their kits! I chose Sandstorm to be one because, as I said earlier, she was always a Redtail kit to me (though she isn't any longer - sadge). Dustleap was the other because, honestly, I always thought they were siblings with how close they generally were and how they were always referred to as older than the rest. They also have similar names (Sand and Dust). Dustleap is also, if not a Tiger-ally, then Tiger-adjacent, and his similar description to Tigerclaw always made me think they were related. Them being Redtail and Tigerclaw kids made perfect sense to me!

Tigerclaw x Nightwish - I wanted Ravenpaw to still be Dustleap's brother, but it didn't really fit to shove him in with them to be a third of their litter (Sand, Dust, and... Raven?). Plus, even though he's obviously traumatized from watching Redtail die, I think that if any other cat had been deputy and died in front of him he'd still have the same reaction - so it didn't make sense to make him a Redtail kit. I ended up conceptualizing him as a half-brother to Dustleap to explain how they're related but so distant from each other compared to Dustleap and Sandstorm - they're not littermates, and he's only further evidence their parents aren't getting back together.

Still, if he's a Tigerclaw kit, I needed him to have a second parent - Tigerclaw's not the type to be a single parent, really. He'd rather have a mate to throw in his ex's face. Going through the cats of the Clan at that point, I arrived at Nightwish looking similar to him and concluded she'd be a logical mother. Her dying was to explain why there's no one else really able to stand up to Tigerclaw over his son's treatment. Dappleshine does her best, since she ended up raising him, but she doesn't really have a claim to stand up to Tigerclaw - short of if he got physically abusive, at which point she would have absolutely stood up to him, as would most of the other warriors.

Dappleshine x Speckleflight - I'm going to be honest, I don't remember the reason for putting these two together. I had envisioned both as very matronly characters, older nursery queens who looked out for the younger members of the Clan and offered advice to new queens. I suppose at one point I was trying to decide on mates for them and wondered, but what if they kissed? And the rest is history.

Whitestorm x Lionheart - When I first read the books, I always saw Whitestorm and Lionheart as a pair - two strong, wise men that were very close to each other. I'm not entirely sure how I got that off half a book, given Lionheart dies in Into the Wild, but that was always my headcanon. When I got the chance, I leaped to make my headcanon reality.

Frostfur x Goldenflower - This is another one where my brain just smacked two cats together and said they were tied together somehow for life. They're not siblings, obviously, but why can't they be girlfriends in a gay for gay with Whitestorm and Lionheart? I love picturing these two in a giant fluffy cuddle pile, surrounded by their numerous children <3

Willowbranch x Quickflash - I'd already tapped Graystripe to be Willowbranch's son, as per canon, but he needed a new father that wasn't Patchpelt. I went through my list of possible cats around her age that weren't related, and all I could come up with were Longtail, Quickflash, and Mousefur. (And Darkstripe, but Darkstripe being Graystripe's father just didn't compute in my head.) I wanted to leave Longtail and Mousefur available - I hadn't yet decided if they were siblings, mates, or something else - so that just left Quickflash.

I'd already tapped Quickflash for the deputy job, as someone no one would care about when he died. Obviously, with him being Graystripe's father, that last part changed, but I think that was for the better. Given the only bits of him we get in canon are 'Not terribly good with children' and 'Young', and that first part wouldn't apply if he had children, I ended up completely rewriting his character to suit my needs. I like how it turned out, in the end - He'll certainly be missed, but his death ended up complicating the plot in all the right ways.

I won't address the ones that remain from canon, like Graystripe x Silverstream, but in general I didn't mess with characters whose relationship was already important to the original plot - things like Yellowfang and Raggedstar, for example, or Speckleflight and Snowkit. There are certainly changes I made to make relationships important to the plot - things like Brokentail's son, Quickflash being Graystripe's father - and I obviously changed details that were important to later plots (like Thistleclaw being Snowstorm's mate) - but the original plot's original relationships remain intact.

Lastly, I'd like to comment on our aro reps! It's important to me to have characters that don't have mates, and that they're considered just as valuable and respected warriors as those that do have mates and kits. You might notice some omissions from this list that don't currently have mates, or may never get mates, and that's intentional! Not every mateless cat is aro rep, though you can certainly imagine them to be that if it pleases you.

Patchpelt - In my head, he's an old, grumpy war veteran that has never liked children, which ends up showing when he mentors Dewpaw. None of the mollies or toms in the Clan have ever interested him - certainly, he gets along fine with them, but he's never found any cat that interested him in becoming a mate. He's happy with where he is in the elders' den, chatting his days away with his old friends and being waited on by little upstarts.

Spottedleaf - She may be beautiful, if not young, but while Spottedleaf has drawn the gaze of many cats she's never been interested in taking a mate - which is part of why she became a healer. Spottedleaf doesn't need companionship when she has her beautiful self, after all.

Longtail - Longtail is a devoted warrior, and he believes in Tigerclaw, Bluestar, and Thunderclan with his whole heart. He may not like certain members (like Fireheart) but he respects their contributions to the Clan. He follows the code to the letter - knows it inside and out, better than any cat in all the Clans. With all that dedication, it doesn't seem as if he has time for a mate - though the same could have been said for his brother Quickflash, and he and Willowbranch ended up quite happily together. Regardless, even if Longtail can be a little grouchy, he's happy with his current lot in life, and he doesn't need a cat alongside him to change that.

Mistspring - We don't see much of Mistspring outside of her role in mentoring Cinderspark. Needless to say, even though both her sisters settled down with a mate fairly early, she was never interested in the nursery. She loves the Clan, and her friends within it, but she has no need to fill her life with a mate or kits when the world around her is so filled with wonder to explore.

Dewpaw - Dewpaw's never quite understood the desire other cats have to find a mate. Kits are a different story - being able to watch them grow and help nurture them fascinates her - but needing to have someone alongside you for every pawstep in life seems like a hassle. Luckily, her love of knowledge and herbs, as well as her aversion to fighting, lead her to a life as a healer. Now she helps the Clan grow and thrive, and she couldn't be happier.

Fireheart - Simply put, Fireheart doesn't understand love. At all. How could it possibly drive Graystripe to abandon the family he loves and ignore all rational sense that something, eventually, will lead to him getting caught? Why would it lead Redtail to ignore the danger Tigerclaw poses to Thunderclan until it was too late? He understands anger very well, and grief (even if he's never personally experienced it), but love? It just doesn't make any sense.

It still felt wrong to be sitting beneath the Highrock in place of a real deputy - a cat with experience that the Clan trusted. Though he did his best to ignore them, he could still see the looks that many of the warriors and elders gave him across camp - looks of disdain or pity, depending on their stance. Though none were openly hostile when he assigned them patrols or gave them orders, he knew they were all waiting for another cat to fill his paws.

Then there were some that didn’t look at him at all, he thought to himself with a frown as he watched Sandstorm slink her way across camp, carrying brambles to help reinforce the nursery. He’d expected the temperamental young warrior to be one of the ones that challenged him the most, but she barely even spoke around him, and never raised her head to look him in the eyes. Graystripe was the same way, speaking only in respectful one word answers, but as much as it pained the ginger tom to hear his former friend speak that way he had to admit that part of him reveled in finally seeing the other tom realizing his mistakes.

“Fireheart.” He turned his head to see Whitestorm approaching, giving a respectful nod to the young deputy as he did so.

“Whitestorm.” He purred in response, ever grateful to see the older tom. In the past few days, he had been a welcome support whenever the new deputy was feeling unsure of himself. “How can I help you?”

The snowy tom flicked his tail towards the apprentices’ den, where Brightpaw and Brackenpaw were sharing her thrush while Thornpaw sat off to the side. “I’m sure you recall that Tigerclaw was Thornpaw’s mentor. While Dustleap and Sandstorm have been sharing responsibility of him, they both have their own apprentices and their own struggles to deal with right now.” He sat down beside Fireheart with a gentle sigh. “Neither are equipped to give him the attention he needs. He needs a new mentor - and as deputy, it is your responsibility to find him one.”

“It is?” Fireheart’s heart dropped as it so often did these days, fear striking it whenever he was reminded of a new responsibility. “Er- Okay, I suppose. Do you think I should ask Goldenflower and Frostfur? They’re his mothers, after all, surely they know what’s best for him.”

He couldn’t read the senior warrior’s expression as he looked down at his deputy beside him. “They have elected to leave the decision to you.” Whitestorm told him  gently, sweeping his fluffy tail over his paws. “You could take him on yourself, you know. It would be… unconventional, perhaps, but it would be a way of ensuring your deputyship meets the warrior code.”

Fireheart considered it briefly. He had heard the whispers about camp, as much as he tried to ignore them, of how his being named deputy meant bad luck for Thunderclan. And while he wasn’t sure if Starclan disapproved or not, he had to admit that he felt as though he was floundering, as if he had been thrown into the river and would be swept under at any moment. He couldn’t deny that the thought of quashing those rumors was tempting.

“No.” He decided after a moment of thought. “You said Thornpaw needs attention and care, and I’m a new deputy who doesn’t know what he’s doing. I won’t be able to give him what he needs to thrive as a warrior.” He gazed across camp, taking in the warriors sitting in the sun and beginning to share tongues. “All the other mentors are young, and just got their first apprentice. They need an older mentor that can guide them, one that’s had an apprentice before. Plus, an experienced mentor will know how to attend to Thornpaw’s needs.”

Whitestorm closed his eyes and nodded along thoughtfully as the ginger deputy spoke. “It sounds like you already have a cat in mind, then.” He rumbled, opening one golden eye to look down on the tom beside him.

For a heartbeat, he considered Whitestorm beside him. The senior warrior had been mentor to Sandstorm, after all, who was likely a difficult apprentice at best. But then he discarded the thought - he needed Whitestorm here to guide him, and the older tom was already too concerned with Bluestar to take on an apprentice. Instead, as his gaze surveyed camp, it fell upon where Frostfur and Goldenflower were talking with Lionheart. “What about Lionheart? He’s already mentored Graystripe, and he recently went through the loss of his mentor as well. He would be a good fit to take care of Thornpaw.”

Whitestorm swiped his tongue around his jaws as he considered it. “Aside from Dappleshine and myself, he would be the most experienced mentor that’s still a warrior. And you’re right; he is one of the cats better suited for Thornpaw’s particular issues.” After a couple of heartbeats, Whitestorm dipped his head in approval. “Yes, I think Lionheart is a good fit. Still, as deputy, you should make sure he wants an apprentice. Surprise mentorships rarely go well.”

The white warrior’s whiskers twitched in amusement, and Fireheart briefly recalled how Bluestar had sprung him on Tinyfrost; though they’d eventually reached an understanding, the first moon had been impossibly difficult. “You’re right. Will you come with me?” He asked as he stood. The warrior beside him nodded in response, and together the two padded across camp to where Lionheart was.

“Lionheart?” He asked softly as the golden warrior touched noses with his mate in greeting. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

The mighty tom perked his ears curiously, green eyes shining as they looked down on the young deputy. “Of course, Fireheart. As long as you don’t mind my sister and her mate listening in as well?” He glanced at the two queens beside him, who were also watching Fireheart with interest.

He dipped his head in greeting to both of them. “Of course not. In fact, I’d like their approval too.” He looked back to Lionheart, trying to steady himself as his heart began to beat faster in his chest. “As you know, Thornpaw was mentored to Tigerclaw.” As he said the traitor’s name, he saw brief anger flash over Frostfur’s face, and recalled the queen’s hatred towards the exiled tabby. Had she approved of him mentoring her son? Perhaps she’d originally had another cat in mind, but Bluestar had overridden her. “He needs a new mentor, one who can help him navigate these difficult times. I’d like you to mentor him, if that’s alright with you.”

They sat in silence for a moment as the older tom regarded him, and for a brief moment he feared that Lionheart would deny him. At last, the mighty golden tabby sat back and released a ferocious yawn. “I don’t know, Fireheart. I’m getting awfully slow in my old age. I don’t know if I can take on such a young charge…”

Fireheart bristled at the languid remarks. “When I was an apprentice, you told me you were only fourteen seasons old! It hasn’t been that long since then - you’re, what, seventeen seasons? Eighteen?” He huffed, trying not to feel too small as he glared up into the other tom’s green eyes. “Surely you’re not retiring to the elders’ den just yet!”

He caught the faintest hints of a smile at the edges of the golden tabby’s maw, and realized that Lionheart had been playing coy. “Well, I suppose when you put it that way… Alright, I’ll take on Thornpaw.” He stretched out one giant golden paw, then the other. “Besides, it’ll be good practice running around after a little youngster before our own arrive…”

“Lionheart! You promised not to tell!” Whitestorm gently shoved into his mate’s side with an angry huff, but Fireheart could see a cheesy grin creeping over the white tom’s face all the same.

“You’re having kits? Congratulations!” Fireheart purred as he watched the two lean into each other. There had been rumors for several seasons that the toms were thinking about having their first litter - it seemed those rumors were finally coming true. “I’m sure you’ll be great fathers.”

Whitestorm ducked his head - if he didn’t know the great warrior, he almost would think it was because of embarrassment. “Yes, Yellowfang just confirmed this morning Frostfur is carrying them. They’ll be due in about a moon’s time.”

He dipped his head to the white queen sitting there, who seemed mildly amused by the whole affair. “I’m glad to hear it. I have no doubt they’ll be great warriors one day, a true credit to Thunderclan.” He turned back to Lionheart as he rubbed his cheek against Whitestorm’s. “So then, shall I tell Bluestar the good news? About your mentorship, of course - I’m sure Whitestorm will want to tell her the other bit personally.”

The golden tom nodded as he pulled away from his mate. “You may. Now’s as good a time for a ceremony as any; the Clan could certainly use some cheering up.”

Fireheart nodded in agreement, even as he stepped away and padded back towards the Highrock. He passed Tinyfrost, who was guarding Bluestar’s den, with a polite nod before he pushed his way through the lichen curtain. He did his best to prepare himself, already knowing what he would find inside.

Bluestar was curled up in her nest, which had been entirely replaced in the aftermath of the camp invasion. The stone floor had been wiped down with snow, leaving no trace of what had happened except for the leader herself. “Bluestar?” He mewed as he approached. Her still, glassy eyes didn’t move to look at him; the only indication that she was alive was her slow, shallow breathing as her side rose and fell.

Gone was the regal leader that had terrified him when he first dared to venture into the forest; all that remained now was a frail body, as spectral and transient as the husk of a cicada. He hesitated as he stared down at her, struggling to find the words to speak. He wanted so badly to hold her accountable for not listening to him, for choosing him over any other cat in camp to be deputy. He wanted answers and an explanation, but he worried that even that pressure would be enough for her heart to stop entirely.

“Well, uh, Thornpaw’s mentor is - gone. He needs a new one.” Once again he was tempted to bring up how that was her fault - he was certain, now, that Tigerclaw hadn’t been Frostfur or Goldenflower’s pick. But he restrained himself, taking a seat by the leader’s nest. “And they’ll need a ceremony, which only you can do. So, uh-”

Her head suddenly shot up from where it had been resting on her paws as she turned to glare at him. “The Clan doesn’t really need me.” She spat, her voice laced with burning vitriol as her blue eyes glittered with hatred. “Oh, sure, they want to want to use me. They want someone they can boss around without question, that does every little thing that they ask, but they don’t care the slightest about me. If I don’t do what they want, then they’ll just kill me and replace me with someone that will.”

Horror seized Fireheart as he stared down at the leader in shock. How could she say such things about the Clan - whom she had always loved before, like a mother would her kits? He hadn’t realized how badly Tigerclaw’s attack had gotten to her. “That’s not true, Bluestar.” He mewed, taking a deep breath and trying his best not to seem as shaken as he was by the venom in her words. “The Clan is worried about you right now because they care for you. Tigerclaw was- he was delusional to think he could replace you. You’re the best leader Thunderclan could possibly have.”

She turned away from him with a huff of disbelief to stare at the wall. Fireheart didn’t know what to say - did she truly believe that no cat in the Clan cared about her now? “What about Whitestorm? Or Tinyfrost? Or- Or even me? Do you really think I fought Tigerclaw just for the fun of it?” She sat in silence, and panic suddenly overwhelmed him. What was he supposed to say? How could he convince her? “Bluestar, I-”

“So what?” He paused as the leader spoke, tossing the question at him without turning to look. “After everything I’ve done and given to Thunderclan, a total of three cats out of how many care about me? Am I supposed to feel honored by that?” She growled the question bitterly at him, tail lashing. “I’m not going to lift a whisker for these cowardly rats and their petty problems. They can figure things out on their own for a change.”

“They have been! For the past quarter-moon, no less!” Fireheart snapped, her words running over a sore spot in his patience. “I’ve never had an apprentice before, Bluestar, and I’ve only been a warrior for a season. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’ve still been doing everything I can to keep the Clan from breaking apart over Tigerclaw because you named me deputy! I’m asking you to do this one thing, Bluestar, to help me out, and then you can go back to moping in your den for a moon if you want. All you have to do is say a few sentences about Lionheart being Thornpaw’s new mentor. Is that really so much for me to ask, after everything I’ve done?”

Painful silence stretched between them as the moments passed, and Fireheart wondered if perhaps she wasn’t going to move at all. His heartbeat quickened as he imagined getting up in front of the Clan himself - would they accept it? He gently sighed in relief as she rose out of her nest. “Fine. Quickly, then.” She growled, stumbling across the den towards the entrance. He followed her, part of him wanting to assist her, but he knew from experience that no cat took kindly to being helped along without asking.

Tinyfrost turned to greet him as they exited, ears perking in surprise as he saw both the leader and deputy. He looked quizzically to Fireheart, standing as though prepared to stop her, but relaxed as Fireheart dipped his head in acknowledgement. Instead, they both watched as she began to clamber up the side of the Highrock. 

What had once been a single, graceful bound for the leader was now a struggle to the top; as they watched, one of her paws slipped, and both instinctually moved to catch her, but she managed to recover before she fell off. At last, she found her way to the top, clambering to the peak with the same slow, shambling demeanor that she had had since Tigerclaw’s betrayal.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting.” There was none of the usual vigor as she spoke the words; indeed, instead of echoing around camp, it seemed as though her voice barely reached the edges. Still, cats all around began to pad over to sit beneath their leader, and with a dip of his head Tinyfrost moved to join them. Only Fireheart was left beside the rock, where the deputy was supposed to sit. Where Tigerclaw had once sat, he thought with a shiver, even as he took his customary place.

Bluestar watched her Clan gather in silence, her face stripped of all emotion. It didn’t take long for them all to assemble, but still as the moments stretched by without their leader speaking the Clan began to grow restless. He could feel his heart drop as he watched her stand there; had she forgotten why she was up there in the first place?

Just as he was bunching up his muscles to leap onto the rock beside her, she flicked her tail decisively. “Thornpaw, step forward.” He relaxed as he watched the light golden tabby step forward, eyes questioning as he gazed up at his leader. “You need a new mentor. I have chosen Lionheart to teach you.”

The Clan was still uneasy as she spoke stiltedly, rushing the normal words of the ceremony; but this was an unusual ceremony, not one that would normally take place. “Lionheart. You were Redtail’s apprentice, and he… he taught you well. You did a good job teaching Graystripe, and I expect you to do the same for Thornpaw.” She turned and began to slip down the Highrock. “Meeting dismissed.”

The Clan grumbled uncomfortably as Lionheart stepped forward to touch noses with Thornpaw. He knew they had been expecting more from her - an explanation, or perhaps an apology, maybe even a new deputy. He flinched as she fell off the rock and into his side. For a moment, he expected her to lash out at him, but instead she turned away and padded back into her den. Into her nest, he imagined, to rest more.

“What’s going on, Fireheart?” He blinked back as he heard a voice call his name, and he turned to see Patchpelt standing there, tail bristling angrily. “The first time we see Bluestar in a quarter–moon, and it’s for some apprentice ceremony? Bring her back out here! The Clan needs answers!”

“Hush! Didn’t you see the state she was in?” Rosetail growled beside him, locking eyes with the irritable elder. “She needs rest right now, not badgering from the Clan!”

“What she needs is to do is lead us! I’m sure lots of cats would like to sulk in their den instead of having to do their responsibilities, but she’s our leader! She needs to take charge, not leave this scrawny half-grown kittypet in charge!” Patchpelt yowled with a furious lash of his tail, stepping away from Rosetail to glare at Fireheart bitterly. 

“That’s enough!” Fireheart blinked gratefully as he heard Yellowfang’s voice, turning to see the old healer limp up to stand in front of the crowd. “If you must know, Bluestar is ill. Between losing her lives and the leafbare cold, an infection has set in. She’s been ordered to rest for her health and yours. I don’t know if it’s contagious or not - which is why I had Fireheart set up a guard outside her den, to make sure no one went in and accidentally spread it.”

Though the crowd murmured worriedly at her announcement, he could see some of them begin to lighten up. Of course it made sense now why Bluestar was avoiding them - she was trying to keep them safe, just as she always had before. Fireheart wished he could believe that as easily as they did. 

“And who’s to say this infection wasn’t sent by Starclan?” He lowered his ears and grit his teeth as Patchpelt yowled again. “Perhaps it is punishment for breaking the code!”

“Starclan’s going to send you an infection next if you don’t stop questioning your leader and healer.” Yellowfang snapped, thrusting her flat muzzle in his direction. “Give her time to heal and I’m sure she’ll have plenty of answers for your nonsense then.”

The black and white elder stepped back as though her words had smacked him across the nose, but she didn’t seem to pay him any mind as she turned and padded back into her den. The crowd nodded and some cats began to disperse, but he realized with a jolt most cats were still looking at him. “Uh… that’s it. The meeting’s over.” He told them, flicking his tail to send them away.

They glanced at each other in confusion. “What about patrols for the day? It’s sunhigh, after all.” Mistspring mewed from near the front of the crowd.

Patrols! He dipped his head in embarrassment, even as he padded forward. “Of course. My bad.” Even as he said it, he felt his fur prickle uncomfortably. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to this - doling out patrols, ordering the other warriors around, doing what a normal deputy was supposed to do. 

The ginger tom glanced down at the river, which was still held at bay by a layer of ice. Lionheart was right that it seemed thinner than before, more transparent than he remembered it. He didn’t dwell on it too much, instead focusing up ahead as they approached a border marker.

“I guess. I just wish we had something exciting to do, to break up the monotony. At this point, I’d almost welcome-”

“Fireheart!”

The entire patrol turned in surprise at the yowl that had cut Mistspring off. He blinked in confusion as Cinderspark bounded towards them, ice clinging to her fluffy pelt. “Cinderspark? What are you doing out here? I thought you were supposed to be guarding Brokentail this morning.” Once again, a tingle of anxiety raced up his back. Why was she here? Surely he hadn’t done anything else wrong-

“I went all along the border looking for you guys! You’re so hard to find sometimes, you know that?” She complained loudly, scaring off several birds in the trees above. He squinted at her, still confused as to why she was here, and flicked his tail for her to hurry up. “Anyways, Dewpaw says Princess wants to see you!”

His heart began to beat faster. “Princess? Did she say why? She’s not in danger, is she?” Suddenly a thousand possibilities were racing through his mind. Had Dustleap been right? Maybe his sister had tired of the forest life, after all, and wanted to return back to her Twolegs. Maybe he had expected too much of her, to hope that she could be as comfortable in a Clan as he was. Maybe-

“Oh yeah! Dewpaw also said to tell you that Princess was kitting, and you should come quickly.” Cinderspark answered brightly, seemingly oblivious to what she was actually saying. 

Kitting?

Princess was kitting?

He felt as though he had been shoved into the river below, his blood going ice-cold in an instant. “Princess- okay- she’s?” He stuttered out, his tongue feeling useless in his mouth. He turned to Whitestorm, the leader of the patrol, with a silent plea to let him return to camp early.

Whitestorm dipped his broad head smoothly in response, anticipating his question before he could figure out how to ask it. “Of course, Fireheart. Cinderspark, why don’t you finish the patrol with us instead? I imagine you already got someone to cover guarding Brokentail in your place.”

“Of course! It’s so boring and stuffy in camp, anyways.” She grinned and waved her tail farewell to Fireheart as the patrol began to slowly move on, leaving him to sprint back to camp in the cold.

It felt like an eternity before his paws finally found their way down the side of the ravine, though the sun still had yet to peek above the trees. He raced through the bramble tunnel to camp without a second thought - thankfully, there was no one choosing to leave at that particular time. 

Camp was largely empty, save for Bluestar, who was sitting by the prison and cleaning her face. His eyes widened at the sight. Cinderspark had managed to get Thunderclan’s leader to cover guard duty for her? He wondered how she would feel if she knew Cinderspark was currently on patrol and had no plans to return any time soon - but he didn’t dare approach, out of fear of what Bluestar might say to him.

Instead, he took a deep breath and trotted over to the nursery. Just as he was approaching, a gray tabby form emerged from within. “Fireheart! There you are!” It was Dewpaw, carrying some dirty moss destined for the dirtplace. “Princess has been waiting for you. She’s tired, but… well, you can speak to her yourself.” The healer apprentice quickly departed from camp, leaving him to nervously enter the den in her place.

It was dark inside, and it took him several heartbeats for his eyes to adjust. There were only three cats inside; his sister, Yellowfang, and Peppermask. All three looked at him as he approached, but his eyes were only on his sister. “Fireheart!” She purred weakly, her paws kneading faintly. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” He replied softly, reaching out to nuzzle her comfortingly. She lifted her head a whisker-length off the ground to accept it, but he could tell from her half-lidded eyes that she was exhausted from the kitting. “They’re beautiful, Princess - almost as much as you are.”

“Oh, you.” She glanced down at her belly, where several round shapes were squirming around in the moss. “Yellowfang says that three are toms, and the other two are mollies.”

He looked down on the newborn kits with wide eyes. “Five kits! That’s so many!” Even now as he looked down at them, he could begin to pick out their individual pelts - especially the largest one, which was a bright white compared to its darker mottled siblings.

“Yes, especially for a leafbare litter.” Yellowfang grunted in her usual grumpy demeanor. “She’ll need lots of fresh-kill to have enough milk for all of them.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you with that.” Peppermask chirped next to him. She nosed a half-eaten cardinal at her paws. “I went out and caught this as soon as I heard the news Princess was kitting. I figured you wouldn’t have time, what with being on the border patrol.”

He blinked at her gratefully. He hadn’t even thought of how hungry his sister would be, and while he was a proficient hunter any cat would struggle to catch prey in leafbare. “I’m sure between the two of us, Princess will never go hungry.” 

The kits crawled around as they searched blindly for a teat to latch on, oblivious to the eyes watching them. “They’ll need names, you know.” Princess mewed, interrupting the silence after a long, peaceful moment. “Good Clan names, to match the warriors they’ll grow up to be.”

Fireheart stared down at them, the pressure of the momentous task suddenly weighing down on him. It felt as though every name he’d ever heard had suddenly fled his brain as soon as she’d spoken. What was a good Clan name? There was his name, of course, but none of these kits were the same ginger color as him, not to mention it felt a bit pretentious to name one after himself.

His eyes followed the squirming of the white kit, nosing angrily against a dark gray sibling. “Well, uhm, the white one looks like a cloud on a sunny day. And the one next to it looks like a cloud when it’s about to rain. Maybe we could do something with that?” He suggested, though even that made his whiskers curl in embarrassment. 

“Those are my first and second born.” Princess mewed softly, leaning down to give them each a lick on their little foreheads. “I think Cloud and Rain sound like lovely names for them. He looks like a little cloud, and his brother is the rain that comes after a cloudy day.”

“Clan names for kittens always end in -kit, so they’d be Cloudkit and Rainkit.” Peppermask interrupted gently, her green eyes soft as she looked down on the kits in front of them. “What about the others? Do you have any ideas for their names?” She prompted the new mother gently.

Princess slowly looked over each kit, carefully pondering the question. “This little molly is the runt of the litter.” She said at last, gently sweeping her tail to point out a tiny tortoiseshell struggling to suckle. “I want to give her a strong name, one that will give her the strength she needs to survive. Maybe something after one of the Great Clans that Goldenflower’s been telling me about, the ones Tigerclaw and Lionheart are named after.”

Fireheart bristled at the thought of naming one of them after Tigerclaw, but if Peppermask thought the same, she didn’t show it. “How about Lynxkit, after Lynxstar of Leopardclan? She was one of their greatest leaders, and I always did love listening to One-eye tell stories about her.” Peppermask suggested readily, her green eyes focused down on the kits.

“I like that. Lynxkit it is, then.” She purred, as the little tortoiseshell squealed angrily at a calico kit knocking her over with a shove. “And this one - I want to name her after a flower, something as pretty as she will be one day.”

The two mollies stared expectantly at Fireheart, causing him to gulp slightly. He barely knew any flowers! He wasn’t a healer, after all, why would he know any flowers? He thought hard, trying to think of any flower names he’d heard before. “What about, uh, sorrel? Er, Sorrelkit?” He stumbled over his words as he recalled Peppermask talking to him about the flower moons ago, when they had found Windclan’s camp. She’d mentioned sorrel flowering, so surely it was a flower, right?

“Sorrelkit.” Peppermask nodded slowly as she pondered it. “It’s a bit unusual for a molly, but it’s a good name for a warrior. Any cat that meets her will surely know she’s not to be trifled with.” 

He sighed gratefully, glad that his suggestion wasn’t too absurd. There was only one kit left now - a dark gray tom-kit, almost black in color. “What about this one? Maybe something to do with night, or darkness?” He offered weakly.

His sister shook her head as she watched her kits tumble over each other. “I want to name that one after you, Peppermask, and your sister - Dewpaw is your sister, right?” The two warriors both nodded agreement. “You two have helped me so much since I’ve joined Thunderclan. I want to honor that, if I can.”

Fireheart squinted as he puzzled over that, trying to figure out how to combine the names. Depperkit? Peppewkit? Or perhaps something to do with how dewdrops looked on pepper plants, maybe? 

Thankfully, Peppermask spoke up before he could voice any of these thoughts. “How about Sootkit? Mom told me once that if she’d had a second tom-kit after Graystripe, they would’ve named him that.” Her ears drooped as she recalled the memory, but after a heartbeat she shook her head and nudged Fireheart beside her. “Plus, soot is what comes after a fire burns, so he can be named after you as well!”

“That’s a lovely name. Sootkit it is.” Princess purred happily. The kits at her belly were beginning to settle down now, falling into a dreamless sleep as she spoke. “Cloudkit, Rainkit, Lynxkit, Sorrelkit, and Sootkit. Lovely names for lovely kits.”

“Yes, yes, just beautiful.” Fireheart startled slightly as Yellowfang spoke up - he’d almost forgotten that she was there. “Now that they all have names, why don’t you two get out and let her get some sleep? It’s been a long morning, and she could use some peace and quiet.” The old gray molly yawned ferociously, showing off her namesake to all three of them. “And frankly, so could I. Unlike you warriors, I don’t particularly like getting up before dawn.”

He dipped his head respectfully to the healer. “Of course. You need all the beauty sleep you can get, after all.” He replied cheekily, quickly dodging away as Yellowfang gave him a hiss and a clumsy, half-hearted swipe. 

He and Peppermask quickly bundled out of the nursery, saying their farewells to Princess as they departed. The gray tabby beside him sighed contentedly as she glanced up at the quickly brightening light above them, her eyes slightly misty. “I suppose I should replace Bluestar on guard duty, since Cinderspark doesn’t seem to have returned with you.” She sighed wearily before giving him a slight nudge. “As for you, why don’t you catch a few winks before Tigerclaw gets back? He never seems to let you sleep for long these days.”

“Don’t I know it.” Fireheart muttered bitterly, even as he waved goodbye to his friend. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been woken before dawn, either for guard duty or to patrol the borders. Just as he was about to turn and find his nest in the warriors’ den, he felt another cat amble up beside him.

He turned to see Yellowfang beside him, her copper eyes dark as she looked upon him. “Fireheart.” She mewed gruffly by way of greeting. “You should know that Clan queens typically don’t name kits before they’re at least a half-moon old. Before that, they tend to get sick, become frail, or just fade away with no cause, especially in leafbare.”

His fur prickled nervously as he glanced back at the nursery. “I- I guess I understand, but Princess seemed so happy…” He trailed off, suddenly unsure of himself. Should he have warned her? No, if any cat were to tell a queen such things, surely it would be Yellowfang herself. She’d had plenty of opportunities to interject, after all.

“The runt - the one you called Lynxkit, I believe - is so small, I don’t think she’ll survive more than a couple of nights.” The healer’s voice was low as she spoke, careful to keep it from drifting farther than the two of them. “I’m telling you this because if - when - it does happen, your sister will need your support.”

“I know - and I will.” Fireheart replied quietly. The implication that he was too mousebrained to know to comfort his sister in distress stung, but she had certainly been witness to some of his worse moments; he supposed it only made sense that she might think that. “I’m the reason she’s here now, and not under the care of Twolegs. I’ll do whatever it takes to take the best possible care of her, Yellowfang. I swear it on Starclan.”

The old healer grunted noncommittally in response, turning away for her den before he could say anything else. He watched her leave, his heart aching at the thought that he might never get to see any one of his sister’s kits again. He glanced up at the bracken ceiling that covered camp, sending a silent plea to Starclan above that all of Princess’ kits would survive and thrive.

“Keep it down back there! Do you want Brokentail to know we’re coming?” Dustleap snarled behind him. Cinderpaw closed her mouth but rolled her eyes at Fireheart, clearly only humoring the tabby. The ginger tom himself was tempted to only speak louder, but he knew that Tigerclaw’s son was right: if Brokentail didn’t yet know they were after him, surely they didn’t want to give away the advantage of surprise.

They traveled to the Twolegplace in silence, finally reaching his old garden once more. “This is where Brokentail attacked the kittypet.” Longtail murmured to the rest of them. “Do you think we’ll be able to track him from here?”

They all lifted their noses to the air, trying to catch a scent. Finally, Mistspring shook her head. “I don’t smell rogue or Shadowclan.” She replied to him quietly.

As Fireheart drew in another deep breath, he heard a slight cough and sputter from Mousefur. All of the cats turned to her in confusion. “Can’t you smell that?” The small brown molly growled, swiping at her nose with a sheathed paw furiously. “What is that disgusting stench? It’s worse than the Thunderpath!”

Fireheart hesitated, not sure what she meant. There were some familiar Twolegplace smells, but none that he would consider disgusting. He briefly wondered if it was his familiarity that was causing confusion, but from the looks on the other warriors’ faces, they didn’t know either. “Where is it coming from, Mousefur?” Longtail asked his sister urgently.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but dutifully tasted the air again. “This way.” The warrior mewed, nodding into the forest towards the Thunderpath. 

“That’s in our territory, then.” Dustleap growled. “We should investigate that first. If it’s a fox or badger, Tigerclaw will expect us to drive it out immediately.”

Though the former kittypet longed to dig his claws into Brokentail’s fur once more, he had to admit that the tabby was right. Something on their territory was more urgent than a distant threat off it. “Lead the way, Mousefur.” He mewed supportively, and she hesitantly took the lead once more with the rest of them right on her heels.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the patrol could smell it, too. “That’s no fox.” He choked out bitterly. It stank as badly as foxdung, or even worse, but it definitely smelled different from the one he had encountered as an apprentice.

“Nor a badger.” Mistspring chimed in. When Fireheart gave her a questioning look, she added, “One tried to make a den near the Windclan border when I was a new warrior. Both Clans worked together to drive it out then.”

They soon found the source: a mostly eaten-robin, a few maggots crawling around on it, on the edge of a clearing. “How long has this been here?” Cinderpaw wondered as she inched towards it curiously. 

Mistspring quickly held her apprentice back with a paw. “Be careful. Touching it could make you very sick.” She looked around for a moment, before bringing over a stick to carefully drag the rotten kill a little more into the open.

All the cats turned away, trying not to let the smell overwhelm them. Even in the cold air, it was still nearly unbearable. “What left this crowfood here? A kittypet?” Dustleap snarled as he backed away, his face scrunched up so much he almost looked like Brokentail. “Those wasteful little-”

“A kittypet would bring their trophy back to their garden.” Fireheart replied with a narrow glare at the tabby. “And bury it properly. No, I think this was left to send a message.”

Mousefur and Longtail began circling the crowfood, scenting at the air while trying not to catch a whiff of the crowfood. “Over here.” Mousefur mewed as she came to a halt on the far edge of the clearing. “Shadowclan scent.”

“Clawface.” Longtail mewed as he scented the ground. “We’re on the right track.” He glanced dismissively towards the crowfood. “Fireheart, Cinderpaw, why don’t you bury that while we follow the trail? We don’t want that stink attracting anything desperate.”

Fireheart’s lip curled into a snarl at being given an apprentice duty, but he nodded respectfully all the same. “Of course. Leave some markers so we can follow you.”

“And remind Brokentail whose territory this is.” Dustleap growled, dragging his claws down the bark of a nearby ash tree and leaving deep scratches to mark their territory. The four warriors bounded off, leaving Fireheart and Cinderpaw alone.

“We better get to it quickly.” He mewed to her, and found a suitable soft patch of soil to start digging into. Cinderpaw grabbed the stick her mentor had left behind, carefully dragging the crowfood over to the hole as soon as he was done and shoving it in. 

He had just begun covering it when he heard rustling in the bracken. Looking up, he saw Yellowfang and Dewpaw emerge from the bushes. Both were clutching sticks laden with cobwebs, and a loose moss bundle with still-colorful flowers and leaves inside. “I thought I heard something over here.” Yellowfang commented as she dropped what she was carrying. “Crowfood?” She asked as she scented the air.

“Clawface’s gift.” Fireheart confirmed as he dragged more earth over the crowfood. “Longtail and the others are on the trail.”

“They probably won’t have hunted too far from their new camp. I imagine they’ve already found them by now.” The old healer nodded for her apprentice to set her bundle down next to her. “We’ll set up here, then. Tell the others where to find us if they need us.”

“We will. Can you finish covering this for us?” Fireheart asked Dewpaw, who nodded quickly. “Make sure it’s well buried. We’re so close to the Twolegplace, I don’t want a dog finding it and digging it up.”

“Of course. Go on, but be safe. Both of you.” She touched noses with her sister, who was almost prancing in place in eagerness. Fireheart had barely turned around before Cinderpaw was already off, chasing after her mentor. The ginger tom gave an exasperated look over his shoulder to the healers before following her.

They found the rest of the patrol at a run-down section of Twolegplace fence. The roar of the Thunderpath was constant, drowning out any sound of their approach. Several pieces of wood from the fence had come off, and now were covered in dirt and moss, indicating they had been there a while. Through the gaps, he could see the Twoleg nest that this fence was supposed to protect. It was equally derelict, the windows hastily covered with some wood, while the door had come off its hinges entirely.

“No Twoleg has been here in seasons.” Fireheart hissed to the others. “They would never live in a place so run down.” 

“It’s the perfect cover.” Mousefur mused opposite him as she glanced through the gap they had all crowded around. “No warrior would go near it without reason, nor would any kittypet.”

“Fireheart. What can we expect inside?” Mistspring mewed softly to him, careful not to let her voice carry away on the wind and alert any cats lurking inside.

His fur prickled angrily for a moment. How was he supposed to know? He hadn’t been inside every Twoleg nest ever! Still, he forced it to flatten, knowing that the pale gray molly hadn’t meant anything by it. “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen the inside of an abandoned nest before.”

Dustleap snorted derisively, and he glared slightly at the tabby tom. “It might be empty, but there could still be furniture inside - that’s what Twolegs call their belongings. Most Twoleg furniture has room underneath it, or inside of it, so it’s easy to hide in, and those hiding places aren’t always immediately obvious. We should be prepared for them to jump out from anywhere.”

Even Longtail begrudgingly nodded in understanding at his words. “It doesn’t help that they’re former Shadowclan cats. Everyone knows they’re the most experienced in hiding in small nooks-”

“Psst!” Mousefur hissed at her brother, swiping with her tail for them to hide. They all flattened to the ground as best they could, trying to stay out of sight as they watched three large cats jump over the fence from another Twoleg nest. It was Stumpytail, Clawface, and a ginger tom nearly the same color as him that he didn’t recognize. Clawface was carrying a thrush, while the other two seemed to have returned empty-pawed.

The three toms trotted over to the empty door frame, seemingly unbothered as they were swallowed up by the yawning darkness inside. The patrol waited tensely for a few moments longer, but no cat left the nest as they watched.

“I didn’t recognize that orange cat.” Dustleap looked disdainfully towards Fireheart. “One of your kin?”

He was tempted to growl back in response, but instead shook his head in reply. “I’ve never seen him before. He didn’t look like a kittypet, either; he looked just as muscular as the rest of them.” The young tom mewed, his mind racing back through the battles he’d had with Shadowclan. Dustleap was right: He’d never seen a Shadowclan cat with such bright fur.

“It doesn’t matter. The mission stays the same.” Longtail growled lowly to all of them. “We drive them all out, no matter if there’s four or a dozen cats in there. And remember: these cats are kit-stealers and killers. They’re outside the warrior code now.”

With that ominous note, the thin tabby tom squeezed through the gap in the fence and began stalking through the weeds towards the nest, the patrol quickly filing in behind him. Fireheart’s blood roared in his ears as he followed. This was the moment of truth: there was no turning back now.

They bunched back up in the doorway, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness within. The state of the nest inside wasn’t any better: broken wood pieces littered the floor, which had been stained by seasons of rain and wind. What little furniture remained was barely holding together, although still recognizable. He recognized this area as similar to what his housefolk called the kitchen, where they had often prepared and sometimes eaten food. His own food bowl had been in the kitchen-

Longtail, Mistspring, and Mousefur stalked forward, cautiously investigating open cabinets for any lurking rogues. They checked carefully, and though Cinderpaw fidgeted impatiently beside him they all waited until each cat had gestured that the room was empty.

One of the doors out of the room was still closed, leaving only one option to move forward. The entire patrol huddled on each side of the door, waiting for a signal to enter from one of the older warriors. Just as Longtail nodded for them to move forward, their ears all perked as they heard meowing coming from beyond the doorway.

“When is Brokentail going to let us attack those fleabags, already? It’s so boring beating up these kittypet cowards! They never even fight back.” Fireheart didn’t recognize the voice, but he didn’t have to. Longtail immediately gestured for them to stay where they were, crouching and preparing to leap should the talker come into the kitchen.

“Patience, Ratscar. Brokentail has a plan. You have to trust in him.” His fur rose at the thought of the old Shadowclan tyrant plotting to attack them. His guess had been right, after all. He glanced over to Dustleap, whose orange eyes were ablaze in fury, though he still waited patiently for Longtail’s orders. “Why don’t you sate that thirst for blood with this thrush, hmm? Freshly caught from Thunderclan territory.” 

The voice was light, teasing, like two Clanmates bickering over the freshkill pile. His stomach churned at the thought, and his claws itched to show them a lesson. His muscles burned from how tense he was, but no still no one moved.

Several heartbeats passed before they heard the crunch of feathers and bones from the other room, Ratscar having evidently taken up his fellow rogue’s offer. Longtail met Fireheart’s eyes from across the doorway and nodded decisively. At once, all six cats burst out from where they were hiding. 

The room was covered in a ragged carpet, torn by both claws and the seasons. What little furniture might have once been in here was broken, though by what it was hard to say. It left a wide-open room with nowhere to hide for the rogues inside, who were gathered near one of the walls and clearly unprepared for the patrol as they charged in. 

Fireheart slammed into the cat he recognized as Stumpytail, knocking the breath out of him before he could howl an alarm. Despite the surprise, the tabby tom recovered almost immediately, lashing out at his attacker and barely missing the ginger warrior’s cheek.

He didn’t hesitate to leap forward, catching the tabby off balance and sending him crashing to the floor. Around them were the caterwauls and yowls of battle, no doubt alerting any rogue that hadn’t been in the room what was going on. He pinned his ears flat, doing his best to ignore the going-ons around him as he tore his claws into the former Shadowclanner’s belly.

Stumpytail flailed around for purchase beneath him. For a moment, he thought that perhaps the rogue might try and flee. Instead, he was caught off guard as the tabby found a foothold and lunged towards his throat. Fireheart barely avoided the snapping fangs, retaliating by sinking his own teeth into the other tom’s ear. He tore at it, feeling a satisfying ripping as he took out a chunk of the ear.

The rogue howled in pain, skittering away to shake his head as though it would get rid of the pain. Instead, it sent an arc of crimson droplets through the air, a couple landing on Fireheart’s pelt. “Maybe Brokentail will name you Stumpyear instead.” He spat the chunk of ear out, grinning triumphantly at the sight of the tom’s new half-ear. 

The former warrior roared in fury, leaping towards him with outstretched claws. Before the Thunderclanner could dodge out of the way, he watched in surprise and glee as Longtail slammed into the exile’s side. The two were immediately locked in a bitter turmoil, though he could see Stumpytail was already losing energy from the wounds Fireheart had already inflicted.

Just as he moved to help, he heard an anguished scream of pain. Snapping around, he caught sight of the new rogue, his lips curled in a snarl as he held Mistspring by the throat. 

“Mistspring!” He yowled as he watched helplessly. The bulky rogue met his eyes, showing his teeth in a vicious grin as the warrior struggled in his grasp before visibly crunching down. The pale molly instantly went limp.

 Fireheart looked on in horror. If he attacked now, the orange tom would only bite down harder, a death sentence if she was still alive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cinderpaw leap away from where she had been backing up Dustleap fighting another rogue. Her blue eyes went wide, then narrowed furiously as she realized the danger her mentor was in. “Cinderpaw, wai-”

He watched her dart forward, wincing as he prepared to see the new rogue snap the pale warrior’s neck from the force of the young molly’s blow. To his surprise, she stopped just short of the rogue tom, before lashing out with a paw faster than his eyes could see. He didn’t know what had happened until the rogue dropped Mistspring, backing away as he pawed at his throat and gasped for air.

Had she hit the rogue in his throat? He recalled the lesson that he had learned moons ago, back when he was still an apprentice; when struck in the neck, a cat will instinctively withdraw. Cinderpaw must have used that instinct to make him drop her mentor, he realized slowly. He’d expected her to attack recklessly, but she had instead displayed a level of foresight in the heat of battle that he didn’t know she was capable of.

He rushed to the apprentice’s side as she stood over her mentor. “Is she alive?” He asked the dark gray molly as he leaned down to nose at Mistspring. He could see the bleeding puncture marks where the rogue had bitten into her throat.

“I- I don’t-” The shock seemed to catch up to Cinderpaw, and he looked up at her worriedly as she suddenly gasped. “She is! I just saw her breathe!” 

“Get her to Yellowfang. Now. I’ll cover you.” He took a defensive position in front of the two as he glared at Brokentail’s new rogue, who was beginning to recover from the throat punch. His eyes burned in rage as he looked past Fireheart to the two mollies, but the warrior didn’t give him a chance to formulate a plan before he charged, rearing up and lashing out with both paws at the orange tabby’s eyes.

The rogue tom ducked and barrelled into him, nearly lifting the Thunderclan warrior off the floor. Fireheart didn’t hesitate, instead taking the opportunity to land on the orange rogue’s back and begin to tear into his scruff. He flattened his ears to the howls of pain from his claws, taking it as encouragement to continue shredding the rogue’s fur. 

The bright tabby bucked beneath him, trying to throw him off, until at last he dropped into a roll that slammed Fireheart onto the floor. The Thunderclan warrior wheezed but forced himself to his feet, not daring to take his eyes off the new rogue for more than a moment.

They stared each other down as Fireheart struggled to catch his breath. The other tom seemed about to attack when he felt another cat press into his side. “Need help?” He heard Mousefur mew, sparing a glance over to see her giving him a wicked grin.

“Please!” He answered, Mousefur immediately dashing forward and lashing out at the rogue, while Fireheart darted around to the other side and leaped at his back. He had barely dragged his claws through the tabby’s thick orange pelt before the rogue tom fled, tail tucked between his legs.

“That’s one down.” He mewed, turning to see the rest of the battle. It was bitter, especially with Mistspring and Cinderpaw both gone, but they had caught the rogues by surprise and that alone seemed to have been enough to strike fear into their hearts. Longtail seemed to have already chased off Stumpytail and was now helping Dustleap wrestle with Spiderfoot and a patched molly he had seen fight for Shadowclan before. Ratscar was nowhere to be seen, apparently having fled in the earlier fight. Mousefur had leaped into battle with Clawface, and he was just about to join her when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye.

His fur stood on end as he spied the familiar messy dark fur of the former Shadowclan tyrant sneaking through an adjacent room. Brokentail seemed to have already realized which way the fight was going, and chosen not to fight with his fellow code-breaking rogues. What a coward, Fireheart growled to himself as he abandoned the fight to hurtle after the rogue leader.

Brokentail spotted the ginger blur dart towards him and whirled around, his matted fur bristling furiously. “You! How dare you show your face again?” The exiled leader yowled, his dark eyes alight in fury. “You’ve taken my Clan from me, and now you think you can take my lives too?”

Fireheart snarled at him, letting his claws glint in the dim sunlight. “I’ll chase you however far I need to to make sure you never hurt another innocent cat again.” He spat, lunging for the tabby tom, but Brokentail stepped nimbly out of the way.

“We’ll see about that.” He thought the rogue leader would attack him, but instead he bolted away, leaving Fireheart to chase through the nest after him. Brokentail knew the nest better than he did, however, weaving his way through broken and mangled furniture as he sprinted for the front door. The Thunderclan warrior lagged behind, having to pick his way through the mess more carefully until the rogue leader was out of sight.

When he got to the front of the Twoleg nest, Fireheart was surprised to see the front door was still there and tightly shut. Surely the rogue hadn’t escaped through a solid door? Then he spied a dark tail tip disappear through one of the half-closed windows. The ginger warrior followed, leaping through the window fearlessly.

He grit his teeth as he found himself plunging through a rose bush, the dry thorns raking at his fur as he tumbled through the branches. He managed to land on his feet, shaking his fur out briefly before looking up to spot Brokentail bolting towards the Thunderpath.

“Not again!” He grunted to himself, forcing himself to race after the exile even as his wounds from the fight and fall began to sting bitterly. He wasn’t going to let Brokentail get away a second time! He had to answer for his crimes against the Clans, once and for all. The former Shadowclan leader looked over his shoulder at Fireheart as he darted across the Thunderpath, a mocking grin that said he knew he would be getting away from Fireheart once more.

"So you're certain she's gonna declare war?" Cinderpaw was the first to speak, as Firepaw expected. She pranced in place, obviously too excited or nervous to eat.

"She said as much while I was sitting there." He pawed the cardinal to Ravenpaw and Graypaw, allowing them to have the first bites. At Ravenpaw’s doubtful look, he quickly added, "You didn't see her. When Mosspaw said they'd been apprentices for two moons, she looked like she would have murdered Brokenstar right then and there. I thought Frostfury was bad, but the look on her face was worse."

Graypaw nodded as he swallowed a bite, moving over slightly to let Firepaw have some. "Bluestar's always been a real stickler about the six moon rule. One-eye said it's…" He hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one heard. "Well, she says it's because Bluestar lost her kits."

Firepaw perked his ears forward in surprise. "She had kitsh?" He asked ungracefully through his cardinal.

The gray tom shrugged. "That's what One-eye said, anyways. Bluestar doesn't want to see any more kits die after hers did, so she makes sure every apprentice is at least six full moons old."

The ginger apprentice glanced across camp to the leader's den, covered by lichen. It was impossible to see what might be going on inside. "She doesn't strike me as much of a mother." He mumbled, before pausing to reconsider. "Although, neither does Frostfury."

"She doesn't talk about it." Graypaw shrugged as Ravenpaw stole another bite. "But can you blame her? I doubt I'd want to talk about it either."

Firepaw had to agree with that. He couldn't imagine the grief he'd feel if he lost his sister, his only family, in a Clan where family was so paramount to one’s identity. "No wonder she was so mad at Brokenstar."

"Do you think we'll go to the Gathering tonight?" Cinderpaw wondered from atop the tree stump as she gazed out at camp. "Imagine if it breaks out into fighting!"

"I doubt it. That's against the code." Ravenpaw pointed out quietly. "Besides, she might want us here at camp in case Brokenstar tries anything funny. Maybe he'll come after his missing apprentice."

The gray molly deflated slightly. "Yea, but…"

"Technically, we'd probably have a greater chance of fighting being stuck here." Firepaw pointed out. "Didn't One-eye say that Shadowclan likes to attack the border during the full moon?"

She paused to consider what he was saying. "That's true." She thought it over a little bit more, a smile slowly coming to her face. "So if we want the greatest chance of getting to show our skills, we should get ourselves assigned to one of the border patrols!"

Firepaw grimaced at the thought of having to face Shadowclan after what they had done to Volepaw and Mosspaw. He knew they wouldn't hold anything back, but after that bone-chilling scene, neither would he. "I suppose so." He finally answered, quickly taking another bite so he wouldn't have to say anything else.

"Look, there she is now!" All three apprentices raised their heads to see Bluestar striding out of the moss curtain, Quickflash close behind her. 

She leaped up the side of the rock, letting out a loud yowl to alert the rest of camp. "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!" She called, those waiting around camp quickly assembling as more warriors poured out of her den. 

There were several tense moments as everyone found their place beneath her. "I have always been proud to be a warrior." Bluestar began, her voice solemn as it rang out across camp. "It is our devotion to our noble code that makes us great. The Clan thrives through hardship because of how we care for one another. And every time I look down on you, my courageous warriors, I know that each and every one of you feels the same." 

There were murmurs of approval in the crowd at her words. Firepaw watched, knowing all too well what was coming next. As stirring of a speech as it was, he couldn't feel moved when the memory of the two Shadowclan kits was burned into his mind.

"That is how every Clan should be." Bluestar yowled above the hushed whispers, causing the Clan to quiet once more. "But today I have learned that is not the case. For Brokenstar has flaunted the code so thoroughly, so egregiously, that Thunderclan can no longer stand idly by if we are to call ourselves warriors." Spines bristled and tails lashed at the mention of the enemy leader. "Today, one of our apprentices found two Shadowclan apprentices on our border. One was injured so badly he was unable to walk on his own."

"So that's why Dewpaw was running around like a clueless sparrow." Firepaw heard Longtail hiss to Mousefur sitting nearby. "As if we didn't have enough Shadowclan rejects."

"Brokenstar had thrown out this apprentice as a waste of herbs for a broken leg!" The ginger tom could hear the fury in her words causing her voice to tremble. "He would have died of blood loss were it not for Firepaw's quick thinking and Yellowfang's expertise." She dipped her head towards him in acknowledgement, and several cats turned to look at him. "But we have come to expect that manner of depravity from Shadowclan after they exiled their elders. We know that under Brokenstar's rule, they have no use for anyone less than perfectly fit, no matter how dedicated they are to the Clan." 

Firepaw could see snarls and grimaces at her words, but she continued on. "These apprentices told me that they had been training under Brokenstar for two moons now." She paused, letting her words sink in for a moment. "But they had yet to reach their sixth moon!"

There was a shocked silence at her words. "Bluestar, what do you mean?" He heard one of the elders call. "Surely even Brokenstar wouldn't be foolish enough to train kits!" Near the nursery, he could see Speckleflight protectively wrap her tail around Snowkit. He was about five moons old now; nearly the same age as Mosspaw and Volepaw were, he realized.

"Foolish, or bloodthirsty?" Bluestar challenged. "Yes, it's true; Brokenstar has been training kits as young as three moons old as apprentices. The ones on our border today were barely five!" She looked down on her horrified Clan. "Brokenstar has broken one of the most sacred rules of our code by turning away a five moon old kit to die. The ones we found today were lucky that we were there to help them; the next ones may not."

There were growls and hisses from the Clan at her words. "What would you have us do, Bluestar?" It was Willowbranch, staring determinedly up at her leader as her tail lashed in tandem with Mistspring's.

"Tonight is the full moon, and so another Gathering." The silver molly swept her icy blue gaze over her Clan. "Brokenstar must atone for his crimes in front of all the Clans. If he does not…" She trailed off for a moment as her gaze landed on Snowkit. "If he does not, then we must consider him - and all of Shadowclan with him - like we would any kit-murdering rogue group on our borders." She dug her claws into the rock below her, shining in the low light of the setting sun. "Thunderclan will go to war!"

There were yowls of agreement at her words, and even Longtail was nodding in response to her words. It seemed that now that Brokenstar had horribly broken the warrior code, none in the Clan could argue with her. "Of course, tonight's Gathering will be dangerous. Given he does not respect the warrior code, I would not put it past him to break the truce when confronted with his crimes. It is also possible Brokenstar will send an assault on our borders for taking in his apprentices.  But Thunderclan must stand for what is right, or stand responsible for the atrocities he will continue to commit." The Clan nodded in understanding as she spoke. 

"For this reason, I am taking only our most seasoned warriors to the Gathering tonight. All elders, queens, and apprentices must remain behind to help guard the camp and our territory." There was no argument against her; as disappointed as he might be not to go, Firepaw was hardly eager to throw himself into the adder's nest that the Gathering would become. "Alongside Quickflash and Spottedleaf, I will be bringing Whitestorm, Tigerclaw, Lionheart, Tinyfrost, and Dappleshine." It was a small patrol, especially with no apprentices, but it consisted of the most elite warriors in the Clan; If they got into trouble at the Gathering, even Shadowclan would have trouble besting them. "The first night patrol will be Darkstripe, Mousefur, Peppermask, and Ravenpaw. The second night patrol will be Longtail, Sandstorm, Mistspring, and Cinderpaw."

Cinderpaw gave a tiny, excited squeal from beside Graypaw, and her brother gave her a hearty nudge in response. Firepaw threw her a small smile, but internally he was worried. What if Shadowclan attacked tonight? Would the Clan be ready?

He didn't voice his thoughts, however, as Bluestar gave a final nod to the Clan. "May Starclan watch over us. Meeting dismissed." With that, she hopped down, the warriors selected to go to the Gathering beginning to form around her.

"It's too bad you two are gonna be stuck in camp all night!" Cinderpaw crowed as she got to her feet, prancing around the other apprentices. "I hope I finally get the chance to show Shadowclan my stuff!" She jabbed out a couple of times at nothing, her paws a blur even as Firepaw focused on them. He had to admit; she'd become a fierce fighter in her own right, a far cry from the excitable but relatively innocuous apprentice she'd been when they first met.

"Good luck with that." Firepaw perked up as he heard a familiar voice speaking, and turned to see Peppermask had approached from the crowd. "Be safe out there, okay? Shadowclan's gotten a lot more dangerous now that they don't follow the code." She shuddered as she spoke. "Those poor kittens. Do you think they'll be okay?"

"Yellowfang and Dewpaw did a great job." Firepaw assured her with a small smile. "Do you want to come share a meal with us? For old times' sake?" He offered, gesturing to the tree stump the apprentices shared meals at.

She shook her head with a small smile. "Can't. I'm on the first night patrol, remember?" She looked to Ravenpaw, who was worriedly staring off into the distance. "I'm actually here for him. Darkstripe wants to go now, before the moon rises."

The black tom continued staring for a moment, as though he didn't hear her, before snapping back to attention as she prodded him with a silver paw. "Right! Coming!" He jumped to his feet and trotted over to where Darkstripe and Mousefur were already waiting.

The others stared off after him. "I don't suppose he was…?" Peppermask trailed off as she perked an ear towards Firepaw.

"I don't think so. I didn't see anything, anyways, and we know I can." He glanced to where Yellowfang was sitting by the healer's den, washing her ears. He didn't want to say too much, for fear of invoking her ire, but Peppermask seemed to get the point and nodded.

"Well, I best be off then. Be safe, all of you." With that, the spotted molly trotted off, leaving only the three apprentices in the middle of the clearing.

"What was that about?" Cinderpaw asked curiously, looking between the other two. No one had told her about Redtail, out of fear that she would accidentally say something to Tigerclaw or one of his cronies in her chattering. The two toms glanced at each other, wordlessly deciding who would get to lie to her this time.

"Ravenpaw's been worried that some wasps might be making a hive in camp. Apparently he found one in his nest." Firepaw fibbed, standing up and stretching. "I haven't seen any lately though."

She glared at him suspiciously for a moment. "You should've told me! Everyone knows I'm the best at spotting bugs! Ever since I was a little kit! I’ve got eyes like a hawk!" She crouched down with a grin, eyeing some invisible insect before pouncing. 

"My bad. I guess I didn't know." Firepaw rolled his eyes while the molly's back was turned to Graypaw, who stifled a giggle. "Hey, you should take the elders and queens their share for the evening. Graypaw and I already took care of it yesterday, so it's your turn."

"Aw, come on. It's not fair I have to do it alone!" The molly whined as she sat back on her haunches. "One of you should come with me!"

"Get Ravenpaw to help you." Her brother suggested cheekily as he began padding off.

"That's a great idea!" Cinderpaw replied, sprinting off for a moment while Firepaw and Graypaw giggled behind her. She stopped a few paces away from them as realization dawned on her. "Hold on…"

The two trotted happily out of close hearing range from her, settling down in the cool grass beside the tree stump. "So now what?" Firepaw asked the other tom. "Just stay up until something happens?"

The dark gray apprentice shrugged. "We should probably get some sleep too. If there's a war coming, we'll want to be well rested." He glanced at the fern entrance to the den, stifling a yawn. "I could use a few winks right now."

"Why don't we split watch? I'll take first watch, you take second." He tapped the other tom lightly with his tail. "Besides, I'm not that tired right now anyways." 

"Works for me!" Graypaw replied, standing up and stretching out for a moment. "See you in the morning." With that, he pushed past the fronds into the den, leaving Firepaw alone.

The ginger apprentice rested his head lightly on his paws, watching as Cinderpaw lugged squirrels around camp. The rest of camp was quiet, a few warriors and elders sharing tongues in the twilight air while Willowbranch and Dustleap kept a watchful eye on camp. 

RUSTLE!

He pounced, but the mouse was already skittering away. He made one last clumsy swipe after it, but it nimbly evaded him and darted into a hole. Cursing under his breath, he whirled around, ready to give whoever had interrupted him a piece of his mind.

To his surprise, a figure was standing there silently, watching him. He couldn’t make out more than the silhouette in the darkness, enough to see it was bigger than Graypaw, smaller than Lionheart, and just as fluffy as the two of them combined. “Who’s there?” He asked cautiously, stepping forward to try and get a better look.

The creature stared at him a moment longer before dashing away into the undergrowth in a flash of red, moving faster than any cat Firepaw had seen. “Hey! Wait!” He called, about to chase after it-

WHAM!

Something slammed into his shoulder, throwing him aside. He barely managed to keep his footing as he staggered into a tree, gaze darting around to catch who had done it. The forest, however, was empty. After a few tense moments, he started to relax, thinking whatever it was had surely gone by-

WHAM!

Firepaw startled awake to see Cinderpaw standing over him, blue eyes shining brightly despite the half light. “You’re finally awake! I thought you were gonna sleep for ages and ages, you were really out cold there!”

“Starclan, Cinderpaw, would you give him some room to breathe without your stinky breath in his face?” Graypaw yawned as he stretched out, clearly woken by the commotion. “What’s the rush, anyways?”

“I do not! You’re the one with the dog breath!” Cinderpaw snapped, whirling around to glare at her brother. “Oh right! Bluestar’s about to call a meeting! C’mon, c’mon, we’re gonna miss it if you two keep snoozing away all night! You’re lazier than... uh…” She glanced awkwardly over at Firepaw as she trailed off.

“About to? How do you know?” Graypaw grumbled, his eyes half-lidded until his sister’s last words, when they suddenly snapped open. “Hey, watch your tongue.”

It didn’t take a genius to realize what Cinderpaw had been about to say, but Firepaw didn’t let on as he eyed her carefully. “Yeah, how do you know? Has she called everyone together?”

She pouted as she looked between the two of them. “Well, no, but she’s in her den with Whitestorm and Spottedleaf right now! And it’s almost moonhigh! She’s gotta make a decision soon!”

“Define almost.” Graypaw padded over to the entrance of the den, squinting up at the sky outside. “Huh, it is almost moonhigh. And- Firepaw, Cinderpaw, c'mon! Bluestar’s coming out of her den!”

In a flash, his sister was already pushing her way past him, bolting out of the den. Firepaw and Graypaw were right on her heels, emerging from the den just in time to hear Bluestar calling out over the camp.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock!”

She hadn’t needed to call them together; the entire camp had been merely waiting for the signal to gather. They slipped out from the shadows, much as they had when Firepaw had first arrived; now, however, they solemnly assembled around the body in camp. Carefully, they avoided those still mourning, who turned to watch Bluestar through tear-filled eyes.

“As you all saw, Ravenpaw was grievously wounded in the fight with Riverclan. However, I have spoken to Spottedleaf, and she believes that he will survive the night.” There were sighs of relief across the camp at the mention of the tiny black apprentice. “He will be staying in the healer’s den until his wounds have healed. May Starclan grant him a speedy recovery.”

Firepaw glanced towards the healer’s den to see Spottedleaf sitting there, quietly looking on. Even as far away as she was, he could tell that she was exhausted; all the excitement and fighting must have taken a toll on her. Her ears and eyelids drooped, and she swayed slightly in the breeze. Nonetheless, she dipped her head in acknowledgement as the Clan directed gratefulness and well-wishes her way.

“As the code dictates, a new deputy must be chosen before moonhigh. Before I do, however, I wish to thank Redtail for his courage and sacrifice defending our borders.” She raised her gaze to the stars above, searching the bright lights as though seeking some sort of sign. “May he sit with great honor among the stars.”

A hush fell over the crowd as they watched the sky, above. Firepaw searched as well, unsure what they were waiting for. His eyes followed the bright streak of stars above - the Startrail, as Graypaw had called it. He blinked in surprise as a red one close to the edge caught his eye. Each star is a warrior that has joined them. Could it be?

He dismissed the thought as Bluestar began to speak again. “I say these words before Redtail and Starclan, so that they may hear and approve of my choice.” She searched the crowd below, and Firepaw looked to them to see that every cat was hanging on her words, waiting to hear her decision.

“Quickflash will be the new deputy of Thunderclan.”

The crowd immediately erupted into whispers, gossiping amongst themselves about what they thought of her announcement. Firepaw searched the crowd to see the pale tabby that Graypaw had pointed out earlier, who seemed shocked at the decision. Beside him, a silver tabby - Willowbranch, Firepaw remembered, Graypaw’s mother - gently brushed her cheek against his in support.

“I- I am honored, Bluestar.” Quickflash finally spoke, standing as the rest of the Clan looked to him. “I could never possibly hope to outshine Redtail. He was the best deputy a Clan could ask for.” The lengthy tom glanced to the rest of the Clan, angling his ears to hear their murmurs of support. “But I will do everything in my power to serve you, and Thunderclan, Starclan willing.”

Bluestar gave a satisfied nod at his words. “May it be Starclan’s will.” With that, she leaped nimbly off of the rock, the warriors at the base parting to let her pass. As she walked by Quickflash, she briefly touched noses with him, before walking over to Redtail’s body and laying down beside it once more.

Quickflash stood as well and moved towards the warrior’s den, but he only made it a few steps before he was surrounded by Clanmates. “Wow, Dad! I can’t believe you’re deputy now!” Firepaw heard Graypaw’s words above the rest, and he smiled at seeing the genuine delight in Graypaw’s face. “Congratulations! I know you’re gonna be the best deputy ever!”

The older tom smiled and nuzzled his son affectionately. “I hope so.” He agreed, casting a look behind him to Redtail’s still body. “I have some big paws to fill.”

“You can do it, Dad! You’re the best warrior Thunderclan’s ever had!” Cinderpaw chimed in, practically prancing in place beside Graypaw. “Probably the best warrior in all the Clans!”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Despite his words, Quickflash was beaming as he looked down at his daughter. “Don’t think you’ll be getting out of any apprentice duties just because your old tomcat’s the deputy now. I’ll make sure Mistspring pushes you twice as hard as everyone else.”

“Don’t you worry about a thing. I can’t be going soft on my niece, Willowbranch would never forgive me.” A pale, almost white molly spoke up from behind the apprentices; Mistspring, Firepaw assumed. “I’ll make sure that the deputy’s daughter grows up to be just as good a warrior as her father.”

Quickflash dipped his head to the molly. “I’ll hold you to that.” With that he nudged his son and daughter towards the apprentice den. “Now you two best go get some sleep. Sunrise isn’t far away, and you won’t want to be tired for training tomorrow.”

As he turned to accept more congratulations from the rest of the Clan, Graypaw and Cinderpaw bounced their way over to Firepaw. “I can’t believe Bluestar made Dad deputy! I thought for sure Pepperpaw was right and she’d choose Whitestorm. He’s practically deputy already!” Graypaw mewed to the other two, his whiskers twitching in surprise.

“Even I can be wrong, brother dearest.” Pepperpaw cut in dryly as she made her way over to them. “Dad is a good choice, though. Bluestar gave him Dustleap as an apprentice for a reason; he’s rational, dependable, and disciplined. I can’t think of anyone better to mentor a deputy’s kit, or become deputy himself.”

“If you’d asked me, I would’ve totally told you it was gonna be Dad! He really is the best warrior ever! Much better than Tigerclaw or Whitestorm.” Firepaw watched as her siblings rolled their eyes, clearly used to Cinderpaw’s boasting. “None of you guys ever ask me anything, though. Even when I’m clearly the best at predicting things, ever!”

“Yes, yes, it’s almost like Starclan themselves whisper in your ear.” Pepperpaw’s sarcasm seemed to go unnoticed by Cinderpaw, who nodded enthusiastically at her words. “I’m gonna stay out here and wait for Dewpaw. You guys better get some rest, we’ll be in in a bit.”

“Okay! Don’t worry, we’ll do our best to save a spot for you. Unless Cinderpaw hogs all the moss first!” Graypaw winked at Firepaw and turned away, ignoring Cinderpaw’s raspberry behind him. “Good night!”

Pushing his way inside, Firepaw returned to his crudely constructed nest, watching as Cinderpaw scraped together her own next to Graypaw. It wasn’t long before Dewpaw and Pepperpaw joined them, shortly assembling a pile of gray cats inside the den.