#And to BEGIN with ShadowClan is RIDICULOUSLY small

[bonefall]

Are there any changes to Smokepaw (ShadowClan Apprentice in TNP) in BB? He is my all time favourite Warriors character for literally no reason, he existed twice, the second time to fall off a cliff and die, but I love him. I feel like he was a huge waste of potential, in that first time he appeared I thought of Blackstar as a sort of parental figure to him. Think like Firepaw and Bluestar, maybe? Or maybe more like Firepaw and Yellowfang? I'm sure that was just me serious projecting onto like less than a page of screen time, but I am so attached to him. I even made an AU where there was a conveniently placed river that swept him away to the Sundrown Place where he was taken in by Midnight.

Does BB have anything for my little guy?

Smokefall! Given an obligatory Sardonic ShadowClan name after he fell off a cliff and forced the entire journey to halt in its tracks for almost a month!

because shadowclan is like, ridiculously small and the family tree is a brick, Smokepaw (TNP), Smokepaw (Field Guides), and Smokefoot (Po3) are reworked. SmokeFALL survives, Smokepaw is now BILLOWCLOUD, and Smokefoot is SMOGFOOT.

Smog and Smoke are siblings. Billowcloud is not related to them.

Anyway, Smokepaw got REALLY hurt in that fall, but did survive

A (currently unpicked) Tribe cat actually climbed all the way down to get him. He had to be carried the rest of the way.

But once safe, he really couldn't move or else jeopardize his recovery. That, paired with a lack of travelling rations and a few pregnant cats close to delivery halted the Journey.

But Smokepaw still got ribbed relentlessly for "holding everyone up." Poor guy. ShadowClan humor.

Talonpaw got really close to him in that time. In fact, a LOT of cats developed close bonds in this "intermission," including many of the cats who would ultimately support Mudclaw's claim in WindClan.

Brambleclaw and Hawkfrost, as well.

In general, this is a really important hiatus because it's adding some PIVOTAL breathing room for cats to bond free of Clan divisions.

Clan Culture is never really the same after this. It's a change a long time coming.

He is also one of Birchfall's friends. This entire apprentice/kit generation has a very odd view on Clan divisions, because the Destruction of White Hart and the subsequent journey were so formative.

It was actually Smokepaw's "idea" to make Paw Soup. It came from a suggestion towards some WindClan apprentices, that they should try to make an ancient gumbo recipe that hadn't been seen since the start of Heatherstar's campaign.

Birchkit and his big bro Spiderpaw butted in, RiverClan apprentices didn't want to be left out, and the rest is history.

They never did make that gumbo but they made something new.

At the Lake, he also prevents Talonpaw from dying to Jacques and The Dreaded Susan. By also getting his ass beat.

(But that's probably gonna be offscreen because im not dedicating several chapters to it like canon when theres a civil war that should be in focus)

Smokefall becomes the next Educator of ShadowClan, and the mate of Talonclaw. Eventually Smogfoot surrogates a kit for them-- probably Pinenose.

The couple shows up at various points throughout Po3 and OotS as very important friends of Birchfall, and general friendly faces in ShadowClan which is a major ally through the arcs.

Sadly, though, they meet a gruesome and tragic end in AVoS. The Kin is a cult, and once it takes power, it immediately targets the one who teaches history. Smokefall. Talonclaw refuses to abandon his mate.

His position is taken by the infamous Berryheart, who is the educator through TBC. He is survived by several grandkits through Pinenose-- Slatefur, Puddleshine, and Happyface.

[legionairemutt]

TNP CHAPTER 2 Outline

Rowanclaw woke with a start as Cedarheart prodded their side roughly. Their brother complained loudly as the ginger cat blinked awake, telling them they’d be mewling and thrashing like a raging badger as they slept. Rowanclaw stretched, whining that they’d had such strange dreams and it wasn’t their fault they slept awfully. Cedarheart teased Rowanclaw, saying that they’d sleep better if they’d stop getting their tail in a twist about every little noise in the forest. Tawnyshade spoke up from nearby, snapping at Cedarheart to stop teasing Rowanclaw for nightmares. 

Rowanclaw curls in on themselves slightly as Cedarheart and Tawnyshade begin arguing between each other, noting how much it made their heart flutter when Tawnyshade came to their defense. They knew it was ridiculous, as Tawnyshade had expressed she had no interested in silly crushes or relationships when she’d first joined the clan. Still, Rowanclaw couldn’t help but admire the confident molly, though they tried to justify their feelings as simple respect for a talented warrior. 

Brownfleck poked his head into the den suddenly, growling at the young warriors to quit yapping like chatty foxes and to get up. Cedarheart complained loudly that they hadn’t been assigned patrols yet, so they had no need to hurry anywhere. Brownfleck retorted that they wouldn’t want to experience Russetfur’s wraith in having to wake them up to hear the patrol assignments for the night. The young warriors all agree, padding out of the den. 

Rowanclaw notes that even in the supposed darkness of the night, the moon illuminated the shadowy hollow as if it were day. They much preferred the night time, as most ShadowClan cats did, but was well aware that their red pelt made them a better Day-Walker. They was often assigned to the morning and afternoon patrols, and had taken to resting through the evening. Still being expected to get up for Russetfur’s patrol assignments left them slightly sleep deprived, however, as they often struggled to go back to sleep once the moon was out. 

They shook the needles from their fur after they padded out of the den, padded close after Tawnyshade as the three warriors went to gather around the rotting stump Russetfur had claimed as her own ‘high place’ to announce things. Rowanclaw noted Blackstar was lodging up in the High Pine, vigilantly watching his clanmates. Rowanclaw supressed a purr as Blackstar nodded at them directly. They were surprised when Cedarheart huffed beside them, but when they turned to look, Cedarheart stared strictly forward at Russetfur. 

The ginger molly yowled to get the attention of the cats gathered, despite them all being mostly quiet. The gossip and prey sharing often didn’t start until Russetfur’s announcements were over, though some of the more chatty cats had been whispering. 

Rowanclaw noted that the queens were hanging around outside the nursery. Most of the kits were far too young to be out at night, so small they’d easily be carried away by owls. The entire clan had become strict about the protection of the young cats, especially after Brokenstar’s reign. 

Nightwing smiled and nodded her head in greeting at Rowanclaw, and they waved their tail at their brother’s mate. Cedarheart huffed again beside them, though this time they chose to ignore it, instead focusing on Russetfur as she began to speak. 

Russetfur assigned the night patrols first, naming Flintfang patrol leader to WindClan, with Brownfleck and Snowbird assigned with him. Wetfoot was assigned to dawn Thunderclan patrol, with Rowanclaw, Snakepaw, and Nightwhisper assigned with him. Rowanclaw winced at that. Nightwhisper was also a hard cat to deal with, especially with his occasional commentary about Tigerstar. He had proven to be quite a loyal warrior, but he didn’t seem to want to let the past go. Assigning him to Thunderclan felt like a bad decision to Rowanclaw, but they kept it to themselves, trusting Russetfur’s decisions. 

After the hunting patrols had been assigned for the night, the cats were dismissed and began to filter either out of camp, back to the dens, or to the prey pile. Before Rowanclaw could really move, they felt a long presence press against their side and looked over to see Tawnyshade smiling down at them. The large molly practically dwarfed them in size, and they had to admit it made them nervous. 

Tawnyshade offered Rowanclaw a chance for a nightly stroll, stating she wanted to spend time with them. Ratscar’s snickering made Rowanclaw’s pelt burn, but they assured themselves Tawnyshade just wanted to spend time as friends. They quickly agreed, more than happy to go with her. 

As the two left camp, Rowanclaw took a deep breath, taking in the comforting scents of pine and marsh. Tawnyshade remarked that it was always relaxing to be in the forest at night. Rowanclaw agrees, stating that they always liked to be in the dark, it always felt safer to be blanketed by the night sky than be picked out by the blazing sun. Tawnyshade commented about the old stories her mother used to tell, about the ancient cats that spent so much time in the shadows it stained their pelts and sharpened their senses and claws. Rowanclaw tells her their mother used to tell them ShadowClan cats were descending from the ancient tigers. 

The brief reminder of TigerClan caught up with both of them and Tawnyshade let out a heavy sigh. She admits to Rowanclaw she is still worried about the clans, and Rowanclaw hesitates. They open up quickly after, admitting to Tawnyshade that they too worried. The forest had yet to recover from the BloodClan battle, and Rowanclaw fears it was affecting all cats in ShadowClan the hardest. 

They recount how they’d been told by Blackstar and Russetfur that many of the senior and older warriors expressed a reluctance to have more kits. Brownfleck, Wetfoot, and Ratscar especially didn’t want to have kits, after their experience training under Brokenstar. So many of their clanmates had died of the sickness, the battles, and the brutal training that ShadowClan was the smallest clan in the forest. 

Tawnyshade asks whether they were thinking of letting in outsiders and Rowanclaw nods, stating that Russetfur had reluctantly suggested it as a potential alternative. Tawnyshade says it isn’t a terrible idea, though she admits that it would take special care to find the right kind of cats to fight in with the clans properly. She didn’t mind rogues, saying she almost admired their freedom, but she worried about those who would join just for easy food and not respect the warrior code as they should. 

Rowanclaw agrees, mentioning that some of the Bloodclan cats were still around twoleg place. They’d apparently regrouped, according to rumors from local kittypets, and were actively recruiting more cats. Tawnyshade asked if they were worried about them attacking the clans again, and Rowanclaw hesitantly confirms that yes, it was a concern. Blackstar was reluctant to mention it at the gatherings just yet, as he had no doubt the other clans would accuse him of working with these rogues. Especially if he couldn’t say where the information came from. 

Tawnyshade let the news sink in for a moment, before agreeing that Blackstar shouldn’t tell them just yet, at least not so publicly. She mentioned how it would be wiser to inform each leader separately. Laughing suddenly, she remarks how its admirable how much Russetfur and Blackstar trusted Rowanclaw with such important information. Rowanclaw, flustered, asked what she meant by that, remarking that they thought these conversations happened with most of the other warriors. Tawnyshade shakes her head, informing Rowanclaw that no, Blackstar rarely shared information with even his senior warriors. Flintfang and Wolfstep were quite vocal about it. 

Rowanclaw said they hadn’t realized, and wasn’t entirely sure why Russetfur and Blackstar often informed him of such information. Tawnyshade mentions quickly that Finchflight had told her about what it used to be like, how in Cedarstar and Raggedstar’s eras, the deputy and leader would often choose a young warrior to prepare for future leadership. Tawnyshade suggests that maybe Blackstar is attempting to go back to old traditions, though Rowanclaw quickly denied it, saying there was no way they were trying to prepare them for leadership. 

Tawnyshade tilts her head, asking why Rowanclaw doesn’t think it would be them. Rowanclaw rants for a moment, stating how there are plenty of other young warriors far more qualified. Wildfur is tenacious and confident, as well as charming. Cedarheart is an amazing fighter, as well as super intelligent. Nightwing is a super compassionate cat, and amazing at organizing things. They mention that Tawnyshade would be a much better pick to prepare, seeing as they were all those things and more and generally an amazing warrior. Tawnyshade shakes her head quickly, stating she has absolutely no interest in ever leading a clan. She informs Rowanclaw that they are  a good pick, as they’re observant and focus much more on supporting their clanmates and upholding the warrior code than fighting and convincing people to like them. When Rowanclaw argues that they’re too timid to ever be a leader and that they aren’t sure anyone would support them, Tawnyshade leans close, pressing their foreheads together as she states she would always support them. 

Rowanclaw feels their fur burning, and stares into Tawnyshade’s pine green eyes for a long time. Tawnyshade purrs, backing up and teasing Rowanclaw about freezing up like a mouse. Rowanclaw stammers that they get nervous about pretty mollies, immediately panicking before Tawnyshade laughs about the compliment. Tawnyshade says while she likes them, she wants them to try a little harder than one nervous compliment before she’ll agree to be mates. Without waiting for a reply, Tawnyshade suggests the head back, noting she has to leave for a hunting patrol soon. 

Rowanclaw agrees, their mind racing with thoughts of a future with Tawnyshade as they head back to camp. Tawnyshade bids them farewell with a brush of their shoulders and Rowanclaw nearly trips over Newtspeck where she and Boulder had been crouched sharing a frog. Newtspeck snaps at the young warrior to pay attention, commenting on the fact that they were always so dazed.  The two share a silent glare, before Newtspeck remarks that Russetfur was looking for them. Boulder lets out a rusty purr, remarking how Russetfur and Blackstar had certainly taken an interest in Rowanclaw’s position as a warrior. Rowanclaw hummed in agreement, the gray tom’s praise warming them slightly. They turned to Newtspeckasking about why Blackstar would be involving him in more political matters. 

Newtspeck confirms that its the old Shadowclan tradition of preparing the next leader, and remarks she surprised Rowanclaw was picked. Rowanclaw agrees, saying they thought it was odd, but wasn’t about to question the leader, let alone disappoint him. Newtspeck expresses some admiration for the honesty, though snaps that the young warrior should have a little more confidence. 

Rowanclaw quickly bids the cats farewell, slightly annoyed with themselves for their awkward interactions with Newtspeck. They padded towards the roots of the Great Pine, where Blackstar’s den was carved into the ground. 

They ducked in, taken in the rich bark smell as they called out to announce their presence. Russetfur called them in, telling them to hurry up because she was fed up waiting for them. Rowanclaw apologized, to which Blackstar asked about their stroll with Tawnyshade. Rowanclaw stammers their reply and Blackstar and Russetfur share a mild look of amusement. 

Blackstar begins to talk more about the issue of rogues, saying he’d like to send a patrol to scout out kittypets and loners who might be interested in joining. Russetfur mentions the former clan cat who lived on the farm, Raven, as a potential candidate, but Rowanclaw interjects, expressing how they weren’t sure a cat that left the clans would want to return, especially to a different clan. Russetfur agrees, though still thinks its worth a try at the very least. 

Blackstar reminds her they’d have to get Tallstar’s permission to cross, and he wasn’t keen on intruding on the old tom’s territory so soon after things had calmed. Rowanclaw quickly mentions it might be a good time to inform Tallstar of the Bloodclan worries, especially in a more private setting. Blackstar asks if they thinks he should contact each leader individual and Rowanclaw confirms, though adds that even sending a warrior to do so would also be acceptable. Blackstar agrees, mentioning that him waltzing into another clans territory could be taken as a threat. He asks if Rowanclaw would be up to the task, remarking that he’d prefer if they completed it before the next gathering. Rowanclaw quickly agrees, though does ask why Blackstar trusts them so much. Blackstar simply says Rowanclaw has the traits of a trustworthy warrior, and one who cares for their clan. Overwhelmed by the praise, Rowanclaw thanks their leader, and Blackstar dismisses them, allowing them to go prepare for their patrols. 

Later, Rowanclaw complains loudly to Wetfoot that the greenleaf sun was starting to get unbearable. Rowanclaw had always preferred the leafbare temperatures, though they had to admit the lack of prey was a downside. Nightwhisper mocks them, stating they’d probably much prefer being a kittypet where thye could enjoy the snow while still having a full belly. Rowanclaw huffs, stating that they’d never be a kittypet, as they enjoy the freedom of the forest far too much. 

Nightwhisper argues that some rogues consider the clans just as much of a trap as a kittypet’s den, and Wetfoot interjects, saying clearly Nightwhisper doesn’t believe that’s true since he stayed. Snakepaw mimics his mentor, mentioning the fact that Nigthwhisper even brought Kinkpaw into the clans because he loved the ‘den trap’ so much. Nightwhisper admits he enjoys ShadowClan, though he doesn’t quite get every aspect of ShadowClan life just yet. 

As the patrol approaches the ThunderClan border, Wetfoot stops by the Thunderpath the explain the danger to Snakepaw. Rowanclaw tuned out quickly, having heard the lecture many times. Their attention was peaked as a Thunderclan patrol strolled up. He quickly recognized Thornclaw, Sandstorm, and Brambleheart, followed by a rather tall, but thin cat, whom Rowanclaw guessed was just an overgrown apprentice. 

Beside him, Nightwhisper purred. He remarked about the similarities between Brambleheart and Tigerstar, mentioning that the two were hardly distinguishable by this point. Rowanclaw watched with tnesion in their back as Nightwhisper grinned viciously at Brambleheart. They felt bad, as the young warrior seemed to flinch away before locking eyes with them. Rowanclaw tried to make their gaze sympathetic, though they were quickly reminded of the way Tawnyshade smiles when Brambleheart smiled softly and waved. 

Rowanclaw bristled, realizing they’d been practically glaring at him just trying to see and they ducked their head, turning to Wetfoot to avoid the embarassment. It was then Wetfoot actually noticed the ThunderClan patrol, having been absorbing in the lecture he was giving Snakepaw. Unfortuantely, that was when Sandstorm deciding to yowl across to them, telling Wetfoot to move his patrol along. Wetfoot muttered that they’d been loitering with their apprentice as well, before yowling back, saying as much. Wetfoot turned to back to the patrol and nodded, saying he didn’t particularly want to argue with cats who’d been hit with far too many branches to have any sense. Nightwhisper let out a purr and Rowanclaw shot one last glance back at the ThunderClan patrol, seeing them also moving on. 

The patrol was nearly over by the time something eventful happened, with a kittypet named Luna sniffing casually around the forest edge. Nightwhisper padded straight up to her, his tail flicking in amusement. The kittypet immediately bristled, hissing and assuming a natural fighting stance. Rowanclaw noted that it would still have been easier to take her own, though she seemed like she at least had the guts to put up a fight. Nightwhisper greets her calmly, telling her she’s crossed onto Clan territory. The molly seems puzzled, and Wetfoot, sensing she wanted to talk their ear off with questions, remarks that they don’t have time right now to teach her. Luna rolls her eyes, asking if they were gonna claw her ears off just for sniffing. 

Rowanclaw quickly interjects, stating they won’t drive her off unless she starts hunting, but warns that unless you know your way around the forest, it’s dangerous with the clans and predators like foxes. They don’t want to scare her, just inform her its safer with her housefolk. Luna sighs but agrees saying she just wanted to stretch her paws and run around a bit. She remarks if its this much trouble she doesn’t want it, having already been chased away from the farms by hostile clan cats. 

Luna turns and leaves and Wetfoot hisses that Rowanclaw was much too soft on the house cat, accusing them of being soft in general and not defending the territory. Nightwhisper hushes him, pointing out the the kittypet left willingly, so theres no real need to be hostile. 

Rowanclaw thanks Nightwhisper quietly on the way back, to which the ex-rogue replies they owe him, but to worry about it later. The gratitude turns to stones in their gut. 

[twilights-800-cats]

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Chapter 6

Dawn was brightening the sky by the time Russetstar led the way through the fern-and-rush tunnel into ShadowClan camp. Stoneheart’s shoulders did not feel lighter by the rays of the sun – he only felt sapped of energy, tired and hopeless as the Twoleg monsters roared to life in the distance. How could the meeting have gone so badly?

Russetstar wasted little time. She trotted across the camp - ignoring the curious mews from ShadowClan cats who clearly had a hard time sleeping – leaped up onto the Clanrock and raised her voice:

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey come beneath the Clanrock for a Clan meeting!”

Instantly, Stoneheart felt the mood in the camp shift from sleepy curiosity to alert worry. He made his way into the swiftly-forming crowd as his Clanmates took up their positions, shuffling and shivering together in the leaf-fall morning.

“How do you think it went?” wondered Pinewhisker to Nightwing, who was settling on her haunches beside him.

Nightwing’s whiskers twitched. “Not well, from the look on Russetstar’s face!”

Stoneheart swallowed. He felt Finchsong squeeze in beside him, pressing her pelt against his in the throng. “What happened?” the queen asked, her voice hushed in Stoneheart’s ear.

“You’ll hear about it,” Stoneheart murmured back. He felt drained, and wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep through this meeting. He didn’t know if he could take hearing of Leopardstar’s belligerent defiance again.

Russetstar certainly spared her Clan no preamble: “Last night, Blackfoot, Littlecloud, and I met with the leaders of the other three Clans to discuss how we ought to proceed. Unfortunately, only three of us were in agreement on the necessity of leaving the forest – Leopardstar was insistent that the Twolegs posed no threat to RiverClan, and refused to consider leaving.”

“Typical fish-head,” muttered Orre. “She’s always been difficult.” Many of the older warriors, cats who had known Leopardstar longest, nodded in agreement around the golden tom.

“Where does that leave us?” Oakfur wondered, raising his muzzle. “RiverClan might be closing their eyes to the issue, but the rest of us haven’t. Whether it’s to the lake or not, we cannot stay.”

Tallpoppy bristled, and she wasn’t the only one. Cedarheart raised his voice: “I still say that we needn’t leave forever – the Twolegs will find whatever it is they want and then be on their way.”

Stoneheart glowered at his Clanmate, who avoided his eye – or, perhaps, Cedarheart was avoiding his mate, who had already thrown in her lot to go to the lake. Finchsong made no move to counter Cedarheart, but she certainly didn’t move away from Stoneheart to go to his side.

“Either way,” Oakfur pointed out, “we need a plan for the meantime.”

“Agreed,” Russetstar meowed. “I plan to take the senior warriors to counsel in the training area. Oakfur, Cedarheart, Wolftooth, Blackfoot – all of you meet me there, and bring your ideas. We need a plan, and we need it before sunhigh.”

From within the crowd, Littlecloud rose up on his hind legs. “You intend to ignore StarClan?” he asked. “They chose Stoneheart and the others for a reason, that much has been made clear!”

Ripples of worried mews followed the medicine cat’s statement. Having him state outright that he believed that Stoneheart’s message came from StarClan made Stoneheart feel a little better, at least – it would certainly make the doubters and dissenters like Cedarheart and Tallpoppy look more unreasonable.

Russetstar herself, though, frowned. “I do not intend to ignore their message,” she replied, “but I cannot put aside that it was given to all four Clans – if we are not all in agreement, it may be possible that our destination, this lake, would not be open to us. Right now, I need to explore our options in what little time we have.”

Littlecloud sank, his brow furrowing. “I suppose,” he mumbled.

“Tallstar has already given up on his territory and moved in with ThunderClan,” Russetstar went on, turning to the rest of ShadowClan. “The uplands, he says, are barren of prey, and cannot support his Clan. ThunderClan has moved camp near the river. ShadowClan might be next – we need a plan for the now.”

Stoneheart sighed, looking up at his leader. She's assuming that we’re on our own, he thought grimly, as we always are.

Perhaps she’s right.

Russetstar raised her tail and ended the meeting. She leaped down into the crowd, while Blackfoot gathered the senior warriors she had called out around him. Swiftly, they made their way to the training area, dodging curious questions from their Clanmates.

“Incoming,” Finchsong warned.

Stoneheart blinked, confused, before he realized that Russetstar was approaching. The dark ginger she-cat stopped before him and jerked her head, indicating that he should follow.

Surprised, Stoneheart got to his paws. “What’s going on?” he wondered. “Aren’t you going to meet with the senior warriors?”

“I am,” Russetstar meowed, leading the way around the Clanrock. “We are.”

Stoneheart was shocked. “Me? What use am I? I already know where we’re meant to be.”

“I know.” Russetstar paused at the tree branch that bridged the stream between the camp and the training area. She nodded her head to the cats already clustered in the open space beyond. “You’ve far more experience than most with the world beyond our borders, though, and we need that.”

Stoneheart swallowed. She was right about that, at least. Russetstar padded over the branch, and Stoneheart followed. On the other side, he meowed, “Russetstar, there’s one more thing – about the cats that were taken...”

“Oh?” Russetstar turned to him, one paw still raised in a half-step.

“One of them was Tawnypelt,” Stoneheart reminded her.

“I know that.” Her tone was thin, impatient. Her tail twitched, and she glanced at the cats she had summoned. They were looking towards Russetstar and Stoneheart, eyes flickering with confusion at a conversation they couldn’t hear. “They’re all waiting, Stoneheart; get to the point.”

“Feathertail mentioned that if we somehow got Tawnypelt back, Leopardstar might reconsider,” Stoneheart explained. “If we can--”

Russetstar lifted her tail to interrupt him. “That's a big if, Stoneheart – we have no idea where our own missing cat is, or have you forgotten?”

“I haven’t.” Stoneheart felt his fur lift. How dare she think I’ve forgotten my own mate! “But Tawnypelt was taken by Twolegs, too – maybe she and Rowanclaw are together, wherever they, and the others, are?”

That idea seemed to give Russetstar pause, and she frowned. Then, she decided, “It’s worth considering; but we still don’t know where they might be, and it’s looking like we might not have the time to search. I agree that Tawnypelt might have been able to sway Leopardstar, but I still think we need to face what’s before us right now.”

Stoneheart opened his jaws to protest – Rowanclaw! The prophecy! - but he knew Russetstar would not hear of it right now.

Russetstar’s gaze on him softened. Stoneheart realized he must have been pulling a rebellious face, because she touched her nose to his ear and meowed, “If ever you are leader of this Clan, Stoneheart, you will come to learn just how difficult a job it is. You cannot please everyone and, sometimes, regrettably... you cannot save everyone.”

Stoneheart felt a lump in his throat, and he struggled to swallow around it. He hated that what she said made sense – putting himself in her paws was an overwhelming thought, though perhaps not as overwhelming as it had been before his journey to the lake.

Russetstar moved away, crossing the empty training clearing and settling down on her haunches beside Blackfoot. Glumly, Stoneheart followed, trying to keep his paws from dragging in the soft earth.

“Where are we, then?” Russetstar asked, curling her tail around her paws. Stoneheart settled down a pace away, ears forward to listen. “I want ideas.”

“There’s always Twolegplace,” Blackfoot pointed out. “We have plenty of cats who know the terrain, and it might be the best bet we have for a place to stay... or a place to wait out this madness.”

Wolftooth curled his lip, clearly offended by the notion. “It’s a worse idea than you think, Blackfoot – Twolegplace is where organization goes to die.”

Russetstar frowned at her warriors. “It is an option, though. And the only one we’ve got, unless someone else wants to chime in?” She looked to the rest of her small council, eyes flickering with interest.

“I say we just go to this lake without the other Clans,” Wolftooth grunted. The gray tom nodded at Stoneheart. “I believe him, and we’re likely to spend a long time searching for another suitable place.”

Stoneheart might have been warmed by Wolftooth’s approval, but Cedarheart was not a fan. He bristled, glaring at Stoneheart: “I still think this lake business is ridiculous! Why would StarClan send him, above all other cats they could have chosen?”

“It’s not like it was up to me,” Stoneheart grunted back, glaring across the group at Cedarheart. “I dreamed what I dreamed, saw what I saw, and did what I did – it was all for ShadowClan, whether you believe me or not. The lake is where we’re meant to be.”

“Where the four Clans are meant to be,” Russetstar reminded gently. “We aren’t all exactly in agreement on that, and who knows what that might mean for the prophecy?”

Oakfur put in, “Perhaps we could make our way to the lake on our own and try to find someplace else along the way? The lake might be made for the four Clans, but we likely won’t be four Clans when we leave.”

Stoneheart reeled. The idea of the four Clans that had stood together for as far back as anyone could recall splitting apart was unreal – but even Fourtrees clearly could not withstand the Twolegs. Perhaps that meant the four Clans weren’t meant to, either?

Then why send us at all? I cannot believe that the four Clans aren’t meant to be together, Stoneheart told himself. Even if it seems like they’re falling apart.

“It would be a risky journey,” Russetstar meowed, frowning. “We’ve got young, and old as well – but it may be necessary.”

“And Twolegplace?” Blackfoot wondered, raising his brow. He ignored Wolftooth’s snort of derision. “I think that, too, is still an option.”

“As do I,” Russetstar admitted.

“You can’t be serious!” Wolftooth hissed. His tail puffed. “I’m telling you, Russetstar – there's nothing there for us!”

“Agreed,” Stoneheart meowed. He got to his paws, shifting over to Wolftooth to stare squarely at his leader. Part of him felt a little foolish, taking a stand as the youngest warrior in the group, but he’d been invited here, same as them. “Russetstar, Twolegplace is the last place we should settle – especially after what the Twolegs are doing to us now!”

Russetstar blinked at him. “I don’t agree fully with the idea, but it is an option, and one we can explore right now – it may even bear some helpful fruit, Stoneheart. For all the Clans.”

The way she was staring at him made Stoneheart pause. Before he could ask what she meant, Russetstar got to her paws and announced: “Wolftooth, I want you and Stoneheart to explore the Twolegplace. Take another warrior with you – Pinewhisker has experience with Twoleg spaces as well.”

Wolftooth was bristling. “Do you have cotton in your ears, Russetstar? Haven’t you been listening?!”

“I’m wondering if you are listening to me,” Russetstar retorted coolly. “We have little time, and few options – ShadowClan is going to do what we can to explore what lies before us, preferably without uprooting our entire Clan before we must. So, Wolftooth, when can I expect your patrol to return?”

Wolftooth’s tail lashed, bristling as Oakfur, Cedarheart, and Blackfoot looked on with some measure of amusement in their eyes. Stoneheart would have purred, if he weren’t being sent with him – Russetstar certainly had a way of brooking no argument from her warriors.

“Before the half-moon.” Wolftooth deflated, still looking cross but clearly accepting Russetstar’s judgment.

“Good,” Russetstar decided. “Set out immediately. May StarClan watch over you.”

Wolftooth did not respond, stalking back towards camp with a lashing tail. Stoneheart gave Russetstar one more hopeful look, wondering if she intended to elaborate on what she thought was so useful about the Twolegplace – but her head was already bent down, talking quietly with her deputy and their remaining council about prey rationing.

“Stoneheart!” Wolftooth yowled, “Come on!”

Stoneheart jumped to his paws and hurried after Wolftooth, forgoing the tree-bridge entirely and splashing through the stream to meet him beside the Clanrock. He already had Pinewhisker beside him, attended by a worried-looking Nightwing.

“Be careful,” the black she-cat was saying. “The monsters... What if the Twolegs take you, too?”

That’s it! Stoneheart felt like a mouse-brain. Twolegs had taken Rowanclaw and Tawnypelt and the other Clan’s missing cats – Russetstar thinks we might find them in Twolegplace! Hope filled his chest, driving away his uncertainty and worries for the first time since he’d returned to the forest. Russetstar hadn’t dismissed his idea! The missing cats had to be there! Where else could they be – and if they weren’t there, there ought to be some clue as to their whereabouts.

“We can handle it,” Pinewhisker insisted. He looked as if he were still processing this mission, which he’d been suddenly chosen for.

Wolftooth grunted, “We’ll get some traveling herbs from Littlecloud and be off.” The big gray tom was already stalking off towards the medicine cat’s den, tail-tip twitching with annoyance. Pinewhisker followed, but Nightwing hung back with Stoneheart.

“Why can’t I come?” Nightwing wondered, staring after Pinewhisker.

“Russetstar wants us three,” Stoneheart told her sympathetically. Clearly, she had some fondness for Pinewhisker. “The fewer cats running around a Twolegplace, the better; trust me.”

Nightwing didn’t look entirely satisfied, but she turned away, heading for Tallpoppy and   Skipnose. Stoneheart split away, heading for Littlecloud’s den after Wolftooth. He thought of Rowanclaw, and it gave his steps purpose.

I’m coming, my heart, he thought. For you, and for all the Clans!

[tigerclawsremorse]

Chapter Thirteen

“He..did he.. could he actually have.. why would he..” Goldenflower stuttered, using Spottedleaf as a crutch to return to camp from the medic den. “It doesn’t make any since. How can you even stand to be around him?”

“I don’t know,” Spottedlead admitted, unsure of how to answer. “Tigerclaw came to me for help and I felt obligated, I guess. He’s my friend.”

“He killed your brother.”

“When he told me,” Spottedleaf began slowly, “he had this look in his eyes. I had never seen it before, not from him. I knew it wasn't an accident, but I also knew he could have never predicted what would happen afterwards. He was willing to give up everything to serve as a medicine cat, so how could I deny him?”

“You should have just told him no. What if news comes that he was the cause of other deaths? If he conspired to have Lionheart killed, I don't think I could maintain your empathy and composure.” Goldenflower concluded with a wheeze, “Everyday these pains are getting worse.”

“That means your kits are due soon.” The medic mewed, happy to change the subject.

“It means I can't move,” the queen panted, “give me a heartbeat to have them pass.”

“Oh yes,” Spottedleaf nodded, “You stay here and I’ll run ahead to prepare your nest extra soft, call if you need anything.”

Goldenflower stood for a couple of minutes, catching her breath and then losing it. She knew she wasn't ready yet, just some pregnancy pain, like what she had with her previous litter. After it had passed, she concluded it wasn’t anything serious.

“Spottedleaf was much too eager to leave my side,” Goldenflower said hushly to herself, continuing her slow journey to the nursery.

“I’m okay now,” Goldenflower peaked her head in, “passing pain,” she scanned the eerily still den and huffed in confusion, “She wasn’t that eager to get rid of me.”

From the gash in the wall shone two eyes that froze Goldenflower, the glaring ambers kept her paws latched to the ground where she stood, the figure was unseeable in the dark, “Tigerclaw?” She asked weakly.

The shadow did not respond and instead dashed out, a mewling noise accompanying them. With a deep and anxious breath she stepped into the den, in the corner opposite of the gash laid Speckletail, asleep despite the fact she was supposed to be on guard. Stepping around her, Goldenflower halted as blood pooled around her paws, still warm. “Spottedleaf?”

“Bluestar!” Goldenflower moved as quickly as she could to the leader’s den, her pregnancy seemed more and more like a curse. Summoned by the shouts of the worried queen, Whitestorm came down from highrock.

“Breath, Goldenflower, Bluestar is preoccupied currently, tell me what’s wrong?”

“I need to speak to her,” The queen demanded, the small scene had gathered the attention of the cats in camp.

Whitestorm with a nervous lash of his tail restated, “Tell me.” trying to avoid the watchful eyes of their clanmates.

“Whitestorm I cannot climb up there to talk to her myself and this is an urgent matter.”

“She’s speaking to Firepaw,” Whitestorm explained, hoping that would calm the queen slightly and prevent a clan uproar.

“The nursery--”

“My kits!” Frostfur barged into camp, her white fur standing on end and eyes wide with alarm, “Someone has taken my kits!”

Goldenflower flinched away as Whitestorm stood to give orders, “They must be in camp, warriors are to patrol the boundary and apprentices, check every den!” In a moment the camp was in a flurry in search of the missing kits, Goldenflower felt herself in shock even though she was well aware of the news.

Tigerclaw, left alone in the medicine cat den, began to organize the herbs. Spottedleaf had told him sometime back when she got stressed she would arrange and straighten up the herbs, it helped her feel like she had done something worthwhile instead of moping around. Down in the den alone, it was easy to understand what a solitude she must have always been in, he thought that was probably the real reason she helped him.

“This is chamomile,” He meowed to himself, “eases the mind and goes with the traveling herbs. I could probably use some.”

“And this is coltsfoot, no wait, these are dandelions.” Having the knowledge to be able to correct himself gave Tigerclaw a quick feeling of pride. Life as a medicine cat was what he needed, he decided.

There was no better time to decide, the tom told himself, his thoughts could not be any clearer. “Goldenflower, Bluestar... Thistleclaw, they’ll all understand.”

As he packed away the dandelions, he heard a yowl from beyond the tunnel, he whipped his head up to see and caught glances of the unusually active camp. Setting aside all the herbs, he scurred up the path to get an explanation.

“Yellowfang is gone!” Cried some cat buried in a camp wall bush.

“Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and taken my kits!” Screeched Frostfur.

“Killed Spottedleaf?” murmured Tigerclaw, suddenly unable to stand up.

The flurry of panic continued, emerging from the crowd came Longtail who nudged Tigerclaw. The brown tabby’s eyes were set on the other tom, but he could not be bothered to hear what he was rambling on about. Rather, he took to getting up on his wobbling legs and checking the nursery for himself.

The den was dark and rain droplets dripped down from where a sudden storm had brewed. Thunder crackled over head, accompanied by lightning that shone a brief light on the strew corpse of Spottedleaf.

“If Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and stolen Frostfur’s kits, she will be hunted down without mercy.” Bluestar’s voice echoed softly through the den’s walls. Tigerclaw couldn’t be bothered to focus on the rest, instead allowing her voice to become a soft droll of orders.

Mousefur stepped into the den, followed by Longtail, after a moment of shock, they dipped their heads and hurriedly carried Spottedleaf to the clearing. Again Longtail turned to say something, but this time remained silent.

Stranded alone, Tigerclaw bowed his head to her death site, preserving all the scents he could gather before the rain swept them away. “ShadowClan.. and….” he hesitated, in his grief and the thick scent of the nursery must deceive him. Darkstripe had no business in the nursery.

As he tracked along, making a strong and quick effort against the rain, he found his nose had not tried to fool him and the stench of ShadowClan was paired with Darkstripe. And the ThunderClan nursery which he supposed must have been the missing kits Frostfur wailed about.

His suspicion about the kits proved true as he smelt kitscent, and it seemed Frostfur’s theory rang true as well as the tom picked up on Yellowfang’s scent. Slowing his pace, he carefully approached a stump baring his fangs, but the elderly she-cat had already moved on. Confusingly, he also caught the scent of Firepaw, Graypaw, and Ravenpaw, but they were nowhere to be seen either.

In the mix of all the scents, the rain washing half of them away, Tigerclaw huffed and took a rest. He couldn’t even begin to think of what he was doing. Going to go save those kits? Going to go kill Yellowfang? His ears lowered to his head and he took a deep breath.

“Borage is to lower fevers, broom is to bend broken bones, burdock root is for rat bites, tansy is for,” his mind blanked and he looked to the clouded sky, “I don’t know that I can do this without you, Spottedleaf.”

“Tansy is for curing coughs.” Croaked an old voice, in his daze, Yellowfang had managed to make her way right in front of the tom. “Tigerclaw,” she continued, apparently having not having just shown up to help him with his herb knowledge, “I’ve seen a lot. You must get up and help us,” Behind her approached more ShadowClan cats, not fine warriors, Tigerclaw could tell, but some outcasts.

“A ThunderClan patrol approaches, I am innocent and so are you. So I urge you to come along.”

“Of course I’m innocent?” The tabby got to his paws, “What do you mean?”

“Maybe you were told your path would be simple, good or evil. I’m sorry to tell you that way is long and difficult and rumors linger yet. Your scent hung heavy on Spottedleaf and in the nursery.”

“Ridiculous,” He padded after the she-cat and her comrades, “I could never.”

“Never is a stretch, huh.” She spoke curiously, “I must go meet with the other ThunderClanners, Dawncloud will lead your way.”

After Yellowfang finished, she quickly headed off, leaving Tigerclaw and the ShadowClan queen. “Hurry along now,” The dark molly nodded, “There really is no time to waste.”

[sunnymoon-sunshine]

Yellowfang has always been one of my absolute favorite characters. It seems that I’m not in the minority when I say that, either - Yellowfang’s grumpy demeanor and her inner strength make her a likable character. Her bond with Fireheart, in which she takes on the role of a guide and parental figure of sorts is nearly as heartwarming as the friendship she forges with Cinderpelt after the latter’s accident.

So you can imagine my surprise and delight when I learned that Yellowfang was to get her own super edition, Yellowfang’s Secret, which would be a peek into Yellowfang’s life in ShadowClan before her exile. Finally! A book about Yellowfang herself! Surely it would be good... right?

About the moment I flipped to the page where it was revealed Yellowfang had her own secret power, my disappointment was as great and bitter as if I’d bitten into a lemon. It was at this point that OotS was winding down, and we’d been promised no more powers, and yet someone - be it author or editor, decided to bestow upon Yellowfang the most useless and needless power. The ability to feel when someone was hurt. Why.

I feel as if this introduction was made solely in an attempt to capture the attention of the reader in a loud and demanding way, while also easily and lazily patching the plot. Why did Yellowfang become a medicine cat? Why, of course - ! It’s because she has to! She can’t be a warrior if she’s feeling everyone elses’ pain. That would just be silly. It also perpetuates the trend of cats being forced into the role of medicine cat, which is incredibly frustrating.

Additionally, I’ll always dislike how Raggedstar was portrayed in this. For how he was talked about in Into the Wild, he was a decent leader for ShadowClan and at least somewhat well respected. The character butchering they performed on him is disappointing.

So, if I were to rewrite Yellowfang’s Secret, I would begin with a major overhaul of well... nearly everything. I’m not sure if I would start out in her kithood or not - seems redundant. We don’t need to know what her kithood is like.

Yellowfang is a newly made ShadowClan warrior with a lot of promise. Fast, sharp with teeth made for snapping tails, she quickly makes a name for herself in ShadowClan, and outside of it. She takes not an enthusiastic approach to this, but a more solemn - if she didn’t have such a temper, she’d likely be a future candidate for deputyship. Cedarstar is far wiser than to put his clan in her paws, however. Raggedpelt, who is just a slight bit older than Yellowfang herself, seems to have the most potential for the position, not as fierce but calmer, wiser.

And the clan is endlessly amused by him and Yellowfang, their constant back and forth quips and lighthearted snaps. It’s clear to everyone that only Raggedpelt can calm the raging Yellowfang. They make good friends, despite their occasional disagreements.

Yet the faintest whisper, like a breeze in the marsh, ruffles the fur of her ears. “You will carry a secret, Yellowfang,” Comes the whisper of one - or is it many? “A secret that will haunt you for the rest of your life.”

But for all her talent, Yellowfang grows weary of the blood on her paws. Every battle has the cries of cats echoing in her ears as they weep for their loved ones. And it sickens her that she perpetuates the cycle of endless war and death. Her temper is as sharp as her claws, but her empathy is far stronger than any ShadowClan cat could imagine. She feels like a warrior through and through, but looking into the eyes of a terrified WindClan cat as they’re cornered, as they look for escape from what they must see as certain death. His eyes are wide, and the scrappy black-and-white cat looks about as terrified as the prey she corners in the marsh. He looks barely old enough to be a warrior, and she feels not the stab of rage that WindClan dared step foot on her territory, but a sinking feeling in her heart. She almost wants to comfort him. Instead, she steps aside. She allows him to leave, and he shoots off immediately - but he pauses to glance back at her. “Go!” She barks, and he nearly jumps out of his fur, pelting off into the fray.

She nearly gets in trouble for her moment of mercy. ShadowClan is not known for their acts of kindness, a reputation that Cedarstar would like to keep. His voice is stern as he tells her to fight. “He went on to nearly tear the fur off Deerleap. Your duty is to listen to orders, Yellowfang, and that order is to fight until either you, or they, cannot fight any longer.”

Yellowfang feels frustration from the tips of her claws to the tip of her tail. Cedarstar had made a decent point, yet her frustrated and stubborn side would not yield. He did not look at that small, scrappy WindClan warrior and see what she saw - he was an enemy.

She saw nothing but a scared cat.

At the gathering, she sees him again. He’s among the WindClan cats, who generally are avoiding their ShadowClan neighbors during this full moon. It’s why she’s surprised when, during the leaders’ reports, she hears a hiss in her ear. It’s so soft she barely hears it, yet she’ll remember the words for years to come.

“Thank you.”

It’s also at this gathering that she learns of Hawkheart, a warrior turned medicine cat. This piques her interest - she didn’t even know that was an option.

As the days go on and life becomes harder as the snow sets in, Yellowfang is still ever the fierce warrior. Yet she harbors a secret wish - that she didn’t have to be. She goes and helps Sagewhisker during these times, something that Sagewhisker was initially reluctant to do - until she found Yellowfang’s potential as an assistant. Curt as she may be, she begins dabbling at teaching Yellowfang herbs when she can, though it seems Cedarstar is determined to keep her out of the medicine cat den and “Not waste time on herbs when there’s mouths to feed.”

“Grumpy old-” Sagewhisker used a few good curses that would have made Yellowfang cuff her ears. “Thinks that claws and teeth are the only useful things in this clan. No respect for this den!” She snaps a twig between her teeth to vent her frustration. “If his warriors would learn what a leaf would do, maybe I wouldn’t be so busy all the time! Maybe if he didn’t preach fight first, ask questions later, I’d have an apprentice at this point!”

Yellowfang pauses, claws working in the dirt. It feels as if she’s teetering on the edge of something, yet she doesn’t know what. As if this conversation is about to decide something important. “An apprentice?” Sagewhisker is in a mood, this much is clear. “Yes, an apprentice! StarClan knows, there have been a few good candidates, yet he always shoves them along the path of a warrior.” She shoves aside a pile of moss, tail flicking irritably. “Now look at me. Old and no apprentice. StarClan has a sick sense of humor.”

“I could be your apprentice.”

Yellowfang catches flack from her old warrior peers. It is the hardest part of the year, and she’s retreated to the medicine cat den, where she’s guaranteed a meal and no longer forced to hunt or patrol for the clan’s needs. It doesn’t stop her from hunting when she has the time, but Sagewhisker demands her attention at nearly all times of the day, giving her barely a chance to rest. It feels as if her new mentor is trying to bestow seasons of training onto her in a short couple of moons. That, and Raggedpelt seems shocked, hurt, and even heartbroken. It had never really occured to her that he might have taken a fancy to her, and it’s only now that she’s under a strict code that permits no such pleasure that she feels her fur grow warm when she sees him. The clan resents her, her leader is dismayed that one of his most fierce warriors has disappeared into the healer’s den, and cold frogs are the only thing anyone is bringing home. She takes the stringiest of them.

Yet as the season goes on, it quickly becomes apparent that Yellowfang has a natural talent for medicine. She’s got a sharp memory, quick to take action, and has fixed more wounds and illnesses in a moon than Sagewhisker could do in a season (though, no one would say that aloud, for fear of inciting Sagewhisker’s wrath). She proves to be just as useful an asset to ShadowClan as a medicine cat than she was as a warrior - if not more valuable now than she was before. The clan soon respects her talents, as do the other clans. Her and Hawkheart share a friendship based off of their mutual beginnings (and frustration over their “stupid, bloody useless warriors”).

Raggedpelt, now deputy, has taken to escorting her around the territory. “You never know when one of those kittypet rogues will jump out. I have to keep our medicine cat safe.”

“I could rip the fur off your shoulders before you could flinch.”

“Remind me to stop being nice to you.”

The two become close, and Yellowfang is head over paws for him. He’s the ideal warrior, strong and couragous and loyal to a fault. He doesn’t understand Yellowfang’s desire not to fight any longer, but he sees no problem with the two of them sneaking out at night. After all, there’s no harm in a little fun. The rule medicine cats have is ridiculous, anyway. She laps up his words, finding she wanted nothing more to believe him.

And then came the day she realized she was carrying kits.

Sagewhisker covers for her solely because she has no other apprentice she could train on such short notice. They tell no one, because Cedarstar would snatch Yellowfang from her position, ignoring any protest Sagewhisker might have. ShadowClan needs a medicine cat to carry on healing and communicating with StarClan, despite what “that old fool thinks.” Sagewhisker spits. But she’s furious with Yellowfang too. “I told you that you have to drop your warrior habits. I told you that you’re a medicine cat now, and to act like it. StarClan will punish you, Yellowfang. You mark my words.”

It doesn’t really occur to her what that punishment could possibly be, until she’s alone kitting on the outskirts of the marsh. No one could help her. Sagewhisker had to stay in camp - not that it was likely she would help regardless. It’s a long, grueling process, and in the end, it was nearly for naught. Two kits gone, only a small, sad scrap who fought to get at her belly and nurse. She wasn’t sure if he would make the trip back. But he did, hours later, and she felt a sense of unease as she placed the newborn kit by the belly of Lizardstripe, arguably the most unlikeable cat in the clan.

She wanted to walk with Raggedpelt. To receive some sort of comfort after her trial. But their relationship slowly faded, as each grew busier with their jobs. And it wasn’t as if he put much effort into seeing her either way. Yet she almost prefers it this way. It’s freeing, in a sense. She can go back to being a medicine cat first and foremost for the clan, watching from afar as he helps raise their child. And she never quite stopped admiring Raggedpelt for the fantastic warrior, deputy, and eventual leader he became. Calmer, cooler headed than Cedarstar, with just enough of a soft spot for Yellowfang to get away with a lot more than Sagewhisker was ever able to. It also helped that Yellowfang’s nasty temper never swayed - she would hold warriors back from the frontlines without hesitation if she felt they shouldn’t be out there, fool-headed leader or not.

Brokenkit grew into a fine apprentice, then warrior. Not the strongest at first, but he made up for it with his craft and skill. He was a smooth talker, able to weedle his way out of any punishment, and convince anyone of anything he wanted them to believe. She felt nothing but pride - and perhaps a flicker of worry. She had nightmares of a snake, bent at the tail end, hovering above her and waiting for her to strike. She tried her best to guide him. He ignored her - she was just a medicine cat, after all. Lizardstripe’s parenting left a lot to be desired, and Raggedpelt’s habit of spoiling him and ignoring his more worrying traits led Yellowfang to pace the den. It was something Sagewhisker would have yelled at her for, yet the den was empty. Sagewhisker had been buried under her favorite tree - a spiky, gnarled tree that was just as prickly as she was. It was her last request. “Make it a pain for them to bury me there, too.” She rasped to Yellowfang. “I want them to suffer for all the headaches they’ve given me.”

The silence in the den was deafening. For the first time in a long time, she felt alone. It was as if there was a chasim between her and the warriors, her and everyone else. The path of a medicine cat was a lonely, drawn out path, she finds. Even when she walks with Raggedpelt to the moonstone, even when they laugh and joke and prod each other just like old times, it still feels as if there’s a barrier between them.

He’s long grown out of his love for Yellowfang. She still holds a sort of affection for him, warm - yet not quite romantic. A healthy respect, and admiration, yet she feels comfortable where she is without him as her mate. She cheers him on as he gains his nine lives, and they walk out of the Moonstone together with a new hope for the future of ShadowClan.

That lasts until his first deputy passes. Raggedstar, the old fool, overlooks all the other potential leaders - the hardworking Nightpelt, most insultingly of all - for his son, who had barely finished training an apprentice. He claims the timing of it all is a sign from StarClan that his son has earned the position. Yellowfang uses a few choice curses she learned from Sagewhisker when she discusses it with him later.

“Fiddle-headed fool,” She spats, the nicest thing she’s said to him that night. “Flea-bitten idiotic puddle of marsh water. Your son isn’t a leader. He’s barely a warrior, with a fool for a father.”

“He’s earned his position.” Raggedstar argues, though he’s backed against the far end of his den. Yellowfang, though a medicine cat, is still one of the most intimidating felines of the forest. “Foxheart’s passed, and he’s just finished training an apprentice.”

“Giving a warrior an apprentice is supposed to gauge if they’re ready to be deputy, not give them a free pass for the position!” Yellowfang spits. “Just look at what happened. Clawface is just as much of a fool as you. He’s a disaster. Bloodthirsty, battle-hungry. It’s a fight to keep his claws on this side of the border.”

“It’s not Brokentail’s fault how Clawface turned out. He was naturally headed in that direction. He did his best, and I’m sure his next apprentice will do better.” Raggedstar stands up straight, and marches over to her. He shoves his muzzle in her face, and whispers as quiet as a mouse’s breath, “Don’t you trust our son?”

Yellowfang takes a deep breath to steady herself, before shoving her muzzle back in his face. “No more than I trust a rat in the carrion place.”

When she leaves the den, Brokentail is sitting just outside. They make eye contact, and she realizes that he caught most of the conversation. For a horrible moment, she fears he heard Raggedstar’s words. But no, there was no confusion or hurt or any other feelings she would assume a cat finding out his true parentage would feel. Instead, there’s something cold in the pit of those amber eyes. It fills her with a sense of unease.

Yellowfang is sure she’s made an enemy of her son.

Moons go by, and it’s clear Brokentail is hungry for battle and territory. Raggedstar has a difficult time telling him no, however Yellowfang was quick to fill in the gaps. It was, in some strange, twisted way, as if they were a family. Yet Brokentail dragged them into skirmishes, started battles, lost them warriors and lost Raggedstar lives.

“You only have one life,” Raggedstar comments to his son, limping along. He’d sacrificed himself to save the idiot boy. “You ought not to be so foolish.”

Moons later, it was proven that even nine lives does not equal to eternity. Raggedstar was found in pieces, and Yellowfang could do nothing but mourn. He as a fine cat, a great warrior and a good leader for ShadowClan.

Her period of mourning was cut short when Brokentail received his nine lives, and proceeded to drive ShadowClan into the ground. She spoke out, yet it felt like her voice was the only one raised. The rest of the clan, raised on a diet of battles and violence, seemed to agree with him at first. And then, once kits were being sent out to war, unable to find their voices. It was for the greater good, after all. They drove out WindClan, after all, and got all this territory for their children. Their children, who Yellowfang pointed out with bitterness in her voice, who lay scattered and dead in WindClan camp.

She didn’t save Tallstar all those years ago, only to have him driven out of his own camp. She argued, fought, spat at Brokenstar, unwilling to let him continue any longer without fierce opposition.

“You never liked me, did you?” He interrupted her during one of her tirades.

She pauses, her mouth open. Then she shuts it. She closes her eyes, and sinks her claws into the ground, and chews on her words before she speaks them. “I did.”

“Old fool.”

She should have seen it coming. She should have realized he’d make sure she couldn’t oppose him any more.

She didn’t realize he would drive her not only from her position, but from her clan.

They had to have known that she didn’t kill those kits. Yet no one said a word, too afraid of the rogues in camp, too afraid of Brokenstar’s wrath. Too afraid of the ShadowClan they’d allowed to flourish under Brokenstar’s rule. She fled for her life, across the thunderpath where they would not follow her, into territory she’d barely ever stepped foot in. Into ThunderClan territory. Where she would meet a determined young apprentice, foolhardy enough to give her food. Who would grow into the finest warrior she’d ever seen. Even better than Raggedstar himself. A cat she could be proud to know.

StarClan was wrong. However hard her secret tried to follow her, it could not haunt her forever. As Fireheart stood over her, warmer than even the fire around her, she hurt from pride. She would have loved for him to have been her son, but this is how things were. He listened to her secret, and if he cast judgement, it did not reflect on his expression, which never shifted from panic. He would miss her. She would miss him.

But her secret was out, after all this time. And now she truly felt peace.

Judge me as you will, StarClan.

[oldwarriors-fireandwater]

Chapter Five

Sandwhisker awoke to the sounds of argument. She stirred in her nest and lifted her head as she tried to wake herself properly. She couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, but many cats were talking loudly, and some sounded angry.

She quickly shook off sleep and hurried out of the nest. What in Silverpelt’s name is going on? Sandwhisker ducked out of the warriors’ den and stopped to take in what was happening.

Thistlestar and Tigerclaw were sitting beside the Highrock. Darkstripe was with them, baring his teeth at Redtail, one of Sandwhisker’s fathers. Stonefur was glaring at Darkstripe from beside Redtail. Other cats were clustered around, but it seemed the main commotion was from those five.

“That’s just wrong!” Redtail snapped. “How would we even hold that territory?”

“Shut up and listen to your leader!” Darkstripe spat. He lifted a paw, claws unsheathed.

Sandwhisker tensed. She may have just gotten out of her nest, but Darkstripe would feel her claws if he tried to attack Redtail.

Tigerclaw steadied his old apprentice. “Steady, Darkstripe,” he grunted. “Save your claws for a real battle.”

Darkstripe withered under Tigerstar’s stare. “Yes, Tigerclaw.”

“Enough of this,” Thistlestar snapped. “I’m making the announcement.”

What’s happening? Sandstorm wondered. She watched as Thistlestar leaped up to the top of the Highrock and let out a yowl.

“All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!”

The formality was mostly unneeded, as there were very few cats who hadn’t come running out to witness the dispute. Thistlestar sat down and waited for the Clan to settle.

Sandwhisker hurried through the cats to get to Redtail. “What’s going on?” she demanded.

Redtail’s tail whipped about furiously. “You’ll see,” he spat.

Sandwhisker frowned and sat down beside him. Her other father, Birchfoot, quickly padded up to them and joined them. He didn’t have a chance to say anything before Thistlestar began the meeting.

“It has been too long since ThunderClan has seen a proper battle,” Thistlestar growled. “Our claws are growing dull and our enemies think us to be weak.” He lifted his chin. “Russetstar will think that she can start to take our territory. She will be bold in her early leadership, and I will not be fooled by her guise of peace. ThunderClan will strike the first blow to ensure that she does not get any ideas about ThunderClan and weakness.”

Redtail curled his lip, and Sandwhisker narrowed her eyes. What is he talking about? she thought. That’s ridiculous! We have no reason to attack ShadowClan. It’s RiverClan that has our territory!

“ShadowClan are fools for thinking we are weak!” screeched Addertail. His long tail lashed as he lifted his gaze towards Thistlestar.

“We’ll sharpen our claws on ShadowClan hides!” shouted Dustpelt.

Sandwhisker shot him a glare over her shoulder. Is he really so mouse-brained that he thinks this is a good idea?

She and Redtail weren’t alone in their displeasure. Mistyfoot stood up, brows furrowing. “Why are we attacking ShadowClan?” she asked. Though frustration edged her meow, her voice remained steady. “They’ve done nothing to us.”

“Yeah,” Willowpelt agreed. “I hardly see why Russetstar wanting peace should warrant violence.”

“You are fools if you think she really wants peace,” Thistlestar spat. “It’s a trick, and we will not fall for it.” He glanced down at Tigerclaw. “Call out the patrols, Tigerclaw.”

Tigerclaw stepped forward, head held high. “Whiteclaw, Darkstripe, Sandwhisker, Addertail, Dustpelt, Mousefur, and Swiftpaw will be in my patrol.”

Sandwhisker blinked. Addertail flicked his tail across Swiftpaw’s shoulder, and the apprentice lifted his chin proudly. This would be the young tom’s first battle. Dustpelt nodded firmly.

“The second patrol,” Tigerclaw said. “Will have Redtail, Stonefur, and Willowpelt.”

Sandwhisker narrowed her eyes. Aside from Bluefur, they’re all some of Thistlestar’s loudest critics. Is he planning something, or is it just a coincidence?

“Why such a small patrol?” Frostfur asked. The queen, another one of the few cats who felt bold enough to question Thistlestar, looked as suspicious as Sandwhisker felt.

“It’s simple, really,” Tigerclaw smoothly explained. “The smaller patrol will cross the road visibly, once a ShadowClan patrol is in the area. They will be focused on the patrol, and believe it will be an easy battle. However…” his eyes glittered dangerously. “I’ve been sending patrols to investigate the area around the road. There’s a tunnel under the road that goes directly into ShadowClan territory. While the small patrol distracts them, the rest of us will be waiting…” His claws unsheathed. “And then, when the battle begins, we will strike from the other side, and drive them into the road.”

Sandwhisker smoothed her pelt. I suppose that makes sense, she thought, before she shook her head. But… still! There’s no reason for this battle, especially one with such drastic measures. ShadowClan has hardly recovered from losing so many warriors.

“Those of you who will be in the battle, be ready,” Thistlestar ordered. “We will leave near dusk.”

---

Sandwhisker crouched in the dark tunnel. The ground above her trembled as monsters raced by. Her heart was beating wildly—she feared no battle, but she would be a fool if the rumbling ground and presence of monsters didn’t unnerve her. She wasn’t alone in her discomfort—Mousefur was shifting about anxiously beside her, while Swiftpaw’s tail was flicking about.

“Can’t be much longer,” Tigerclaw grunted. “I see a patrol moving around. Our patrol should cross soon.”

Sure enough, a shout came only moments later. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” It was a ShadowClan cat.

“What does it look like?” Willowpelt replied. “We’re out for a stroll.”

‘Stroll’ was the signal.

Tigerclaw let out a mighty yowl as he leaped out from the tunnel. “ThunderClan, to me!”

The patrol poured out of the tunnel. Sandwhisker raced out, just a step behind Mousefur. She whirled around to face the ShadowClan patrol, which was standing just on the edge of the road. Redtail, Willowpelt, and Stonefur had all crossed the road and were attacking the ShadowClan patrol. There were only four cats in all—a terrible number compared to the cats Tigerclaw had brought.

One cat, a gray tabby, turned in time to see Tigerclaw leading the patrol out of the tunnel and towards them. “It’s a trap!” he yowled.

Swiftpaw and Addertail leaped for a ShadowClan tortoiseshell. She shrieked as Swiftpaw’s claws ripped through her cheek. “Oakpaw!” she cried. “Get help!”

Tigerclaw was facing off with an older gray tom, who Sandwhisker recognized as a warrior named Flintfang. The ThunderClan deputy stiffened as he heard the tortoiseshell’s order. “Stop him!” he yowled.

Sandwhisker was the farthest from the battle. There was simply no room to attack with so many of her Clanmates surrounding the three warriors. She blinked as she saw a small brown tom race past her. That must be Oakpaw! She turned and hesitated as she saw him take off into the pine woods. This is all wrong, she thought, swallowing. But an order is an order.

Sandwhisker took off after the apprentice. The ground was damp, and it quickly became difficult to keep her footing without slipping. She slowed down to catch her breath. It’s pointless, she thought. I’ll never catch up to—

“Attack!”

Fox-dung! It seemed the nearest ShadowClan patrol was much closer than Sandwhisker anticipated. She heard crashing through the ferns, headed straight for her. She turned around and raced back towards the road.

“Reinforcements coming!” she yowled. “Another patrol on the way!”

Sandwhisker reached the side of the road. The remaining three ShadowClan cats were being backed dangerously close to the road. They’ll be run over!

To their luck, however, the coming patrol soon burst through the undergrowth. It was still a small patrol—only three warriors in all—but there was no sign of Oakpaw.

He must have kept going for camp. Sandwhisker turned to face the fresh warriors and braced herself as one leaped right for her.

“Fox-hearts!” spat her attacker. “We’ve done nothing to you!”

Sandwhisker said nothing as she rolled aside to dodge a blow from him. There was nothing for her to say—he was right, and she knew it. She lashed out and caught him across the jaw. The tom stumbled back, shaking his head.

“Enough!” Tigerclaw yowled. “We’ve shown them our strength. Let us return home!”

Sandwhisker turned in time to see Tigerclaw swipe at an apprentice that was in his way of retreat. The black apprentice yelled as he was bowled over by the force of his blow—right into the path of an oncoming monster.

Stonefur’s eyes widened. “No!” he shrieked. The gray warrior darted forward and sank his teeth into the apprentice’s scruff.

He wasn’t fast enough.

Sandwhisker snapped her eyes shut as the monster collided with them. A sickening, hollow thump could be heard by all. When she opened her eyes again, both the apprentice and Stonefur lay still on the road. “Oh, StarClan, no…”

A ShadowClan molly let out a horrified shriek. “Antpaw!” she wailed. She raced through the throng of ThunderClan cats and hauled him free of the road. “Wake up!”

Sandwhisker felt sick. The young apprentice’s eyes were still half-open, and they were dull. Her gaze travelled to Stonefur. The once-mighty warrior had been crushed by the paws of the monster. His ribs had been completely crushed, and his shoulders jutted out at awkward angles.

Oh, Stonefur… Mistyfoot and Mosstail are going be horrified. Sandwhisker looked away. And poor Bluefur! She isn’t even here. This was a stupid, pointless battle!

---

The body of Stonefur was carried back to camp by Whiteclaw and Redtail. Whiteclaw especially looked sad—he and his cousin had been close. When they made it back to camp and laid his body in the center of camp, Mosstail let out a wail.

“Stonefur!” she cried. The tabby warrior raced to his side. “What in StarClan’s name happened to him?”

Whiteclaw pressed against her. “He was crushed by a monster,” he murmured. “Trying to save a ShadowClan apprentice.”

Mistyfoot crept towards his body, eyes dark with despair. “You mouse-brain!” she cursed. “Couldn’t you stop being a hero for once?”

The Clan gathered around Stonefur’s body, whispering and muttering among themselves. When Thistlestar approached, a few cats moved aside for him to look.

“Tragic,” Thistlestar commented, voice devoid of much emotion. “He died a warrior’s death. StarClan will welcome him.”

“No, he didn’t!” Willowpelt spat. “He was killed stupidly while he tried to save an apprentice from being run over.”

“He was very brave,” Thistlestar meowed. “We will mourn him tonight.”

Whiteclaw lifted his gaze. “Father,” he meowed. “Will there be more battles?”

Thistlestar glanced at his son. “I don’t know yet,” he grunted. “But once Ravenpaw finishes his training, we will take back Sunningrocks.”

Whiteclaw sat up. “Well, I won’t be joining in any more battles for some time.” He curled his tail around himself. “I’m moving into the nursery.”

Sandwhisker glanced over at Whiteclaw, surprised. He’s expecting? The tom was popular in the Clan, but there wasn’t anyone that he seemed to have taken as a mate.

Thistlestar raised a brow. “Is that so?” He flicked his tail. “Very well.”

Sandwhisker resisted the urge to curl her lip. You’d think he’d be a little more moved by the news! She hoped that her own fathers would show a bit more emotion if she ever announced she was having kits.

“Congratulations,” Mosstail murmured, though her voice was hollow. The Clan whispered to him softly. Though it was good news for ThunderClan, there was little joy to bring from it when a strong warrior had been so easily slain.

Sandwhisker moved closer to Stonefur’s body and quickly pressed her nose to his shoulder. I’m sorry, Stonefur. This battle should have never happened.