Template:Catastrophe

 Oh, catastrophe, leave me to fade out the light... ...and uncage the night.

Most stories begin with a birth or a death. The birth of a hero, or the birth of a villain. The death of a character who has some significance later in the story. And the end of most stories has either a death or a birth.

Stories in general revolve around birth and death. Joy and grief. Passing and renewal. It's what life is. A constant cycle. Everything that is born dies. Their story ends. Or someone else's begins.

It's all a part of life.

My story, however, begins with both life and death. I was born the night that FrostClan's leader killed DustClan's during a Gathering. Unprovoked. One moment, Gorsestar was speaking, reporting that a queen had been in labor when they left and a new litter of kits would be expected when they returned. The next moment, Sagestar pounced, and Gorsestar was dead.

I wasn't even born yet when it happened, but I know that the moment Gorsestar's body hit the ground was the marking of the end of the Clans. That was the moment they turned into armies. Sure, the four Clans still bore their names - FrostClan, DustClan, MistClan, and RainClan - but the warrior code was lost. I was never raised with it.

Before the fateful night of my birth, warriors were raised in honor. To defend and protect their Clan with dignity, guard their borders fairly, always look to their ancestors in times of need. A way of life. The warrior code to guide their paws in the right direction.

Now, in my generation, warriors are soldiers. Nothing more. Cats that are trained to kill and destroy. Once they've been taught all they can be taught, they are sent to the war zones - what used to be borders. Now just places between territories where cats kill each other to prove a point.

It's been four years since I was born. Four years since this crime called war began. Do I think there will ever be a time that the war ends? I don't know. I don't think the Clans are fighting to win anymore. I think they're just fighting to kill.

Each Clan has receded farther into their territory. There are no distinct borders anymore, just the war zones that are so wide you can't accidentally cross over one into the other Clan's territory. Most cats avoid the war zones if they haven't been drafted to fight. Sometimes a group of soldiers will invade another Clan's territory for a surprise attack on the camp, killing future soldiers and innocents, but other than that we mostly stay clear of other territories.

I'm not saying I refuse to fight. I don't believe in the war, but I'll do what it takes to protect my Clan. I've killed other soldiers before. I've sustained my share of battle wounds.

But it's disastrous. The amount of lives lost for no purpose. It's a noble death, defending your Clanmates - but what's the point when there's no reason they should need defending?

Clan populations have grown larger since the Declaration night, as it's called now. The night war was declared. The night I was born. She-cats aren't forced to birth multiple litters of kits, but they do anyway, playing their part to keep the Clan in constant population of future soldiers.

There are about thirty soldiers - warriors - at any given time in a Clan. Not including she-cats who have taken a leave of absence to bear kits. Not counting the dozen or so young cats being trained to kill, and will become soldiers one day. Not counting those who are too injured to fight and will be put on bedrest in the medicine den until they are healed enough to fight. Not counting the ten or so mentors who will fight if numbers get too low but have a main duty in training apprentices.

We lose cats at a steady pace. If one dies, a few days later an apprentice is ready to receive their soldier name and become a potential troop. It all works out. Sometimes we'll be hit with a wave of enemy soldiers, and we'll lose too many cats at a time, so our numbers will be low. In that the apprentices are trained harder and faster so they can receive their names sooner and be sent out to the war zones faster.

Everycat has lost someone important to them at some point. I've lost ones that I loved. My mother died before I became a soldier. Her neck was broken. I lost my twin sister a few moons ago. Her belly was torn open and she died fighting. My best friend Fernflower was killed when we'd been soldiers for a few moons. One moment she was fighting beside me on our first draft, the next her body was falling onto me. I thought she'd just lost her balance. But her throat was ripped apart and her eyes were clouded over.

Death is a constant companion. You treat every goodbye to someone you love like it's the last moment you'll ever see them - because it just might be. I've seen many cats get into a fight, the other going off to their draft in a huff, and they only return to the Clan by other cats carrying in the dead body. It's a sad sight, to see the other cat staring numb at their friend's body, wishing they could take back every word they said.

But you can't. You never can. I let my sister Eveningflower leave for draft one day, and she knew I was irritated at her, because we were hunting earlier in the day and she was being noisy, scaring all the prey away. I let her leave with her knowing I was angry with her. And that was the day her body was the one dragged back to camp.

It is my biggest regret in life. But you have to move on from it eventually. There's no room for grief in the life of a soldier. You move on, you control your feelings. Because there's nothing else you can do. Nothing but survive.

My name is Coldfrost. This is my story. A story that began with life and death. A story that ends with...well, you'll just have to see how it ends.

Chapter One

Silence is a treasure not often received by Clan cats. The soundtrack of the dying is a constant companion in the forests. The sceeches and wails and screams of those losing their lives at the war zones. When I was a young apprentice, and was first let out into the forest for training, I was disturbed by it. The soldiers seemed so unfazed when a particularly loud shriek arose, making me nearly jump out of my fur. I wished I could've turned my ears off, anything to block out the sounds of death.

Now, I'm practically immune to it. It's just background noise to me now, like the song of birds or the wind stirring the branches over my head. Birds and wind and death.

But for now, it was nearly silent. I should've been thankful for it, but it unnerved me. I was hunting, far enough into the territory that I couldn't hear the war zones at all. I longed for the raucous noise of the north end of the territory, but there wasn't much prey to be caught there. We had to retreat even farther away from the camp to find suitable hunting grounds. And I couldn't return to camp without something to show for it; I'd been gone since dawn and it was nearly sunhigh, and I had only caught a single mouse, otherwise too wrapped up in my own thoughts to pay attention to prey.

I parted my jaws, searching for a trace of a scent trail to follow. The faintest whiff of squirrel drifted across my tongue, and I dropped into a crouch, shutting down my mind to focus on the chase. I moved forward slowly, feeling my muscles slide and roll smoothly under my pelt, my body well-rested and healed since the beating I had taken at my last draft.

I was so focused on the scent that the very sudden snap of a stick behind me scared me half to death. I jumped a tail length in the air before whipping around in a battle-ready crouch, tail lashing, claws out, and guttural snarl ripping free of my throat. That was one thing my mentor had taught me when I was being trained to be a soldier - fear is your biggest weapon. If you're not the quickest or the strongest or you just think your enemy could beat you, you make them affraid of you. In the heat of the battle at the war zones, looking deadly and ferocious could save your life. If you have a murderous look in your eyes and your growl like a lion with your claws at the ready, and you plant a seed of uncertainty or fear in your opponent, you've already won half the battle.

But it wasn't necessary in this case. It wasn't some enemy spy crawling through our forests.

"Oh, it's you," I grumbled, sitting up and flicking my ears to try to hide my embarrassment. Fallenrose rolled her eyes as she pushed her way through the bush to plop onto the ground beside me.

"Wolfstar wants you back at camp," she grumbled, licking one dappled paw to clean her muzzle as she spoke. "She said you've been out hunting way too long and she needs to talk to you about something." I sighed, averting my eyes from Fallenrose's. This beautiful she-cat confused me in ways I couldn't understand. She was tough as stone, we all had to be, but she pushed every cat away and never let anyone get close to her. She was stubborn and cruel and grumpy and yet I couldn't get enough of her. I was as close to being friends with her as she would allow. She spoke to me with much less fire in her words as any other cats, she sat near me during meetings and shared prey with me on occassion though she didn't always speak, and her nest was closest to mine in the den we shared with some other soldiers.

"I've only caught a mouse," I mumbled, glancing longingly in the direction that the squirrel scent had been. Fallenrose smirked at me and disappeared behind the bush she had emerged from, reappearing a moment later with a large thrush and two shrews in her jaws which she dropped at my paws.

"I suspected you'd be daydreaming too much to hunt. So I grabbed this on my way over."

"You're a lifesaver, Fallenrose," I purred, scooping up the prey in my jaws and flicking my tail over her ear playfully. She twitched away from me with a cross huff but didn't claw my tail like she would've anyone else.

I led the way back towards camp, silently motioning with my tail when we placed the spot where I had burried my mouse from earlier. Fallenrose unearthed it swiftly to carry it back.

Our camp was practically a fortress. Indestructable. Walls of thorny brambles that were as tall as two cats with absolutely no gaps to squeeze through formed a rough circle in a clearing in the middle of a few trees. The entrance was a very narrow gap in the thorn barriers, and at night we moved another thick wall in front of it from the inside of the camp. Impenetrable.

The entrance was open for now, though there was a soldier on guard positioned directly in front of it. A tabby she-cat named Hollywhisker. She dropped a nod in my direction as way of greeting, her body taught with tension that guards always had. Her eyes continuously scanned the surrounding area for signs of attack, her claws unsheathed and gripping the soil. Hollywhisker stepped aside to let me through, my shoulders scraping the walls of the barrier and my ears layed flat to avoid hitting them on the arch above my head, and then stepped back into place once Fallenrose was through as well.

The camp inside was also set up for defense in case of an attack. The dens were all thick and impossible to get through, and they all had moveable thorn walls to go over the entrances at night like the front entrance. The prey store was a large hollow carved out at the side of the camp, and it was well-stocked when I went over to deposit my share. I was just turning to ask Fallenrose where Wolfstar was when a solid furry shape slammed into my flank and knocked me onto my back.

"Hiya, Coldfrost!" I snorted and battered gently at Frozenpaw's belly with my forepaws, using my hind to shove him off of me.

"You're getting too big to be barreling into me like that," I grumbled at my nephew, giving him a friendly lick of greeting between the ears. He dashed around my legs with his fluffy gray fur spiked out, his green eyes bright.

"Almost as big as you," he challenged, stretching up to measure against me properly. The tips of his ears just barely brushed under my muzzle. I purred and nuzzled his head. While his fur colors and patterns resembled mine more than his mother's, his eyes were all Eveningflower. My sister's death had broken my heart, but to her only son it had devastated him. He was still in the nursery when she died during draft, old enough to not need his mother's milk but young enough to still need the warmth and comfort of her pelt as he slept.

He had been stuck in a bad depression for a moon, definitely not healthy for his young age. He wouldn't eat and woke crying out every night for the mother that he couldn't have. His foster mother and siblings helped him enough that he started eating again and eventually transformed back into the energetic young tom he had been before the loss of Eveningflower, though I still saw the dark ghost of sadness in his eyes, so much like hers, when an old memory resurfaced.

Now an apprentice and not needing the care of a foster mother, he still considered them his family. Tanglepaw and Mintpaw were the siblings that Eveningflower had never provided him with, and Hailfeather was every bit as much of a mother as she had been.

I jumped when a paw jabbed into my flank and met Fallenrose's dark glare.

"I told you Wolfstar wanted to talk to you," she growled, and I rolled my eyes, giving Frozenpaw a lick on the ear before heading towards the leader's den.

Wolfstar's den was set behind a wide, tall boulder at the back of the camp with a thick wall of thorny brambles surrounding it; the rock served as an extra defensive measure. I called a greeting at the entrance and hunched my shoulders to fit them through the gap in the thorns next to the rock.

Basing it off of appearances, you would never guess Wolfstar would be the leader of MistClan. She was tiny, barely bigger than an apprentice, and her thick white fur was as downy as a kit's. But she was the fiercest, most dedicated cat I had ever known. She was vicious and determined. Strong enough to take down a cat three times her size. I'd seen it in action multiple times. Wolfstar had only been leader for about five moons, when her predecessor had retired to the elder's den. Leaders never went on draft, but when she was a soldier I had seen her fight multiple times. She killed more soldiers at the war zones than any other cat in MistClan. She was deadly.

She was curled up on the sandy floor of the den, her foreleg stretched out as she rasped her tongue over her glossy fur trying to smooth the fluffiness, which was wild and out of control most of the time, making her look like an excited kit. Her blue eyes appraised me expressionlessly as I sat in front of her and curled my tail over my paws.

"You wanted to see me?"

She sat up slowly, mirroring my stance with her tail over her paws, and stared thoughtfully at some point above my head for a moment before speaking.

"I have an offer for you, Coldfrost." I didn't speak, trying to prevent my whiskers from flicking in curiousity. She was silent for a long moment and I felt my pelt start to itch with the suspense. Wolfstar and I had been decent friends when we were soldiers together, but when the last deputy was killed and she was given the position, she became so busy organizing drafts that we didn't speak much. There was a time I may have considered having kits with her. But there was no way I was good enough to be mates with the leader.

"What is it?" I asked eventually when she didn't speak. Wolfstar sighed, finally meeting my gaze. She looked almost regretful. A spike of fear threatened to rise in my stomach but I swallowed it down as she opened her jaws and spoke.

"I want you to replace Stoneleap as my deputy."

Chapter Two

"What?" The word should have come out surprised, but instead it came out a hoarse, quiet squeak. I cleared my throat in embarrassment before repeating the question. "What?" Wolfstar appraised me with an unidentifiable expression in her eyes for a long moment before speaking, like she was carefully thinking out each word before she spoke.

"I've been thinking about this for nearly a moon. Stoneleap is a good, loyal cat, and he's been a good deputy. But he's been making too many unforgiveable errors lately. Remember that patrol that he sent out to hunt a few weeks ago too close to the war zone? Three of the four soldiers were slaughtered. And the drafts he's been sending out are weaker. We're losing more cats. You have a clear, level head, and you're very smart. I've seen the kind of plans you can come up with. They're brilliant. I know I can count on you to get the apprentices trained faster and more efficiently and save more soldiers' lives during the drafts. Stoneleap? He had that ability when I gave him the position. Not so much anymore." She sat back on her haunches while gazing at me, waiting for my reaction.

I was tongue-tied. I had no idea what to say. Never in my lifetime had I ever expected to make deputy. I knew I was a loyal soldier, but was I smart and brave enough to guide the Clan through the drafts and eventually lead them if I survived to be leader? I wasn't sure.

"I don't know what to say," I stammered, and she twitched her whiskers in amusement.

"You don't have to make up your mind now. Think about it for a few days. If you decide to accept I'll talk to Stoneleap about it. I truly believe you can do so much good for this Clan, Coldfrost." Wolfstar twitched her tail in dismissal, and I dropped a quick bow before ducking out of the den, scratching my shoulders on a thorn in my haste.

Fallenrose was sitting near the middle of the camp, gulping down a mouse while Frozenpaw chatted her ear off, though she didn't seem to be paying much attention. As I approached them, I nudged my nephew's flank, cutting off whatever endless story he'd been in the process of telling Fallenrose.

"Why don't you go practice battle moves with your sister?" I suggested, jerking my head to motion where Mintpaw was tumbling around by herself near the apprentices' den, trying to get an attack move right but struggling without a cat to practice with. Her prety gray pelt was matted with dust and sand.

"Okay!" Without another word Frozenpaw hurtled off towards her, just a fluffy gray and white blur. I sank onto the ground next to Fallenrose, snorting under my breath. She finished off her meal and layed back on her flank, rasping her tongue over her tortoiseshell fur. Neither of us spoke, her busy with her grooming, me lost in thought over the decision lurking on the horizon - do I take Stoneleap's position?

"He's better off than most, you know," she said after a moment, startling me out of my reverie. For a minute, I thought she'd somehow read my thoughts and was referring to Stoneleap, but then I saw her nod her head towards Frozenpaw, who had quickly given up on the battle move and was now just wrestling with Mintpaw, whose squeals could be heard even from this far away.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's still got fire. Most apprentices - actually, most cats in the Clans in general - are somber. The war affects them. Cats aren't exactly happy and cheery and wanting to play all the time like he does. Even with Eveningflower gone. I know you worry about him, but he's going to be fine." I grunted; I did worry about Frozenpaw, but he was the last thing on my mind right now.

"Why's your head in the clouds so much today, mouse-brain?" Fallenrose's tail flicked over my ear and I jumped, swatting at it with my paw in return. I sighed; I needed to tell some cat, and Fallenrose was the least likely to go blather to someone else about it.

"Wolfstar wants me to be deputy," I mumbled in her ear, and she shot me an incredulous look.

"Does she have amnesia? Has she somehow forgotten she has a deputy that's alive and well?" Her voice was rising, and I slapped my tail over her jaws, glaring.

"I'd rather not announce it to the whole Clan just yet, thanks. And yes, she's aware that Stoneleap is still deputy. She thinks I would do a better job." Fallenrose snorted and shook my tail away from her muzzle.

"Then she's delusional." Her words cut like a thorn, and I averted my eyes, laying my head on my paws. So there was one cat besides myself that doubted my ability to be a good deputy. I stayed silent for a long while, listening to the chatter of Frostcloud and Poppyheart outside the nursery.

"Want to help come train a couple apprentices, Coldfrost?" I slitted one eye open to see the dark tabby paws of Firehawk. I pushed myself to my paws with a grunt, avoiding Fallenrose's gaze. She nudged my shoulder with her head when I stood, but I flicked my ears without saying a word to her. I didn't expect an apology for Fallenrose; I'd drop dead if I ever heard her utter the words "I'm sorry". But letting her know I was hurt by giving her the cold shoulder was as best as I could do.

"Yeah, I'll help." Firehawk rounded up three apprentices, Hazelpaw, Aspenpaw, and Echopaw and led the way out of camp towards the training area just a short way's walk from the camp. The three she-cats chattered all the way there, walking close with their heads together so I couldn't hear most of the conversation, but I had a suspision they were discussing the toms that shared their den.

"Coldfrost is going to demonstrate a tree-top ambush for you three." My ears flicked up in surprise; I had been one of the best climbers in MistClan in my younger days, but when I fell out of a tree and was layed up in the medicine den with a badly broken leg for nearly a moon, I had all but given up climbing. That had been ages ago, and I still hadn't done much of it. Every time I climbed a tree, I could still hear the sickening snap of my bone when I landed on the forest floor.

"I've never seen Coldfrost climb," Aspenpaw challenged, her tortoiseshell fur fluffed up against the leaf-fall chill in the air. Firehawk fixed her with a hard stare and the fur along his wide shoulders rippled.

"Coldfrost, go ahead." My belly twisted, but I couldn't contradict him in front of the apprentices. I nodded mutely and made my way slowly over to the roots of a large sturdy oak, with lots of low, thick branches. Bile rose up in my throat and I choked it down as I sank my claws into the bark. I wasn't scared of climbing anymore, it was just uneasiness that usually made me extra cautious on the rare ocassions that I had after my accident. Why this was unsettling me so much now, I hadn't a clue.

I hauled myself up onto the first branch, wobbling slightly but gaining my balance with a firm flick of my tail. I glanced below me and saw the three she-cats' eyes fixed on me, wide and taking in every move so they could copy it later. Firehawk was sitting a bit behind them, glaring up at me with his long tabby tail sprawled out behind him. Focus.

A few moments later and I was already high over their heads. Even if I fell from this height, there was no way I could possibly break a bone or badly injure myself. I was in a branch hanging barely a tail-length over Firehawk's head, as he had padded to stand right underneath me.

"Right," he was saying to the apprentices. "Pretend I'm an enemy warrior. Totally unsuspecting of an above-head attack."

"A good soldier is prepared for anything," Hazelpaw put in. Firehawk flicked his tail, a touch of annoyance in his eyes.

"True. But even the best soldiers make mistakes sometimes. Anyways, I'm just stalking along, scenting for any nearby cats. One of you come stand where I am; can you smell Coldfrost above us?" Aspenpaw dashed over to his side, raising her muzzle to scent the air with high enthusiasm.

"I can't," she confirmed, and with a nod from Firehawk she hopped back over to her companions.

"Right, you can't. So, I'm walking under this oak..." He moved a little ways away from the tree and dropped into a crouch, slowly stalking forward. I crouched low on my branch, claws lightly scraping the wood to keep my balance, waiting until Firehawk was directly underneath me to drop down with a fiersome shriek.

I landed right on the brown tabby's broad shoulders, digging my claws into his fur instead of flesh to prevent any pain but keeping a grip. He went flat, like any cat's natural instinct would be to do, and I held his shoulders down with my forepaws while battering his spine relentlessly with churning hindpaws, claws sheathed. I gave a quick nip to his scruff with no real power behind it before rolling off of him and coming up in a battle-ready crouch, prepared for his counterattack.

Firehawk shot to his paws, giving his rumpled fur a quick shake, and I straightened up as well.

"See, surprise is going to be your greatest weapon in a tree ambush - use it. You'll only have a few valuable seconds to deal as much damage as you can before they catch on and get their bearings back and turn on you."

"Sharp bites and a series of scratch marks are the best way to go than hard blows," I pointed out. "Making them seem like you're injuring them more than you actually are can be a big benefit to you. Make them burn everywhere. Not just a sore spot on their shoulder. They take up less time, too."

"One at a time, you three will practice an ambush on me or Coldfrost," Firehawk continued, not acknowledging my input. A spike of irritation rippled through me, making my fur hot. "Hazelpaw with me, Echopaw with Coldfrost. Aspenpaw, you can watch for now until one of the two are done." Echopaw bounded up to me, beside herself with enthusiasm, but I couldn't share it with her. Firehawk always acted like a jerk, but that was usually just for show around Wolfstar. Alone with other soldiers he was usually a cool tom. Why he was being so annoying and bossy right now was beyond me.

"Should I climb that tree?" I looked down at Echopaw, who was angling her ears toward a tree on the other side of the clearing. I nodded absently and followed her as she scurried over, scooting up the trunk like a squirrel. I watched Firehawk on the other side, creeping under the tree I had just been in, Hazelpaw balanced on top of it, waiting for him to get close. I felt something bounce off my head and jumped in surprise, scowling up at Echopaw.

"Was that necessary?" I scowled, kicking the pinecone she had tossed at my head, and she giggled.

"Get your head out of the clouds!" The fluffy light brown tabby was already waiting on a branch over my head, and I sighed, grudgingly moving out of the way to crouch down and pull myself forward. Firehawk had been good at reacting as if he hadn't been expecting the attack; I didn't need to try. I was so focused on watching the dark tabby adjust Hazelpaw's crouch with one paw that when Echopaw's heavy weight dropped down on my shoulders, I squealed like a startled rabbit, shooting forward, but her claws were burried in my shoulders and she clung on like a burr. I bucked, trying to kick her off, but I felt her teeth in my neck and shoulders, and panic flared in my belly like I was actually in battle, not just training and not actually being injured.

I rolled. Straight onto my back. I could feel her whole body being crushed under mine, heard her panicked wail in my ear and the breath being forced out of her lungs in a rush. Reality slammed back into me and I immediately shoved off of her, leaping to my paws and leaning down over her, nosing her shoulder worriedly.

"I'm sorry, Echopaw, I panicked, are you all right?" She sat up shakily, her striped fur ruffled and her green eyes huge with fear and shock.

"If you didn't want to train with us you could've just said so," she whimpered, and I licked her ear reassuringly.

"You caught me off guard, that's all. I'm really sorry. Want to try again? I promise I'll focus." Echopaw gave me a doubtful look but scampered back up the tree. I only allowed myself one more brief glare in Firehawk's direction while she was situating herself on a branch. He returned the cold stare before turning his back on me to practice with Hazelpaw again.

Who put ants in his fur?

Chapter Three

Sunset was falling and casting long shadows across the camp later that day after I was done with the training. The temperature had cooled down considerably, and most cats were huddled together in clusters to keep warm, though I was alone, sitting in the shade of one of the bramble walls and gulping down a sparrow.

Fallenrose had been absent since I returned, sore and limping, from the training clearing. The three apprentices had dropped onto my back from the tree so many times that my spine was practically numb, as were my shoulders and flanks from their attack blows. Wolfstar had passed by me earlier, though she hadn't said a word about her offer, just gave a swift nod of greeting on her way to the medicine den.

The thorn barriers rattled as Beechfall shoved his way into the camp, looking disgruntled. The cats scattered around the clearing raised their heads in curiousity, but Beechfall didn't say a word, just headed straight for Stoneleap, who was talking quietly with Lakeheart and Pineshade by the fresh-kill pile. The black deputy lifted his head as the soldier approached.

"What's up, Beechfall? I thought you went out to hunt." Beechfall curled his lip, his front claws working into the ground.

"There's an ambush waiting. RainClan. They're in the willow copse, waiting to attack from above. I scented them but they didn't see me. Might as well send a patrol out now to get rid of them so some other cat doesn't stumble underneath them by accident and get shredded." Stoneleap's ears flicked up in surprise, and distressed murmurs rippled through the camp. Within moments a loud clamour had gone up; it was unusual for a Clan to set up ambushes in another territory. Fighting was almost always reserved for the battle zones so that each Clan could feel safe in the depths of their own territories. And the willow copse wasn't very far from the camp.

All at once, voices rose in questioning wails.

"What do we do?"

"They've never gotten this close to camp before!"

"What if they attack the camp?"

"We need to go shred them now!"

Stoneleap raised his tail and the Clan fell silent. I felt uneasiness stir at the gesture; I didn't have the kind of authority and respect from the Clan to silence them so quickly, did I? Surely Stoneleap was much better suited to be deputy than I was, mistakes made or not.

"How many, Beechfall?" he asked the tabby soldier, eyes distant as he made his plan.

"Five or six. Not many. I didn't get a good look at who they were but I got close enough to do a count before I bolted out of there. I'm no kit when it comes to fighting skills but one against five is a suicide mission." Stoneleap nodded, turning to Lakeheart and Pineshade, who had listened to the whole exchange in stony silence next to the deputy.

"Pineshade, go get Wolfstar and give her a run-down of what just happened. She went to go visit with Sorrelwing in her den." Pineshade nodded and bounded off to the medicine den while Stoneleap turned to Lakeheart. "I want you to go out and monitor the forest around the camp. Get as close to the willow copse as you dare, but don't let yourself be seen. I know you're good at hiding and stalking. If they decide to get closer to camp, run straight back here to warn us." Lakeheart dipped her head and slipped out of the entrance, hunching her tortoiseshell shoulders to fit through the narrow tunnel.

"Okay, for the fighting patrol. Leafwillow, Crowfur, Grayclaw, Duskwing, Splashpelt, and Coldfrost." My stomach lurched a bit when I heard my name. I had never had to fight to defend the camp before. I had always just fought in the battle zones when on draft. But I would do whatever it took to defend the camp. This fight would have purpose.

Glancing around, I saw the other members of the patrol looking uneasy at the thought of fighting in the territory and not the battle zones.

"When do we leave?" I called, sounding more confident than I felt.

"Right now." I jumped when I heard Wolfstar's voice in my ear, and her tail resting on my shoulders when I turned. She gave me a knowing look before turning to address the whole Clan.

"This is an unusual occurance, I realize. Never before have we had to deal with an ambush outside of the battle zones. But I am confident that we can deal with it accordingly. MistClan will not lose this fight!" Yowls and caterwauls of agreement followed her words, filling me with a new sense of strength. We were expecting them, and they didn't know it. They thought they could destroy us with a surprise attack? They were dead wrong.

"We need to pretend we're a hunting patrol," I said without really thinking. "Let them think we're unsuspecting. We'll move right underneath them, and when they drop on us, we'll be ready and swinging. They won't know what hit them." I saw Wolfstar nod in agreement out of the corner of my eye, and felt an unexpected wave of pride rush through me,

"Coldfrost will lead you," Wolfstar called above the battle cries that all the soldiers were calling out.

"Go," she whispered to me, giving me a nudge with her white muzzle. "Go win this battle for us." I dropped a curt nod and waved the five other members of the patrol forward with my tail before leaping for the entrance, only to be cut off by a bundle of fuzzy gray and white fur.

"Be careful!" Frozenpaw wove between my forelegs, his wide blue eyes filled with concern. I couldn't blame the poor kit; I had all but taken the role of a father in his life, so if I didn't come home from this battle, it would be like losing both his parents for him. He was my only reason to come home after every draft.

I bent my head and licked him swiftly between the ears, ignoring the impatient mutters of the cats waiting behind me.

"I'll see you soon," I promised him, nudging my nephew gently out of the way before plunging through the tunnel, the patrol hard on my paws.

The six of us pounded hard through the forest for a few moments, until we could see the top of the willow trees in the copse. We slowed at that point, not wanting to seem like we were rushing for anything in particular. We were, in fact, just a leisurely hunting patrol out to collect some prey to take home.

I signaled with my tail for the patrol to spread out, not stay bunched up at my hind paws. I continued towards the trees at a slow walk, though my mind, already in battle mode, was screaming at me to rush in and shred any pelt I could get my claws into.

"Maybe we should try the willow copse for squirrels," I suggested, knowing we were close enough that the enemies could hear us up in the trees.

"I wanted a rabbit," Grayclaw muttered in his true argumentative grumpy manner.

"Oh, stop being so crotchety," Leafwillow grunted, flicking the dusky tom over the ear with her tail good-naturedly. "We can get one in the field on the way back. The copse will be crawling with squirrels."

"Betcha I can bring down three all by myself," Duskwing challenged, bouncing just a few steps in front of me with his gray-brown tail held high.

"In your dreams, Duskwing!"

Their casual banter made me want to snort, but I held myself back. I could already feel the RainClan fur and flesh tearing under my claws. In just a few short moments we would reach the trees and the fight would be on.

The five rambled on with each other, about casual things like who wanted to catch what and any Clan news that wouldn't give the enemies lurking in the trees any real information. At this point we were at the edge of the copse, and I signaled to my patrol.

"All right, everyone split up and scent around for any squirrels. I want to get back to camp as quickly as possible." They all went in opposite directions, sniffing around at the long springy grass and moving as casually as possible towards the trunks of the willows. My heart was beating in my throat as I bent my nose towards the ground and started heading towards a tree.

"Attack!" I heard the yowl, and a heartbeat later a heavy weight dropped down onto my shoulders. Before the enemy had even fully landed onto my back, I was rolling away, sending them sprawling into the ground. I rolled to my paws a few tail-lengths away, claws out and in a crouch ready for the attack.

The gray tabby staggered to his paws and glared at me with his teeth bared in rage.

"Quick paws," he grunted, flinging himself at me with his claws aiming for my shoulders. I leaned to the side neatly, headbutting his shoulder as he sailed past me and pouncing on him, holding his chest down with my forepaws.

"Or maybe I just knew what to expect," I snarled back in reply before raking his belly with my hind paws. He yowled as clumps of fur soaked in blood went flying and wriggled out from underneath me, giving my hind leg a sharp bite before ducking away.

"Maybe it wasn't much of a surprise, but we can still kick your tails into next moon." He leaped at me, somehow landing on my back, and dug his forepaws into the scruff of my neck, forcing my head down towards the ground. I'd never seen the move before, so I wasn't expecting the sudden imbalance, and couldn't prevent myself from crashing nose-first into the ground.

"You can try," I growled, raising a forepaw and slashing it across his face when he leaped forward for another attack while I was down. He hissed in pain and rage, stumbling back, the scratches on his face leaking blood into his eyes and nose. He shook his head to clear his vision and crouched low to the ground, snarling at me. I couldn't prevent myself from releasing a cocky purr, which caused the poor thing to explode with rage.

He launched himself at me, bowling me off my paws, and dug his claws into my shoulders, wrestling in the grass with me. I sank my teeth into his foreleg and managed to cut open his shoulder pretty badly, and in return I felt his teeth tearing through my ear.

I glanced over my oponnent to see how the other cats were doing. Splashpelt's white patches on her brown pelt were smeared with blood but she was holding her own, balanced on her hind legs and dealing a series of brutal front-paw slashes to a ginger she-cat quickly retreating. Crowfur was locked in a wrestling match with a brown tom and his muzzle was bleeding but he didn't seem too bad off. And little Leafwillow was clinging to the back of a tabby like a burr, screeching like a fox and tearing at his shoulders while he bucked wildly trying to throw her off, to no avail.

My concentration having slipped, I felt the gray tom's paw hit hard on the side of my head, causing me to see stars. I shook my head hard and dealt a return blow to his shoulder and he staggered more than I had expected, a look of pain twisting his face. Old wound? I leaped at him, closing the distance he had put between us, and aimed my claws at the same place, and he yowled, aiming one last slash at my throat before fleeing for the RainClan border. I snorted, shaking my head. The fight had been too easy.

"Coldfrost! Watch out!" I heard Splashpelt's shriek and turned my head just in time to see a huge red tom fly at me, knocking me off my paws and pinning me effortlessly to the ground. I yowled, struggling, but he was too heavy to dislodge, and my forelegs were trapped between my belly and his broad chest. My hind legs churned uselessly, unable to make any contact with the tom holding me down.

"Coldfrost, eh?" he sneered, leaning his muzzle close to my face. "I've heard much about you. A fine soldier. Killed the famous Gorseshadow on one of his first drafts, if I do recall correctly."

"Wasn't much of a fighter to be considered famous," I snarled in his face, my voice portraying none of the fear that was churning in my belly. "He went down fast." Anger flickered in his amber eyes, and he swung one huge white paw at my head, the edges of my vision going black.

"He was my brother," he spat, and a stone of dread lodged itself in my chest. Great job, Coldfrost. I was done. "I guess now's my chance to avenge him though, hm?" I didn't say a word, just glared at him, hoping the fury in my eyes could say everything that my mouth wouldn't let me. The huge red tom raised his white paw again, claws unsheathed this time, and as I watched, it seemed to be in slow motion as the paw came down towards my throat.

Before I could feel the burning pain of his claws ripping the life from me, the weight holding me down was suddenly lurched away. I hadn't realized that I had closed my eyes like a kit; I forced them open, staggering to my paws to see what had saved my life. My jaws dropped open at the sight of the red tom being pinned down by a shadowy form that I recognized instantly.

"Fallenrose!"

Chapter Four

Her claws ripped across the red tom's face, tearing out the fur and leaving a trail of bleeding scratches behind. He roared at her, slapping a paw across her cheek, and though her head snapped back, she stayed on her paws, attacking his shoulders in a flurry of flying claws.

When I turned to the side I saw the others had chased off their opponents and were now watching the battle between Fallenrose and the tom in gape-jawed shock. She was hardly half his size, but she looked like a lion, with her fur bushed up, claws slick with her enemy's blood, and a terrifying fire of fury in her eyes.

He grabbed her shoulders in his forepaws, twisting her body to the side and snapping at her neck with his teeth while she strained to keep her flesh away from his jaws. He meant business.

I looked over my shoulder to see the rest of the patrol behind me, eyes wide as they watched the fight. It was an unspoken rule in the Clan that unless someone is in immediate danger no one interfere with another soldier's fight. But now was not the time for following rules; this brutish tom could snap her neck in a heartbeat without warning.

I signaled with my tail and the six of us streamed towards the two battling cats. I made a running leap and landed squarely on his shoulders, sliding my forepaws between him and Fallenrose and prying him away from her. He tried to knock me off of him onto the ground but Duskwing was already there, sinking his teeth into the red tom's shoulder and pulling at it to get his attention on him instead of me. But before the RainClan soldier could retaliate on Duskwing, there was Crowfur, slashing his claws against his nose, sending a spray of blood flying. With a screech of fury, he lunged forward, but Splashpelt was there, sliding under his forelegs and tripping him up, sending him flying forwards into the ground, where Grayclaw was ready with a strong bite to the spine.

Shrieking, the red tom staggered to his paws, glaring at the seven of us but retreating slowly.

"This isn't over," he snapped, blood dripping from his various wounds into the grass. I snorted, taking a few pawsteps toward him, excitement pulsing through me when he backed up faster.

"It was over before it even began," I growled, lunging towards him. With a low growl, he turned and fled towards the RainClan border, leaving a line of blood on a fern that he brushed up against in his haste to flee.

"Thanks for saving my tail, Fallenrose," I murmured after a few moments of silence had passed after his departure. Her tortoiseshell fur was torn across her shoulders and she had a deep cut that was leaking blood on her flank, but other than heavy breathing she seemed to be okay.

She snorted, turning away from me and pacing the copse.

"Just consider this my way of apologizing for the deputy thing," she muttered, not meeting my gaze. A shot of warm happiness shot through me; Fallenrose was a loyal soldier, but she was the type of cat that would rather save her own tail than protect a Clanmate that was as good as dead in the claws of an enemy. And she had saved me just because she felt guilty for being cold earlier. I stepped towards her and touched my nose to her ear. For a moment, she didn't move, just let my nose touch her fur, before shaking me off and turning to the other cats.

"We'd better get home and report back to Wolfstar," she called, angling her ears upward. "It's almost sunset." She turned and wove her way through the willow trunks, out of the copse and heading back towards the camp. I sighed and motioned to the others with a wave of my tail, following after her.



"How did the fight go?" Daisycloud's excited yowl rose in the air the moment my patrol had shoved their way through the entrance tunnel. Her call was quickly joined by many others, everyone clamoring to know if we'd won the battle or not.

"You should've seen their stupid mange-pelt faces when we turned on them when they dropped out of the trees," Crowfur yowled, a few amused purrs meeting his words. "I've never seen such a stupid look of shock!"

"Did you kill anyone?" Willowpaw asked, running in circles around Splashpelt. The brown and white she-cat snorted, nudging the apprentice away.

"No, we didn't kill any of them. We weren't at a battle zone, there was no reason to kill them. Plus, I'd like to think they're running back to camp right now wailing about how miserably they lost. And that's worth more than taking their life with my claws." Gingerflower had disappeared into Wolfstar's den when our patrol returned; now, the small white leader was making her way across the camp to join us, her blue eyes shining in the rapidly dimming light, Gingerflower following behind with a happy trot.

"Did you win it?" she whispered when she got to my side. She looked like a hopeful apprentice waiting to hear from their mentor if they had executed a battle move correctly. A small burst of pride squirmed in my belly, and I nodded mutely. Wolfstar's blue eyes were blazing, reflecting the golden light from the sunset, and lifted her muzzle.

"MistClan is victorious!" she yowled, and within moments the rest of the cats were yowling their Clan pride along with their leader. And though I was as excited by the win as they were, I was too exhausted to even raise my voice to join in with them. My legs felt like they were made of stone, and my eyes were so heavy that they kept slipping shut of their own accord.

"Fallenrose was a hero!" Leafwillow chirped, waving her golden tabby tail at me. "A RainClan soldier had Coldfrost pinned and was about to rip his throat out, and she flew out of nowhere and knocked the RainClan cat off him!" As the last of the sun slipped off the horizon, leaving the light a dull dark blue, Wolfstar dipped her head to Fallenrose, her blue eyes and bright white fur shining in the weak light.

"I thank you for your courage, Fallenrose," she murmured, and the tortoiseshell soldier shifted her paws, obviously uncomfortable at the praise and attention.

"Just don't let it happen again," she muttered in my ear before snatching a mouse off the fresh-kill pile and shoving her way into the den we shared with Cinderfoot and Nightwhisker.

"Coldfrost!” Frozenpaw slammed into my forelegs, nearly carrying me off my paws but I stayed standing, steadying the tom with a paw. “You’re back!”

“Told you I would be, mouse-brain,” I purred, though the happiness in his eyes was worth the sting of my battle wounds.

“I wish I could’ve gone,” he grunted, plopping down on his haunches.

"When you're older." Tanglepaw and Mintpaw dashed over from the apprentices' den and piled on top of their adoptive brother, the two of them looking up at me with identical owl-wide blue eyes while Frozenpaw squirmed and yelped from under them.

"Mothclaw was betting that you'd all come back shredded!" Tanglepaw chirped, wincing when Frozenpaw stabbed a paw into his flank in an attempt to get free. I glanced across the clearing to the dark brown and white tabby, who grimaced.

"Apprentices and their crazy stories," Mothclaw muttered, and I snickered.

"The confidence is appreciated, mouse-brain." Mintpaw crawled off of Frozenpaw to peer at my shoulders, covered in blood from the claw marks the red RainClan tom had left on them.

"Maybe the others didn't get shredded, but Coldfrost is pretty close to it," the pretty silver tabby commented, and I nudged her with my muzzle.

"Go clean the elders' den or something," I purred, and with a shrug she turned, scooped up a pawful of dust and flung it at Tanglepaw's obviously recently groomed gray fur, and raced off to the elder's den before her brother could do nothing more than squall in anger, not enough time for him to retaliate. He darted after her, just a tad too slow to catch her, pawing at the tip of her tail. Frozenpaw waved his tail at me before following his siblings. I shook my head. Crazy kits.

I felt a nose touch my shoulder and looked down to see Wolfstar staring at me with her shining blue eyes.

"I'm proud of you," she whispered, and I flicked my ears in embarrassment at the praise. "I truly want you to consider accepting my offer, Coldfrost. You didn't let your uneasiness and fear of fighting a different kind of battle influence your ability to lead the patrol. You have courage." I sighed, looking away to the sky that was now dark with the night. "You should go get your wounds tended to," the white furred leader added before dipping her head slightly and moving away to chat with a group of soldiers.

As if on cue, Sorrelwing appeared beside me, a wad of herbs in her jaws and an expectant look in her green eyes. I sighed, plopping down on my belly, giving the medicine cat an unspoken allowance to treat my injuries. The golden tabby set to work immediately, nosing around my fur to find all the scratches and chewing some herbs to prepare a poultice. I laid my head on my paws and closed my eyes, grateful for the moment to rest my overworked muscles.

"This is for you." Only a moment after I had shut my eyes, I heard the quiet timid voice just over my head. I slitted one eye open and saw Goldpaw standing over me, shuffling her paws shyly, a large plump vole near my nose. I lifted my head slightly, ignoring Sorrelwing's grumble of protest, to blink warmly at the striped apprentice.

"Thank you, Goldpaw." She dipped her head and scuttled off, and I felt warm amusement and affection in my belly. I'd saved her life when she had been an apprentice for no longer than five sunrises; she had fallen into the river at it's deepest point when she went out in the forest by herself, and would've drowned if I hadn't been hunting nearby. Since then she had always been quietly respectful towards me and was always willing to help me out if I needed something to be done.

"Wolfstar told me that she wants you to be deputy," Sorrelwing murmured as she began to spread the poultice over the deep scratches across my shoulders. I winced, both at the sting of the juices and the comment from the medicine cat.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I should take her up on it. I'm not cut out to be a deputy." She was quiet for a moment, her small paws massaging my fur to get all the herbs into the cuts.

"I think you could be," Sorrelwing whispered after a moment, beginning to smooth cobwebs over the deeper cuts. "You're young, but you're brave. You've got more experience than a cat your age should be. You're strong. You're smart. And she believes in you." I glanced across the clearing to where Wolfstar was watching a mock battle between two soldiers, her tail over her small white paws. She looked regal and strong. Could I ever ammount to the leader she had become? I sighed and got to my paws as Sorrelwing finished treating the injuries, wiping her paws on the grass to get rid of the sticky green remnants.

"Think about it, okay? For the Clan, Coldfrost." Sorrelwing padded off to work on Splashpelt's wounds and I sighed, bending my head to scoop up the vole Goldpaw had left for me, carrying it off to my den to eat in privacy.

Fallenrose was there, grooming her dark tortoiseshell pelt. She didn't smell of herbs; she obviously hadn't gotten her scratches tended to. I dropped into my nest beside her, setting the vole down on the ground between us. She shot me a look, her tongue poised mid-lick on her foreleg.

"Want to share?" Fallenrose sighed, grudgingly bending her head to take a bite. I followed suit, and the two of us chewed in silence for a moment.

"You wouldn't be a bad deputy," she muttered after swallowing. "I never thought you would be. I was just...grumpy. I had my mind on something else." I stared at my paws instead of meeting her gaze when I asked my next question.

"Like what?" Her sighed ruffled her whiskers, long and troubled. I didn't think I had ever heard her sound troubled. Just annoyed.

"I...found something out this morning." I finally looked up, into her amber eyes. They were so full of emotion that I was concerned, for a fleeting moment, that she was about to say she was in love with me. I was disturbed by the excitement and nervousness that fluttered in my belly at the thought. Fallenrose was just a friend; so why was I praying the next words out of her mouth would be a romantic confession?

But instead the words filled me with dread.

"Coldfrost, my brother is still alive."

Chapter Five

My heart was pounding in my chest, the blood roaring in my ears. Impossible. Fallenrose's brother Rowanstrike had died when her and I were still apprentices; he had been her only family, the cat she was closest to, and his death had been the cause of her severe personality change. She was quiet and reserved as an apprentice, not really socializing with any cat other than her older brother. But when he died, she transformed from passively shy to sharp-tongued and cold. Grief had changed her, and while I didn't begrudge her it, every cat had experienced grief. Fallenrose was the only one who turned cruel. Though when her loved one died, she had no one else, while other cats always had a friend or family member to turn to.

But he was dead. He had died in battle, like over ninety percent of the cats who had died in the Clan. Rowanstrike's body had been carried back to camp, vigil had been held, and he had been carried off to the burying grounds. The bodies weren't actually buried, and it wasn't really "ground" - it was the section of river on the very far edge of our territory, where it was the deepest and the current was fastest. The bodies were lowered into the water there and they were swept away, downstream, away from Clan territory. RainClan used the same stream, just farther down where we wouldn't cross paths if each Clan was doing a burial at the same time, and we weren't sure what the other two Clans did for body disposal.

"Fallenrose, he's dead. You saw his body. He was taken to the river. He's gone. Who told you that?" Her eyes had gone from intense to frantic, wild, darting all over the den. Her claws worked into the moss of her nest, tearing the bedding.

"No one told me. I saw him. This morning, when I stopped to hunt for you. I was chasing a squirrel and I got too close to the FrostClan war-zone like a mouse-brain. I decided to climb a tree and just watch the fight for a while. Icefire was on draft and I wanted to see if she was okay, you know, after her recovery from that wrenched shoulder. He was there, Coldfrost! Fighting at the war zone!" My shock melted away into sympathy, and before thinking, I stroked my tail down her flank. Any other time I wouldn't have dared; she would have clawed my ears for trying. But she was behaving so unlike herself that it was easy to forget how sharp her claws were when they struck you.

"Fallenrose, Rowanstrike is dead. The cat you saw had to have just looked like him. And why would he be in FrostClan? It doesn't make any sense." Her expression hardened into anger, and she jerked away from my touch, her old personality leaking back in.

"I know my own brother, Coldfrost. He's obviously older but it was him. Dark brown tabby fur. Amber eyes."

"Do you know how many amber-eyed dark tabbies are in the four Clans combined?"

"He had that dash of tan across his shoulders. Almost looked like a lightning bolt. Right between his shoulder blades. So did the cat I saw earlier." I opened my mouth to fire off another chastising comment, meeting her fiery gaze with one of my own, but slowly closed my jaws. Rowanstrike had had an abnormal light brown mark on his shoulders. So distinguishable and unique that the odds of another cat in another Clan having the exact same marking was...practically impossible. Fallenrose lifted her chin at me as if to say "told you so".

"How could he still be alive?" I whispered. She shook her head, lowering her eyes.

"I don't know. I thought about telling Wolfstar, but - if he changed Clans he'd be considered a traitor. She would kill him. If he's alive and there's the possibility of getting my brother back, I don't want to lose him again." But there was no hope for Fallenrose getting her brother back. He couldn't come back to MistClan no matter what, and Fallenrose could never get into FrostClan. It was a miracle that Rowanstrike had been able to do it.

"I just want to find out what happened to him," Fallenrose whispered. "Why he faked his death, why he joined FrostClan, if he's happy...if he's missed me..." I wanted to help Fallenrose get her answers. But one thing was for sure - I could not be a loyal deputy to Wolfstar while sneaking around FrostClan to try to get in contact with a traitor.

"I'll help you," I mewed quietly, and she lifted her head in surprise.

"But Wolfstar..." She had read my mind, and I swept my tail down her flank reassuringly.

"I'll deny the deputy position. I never really wanted it anyway. I want to help you reunite with your brother." As I finished talking, rattling bramble branches announced the entrance of Cinderfoot and Nightwhisker as they crowded into the den, chatting about the RainClan fight. She nodded slightly at me, gratefulness in her eyes.

"Hey, Coldfrost! Heard you had to have Fallenrose save your tail!" She turned away from me slowly, the hope in her eyes replaced with her usual snarky sarcastic look.

"Of course I did. He would be floating in the river right now if it weren't for me. When am I not saving some cat's pathetic life?" Cinderfoot and Nightwhisker were never bothered or affected by Fallenrose's blunt behaviour, the only reason that they shared the den with us. The two toms nudged my shoulder with amused purrs before settling into their nests, snores rising from their dark huddled shapes in moments.

Fallenrose's eyes glowed at me in the dark, nothing but the faint outline of her body visible. I pushed the vole closer to her and we finished off the meal together in silence. I saw her nod at me faintly before the glow of her eyes disappeared as she layed down in her nest to sleep, her flanks rising and falling in the rhythm of sleep a while later.

I curled up in my nest, tucking my tail over my nose, but it took a long time for me to eventually drift into a fitfull sleep.

~*~*~*

The clearing was full of fog when I pushed my way out of the den the next morning. Most of the soldiers were already in the clearing, looking sleepy as they clustered around Stoneleap, waiting for him to announce patrols and drafts for the day. Graystream and Rosepelt were emerging from the nursery, their seven collective kits tripping them up as they rolled into the clearing, chasing each other around with high-pitched squeaks. Sorrelwing was sending Willowpaw off to collect cobwebs to replenish her store.

My belly was rumbling, the fresh-kill beckoning to me, but I knew I needed to be assigned to a draft or patrol before I was allowed to eat anything. I sighed inwardly, sticking my head back inside the den. Nightwhisker's nest was empty, but Fallenrose and Cinderfoot were still asleep, unbearably loud snores coming from the hunched shape of Cinderfoot.

"Wake up, you great lump," I called into the den, scooping up a pinecone from outside and tossing it at the gray tom. His head shot up with a snort of surprise, blinking bleary eyes. He shot me a dark look as he got to his paws and gave his pelt a hasty shake. Fallenrose was already stretching, pausing on her way out of the den to give Cinderfoot a hearty shove and sending the black-pawed tom sprawling back into his nest with a squall.

Fallenrose and I joined the group that was huddled around Stoneleap, pelts fluffed against the early-morning chill. The deputy nodded at us before evaluating the group.

"Okay, draft for today. Pineshade, Hollywhisker, Pebblefur, and Mothclaw, I want you to go to the RainClan war zone. Splashpelt, Beechfall, Petalheart, Fallenrose, head to DustClan's. And Hailfeather, Crowfur, Lakeheart, Firehawk, you're at FrostClan's." Fallenrose shot me a look before padding off to join her draft group. I felt a tightness in my chest that I felt every time a cat I truly cared about was sent into draft. We had too many queens that were either pregnant or had kits too young to be left alone that the drafts had gone from having six cats to four. It was dangerous, but we didn't have another choice; if we put all the soldiers into drafts there would be no hunting done for the day.

"Coldfrost and Nightwhisker, you two lead hunting patrols." Stoneleap dropped a nod to the gathered cats and padded away to duck into Wolfstar's den. The soldiers broke apart into their groups, flocking to the fresh-kill pile before heading out for their assignments. Cats on draft had first claim on whatever was left in the morning; they needed to get to the war zones as quickly as possible, and didn't always have time to stop and hunt on the way if there wasn't anything on the pile.

By the time the drafts had eaten rapidly and left, Fallenrose not sparing another glance my way, the fresh-kill pile was empty save for a rabbit from the previous morning, rapidly turning rancid.

"I'll take that to the elders," Shadepaw offered, dragging it out of the shallow dip and struggling to get it to the dense bush that served as the elders' den.

"Sedgeleaf, Cinderfoot, Robinpaw and Hazelpaw, you're with me. I need to speak to Wolfstar first though, we'll head out in a minute." The only response I got was a cheery nod from Sedgeleaf and a sleepy grunt from Cinderfoot. I rolled my eyes and turned towards Wolfstar's den, calling out a greeting at the entrance.

"Come in." As I stepped into the den, Stoneleap moved around me to exit, calling out a friendly mew as he passed me. So Wolfstar hadn't told him that she wanted to replace him yet.

She was lying on her flank on the sandy floor of her den, her tongue rasping over her long white fur. One ear twitched when she caught sight of me, and she slowly sat up. Her expression was earnest, her stance confident.

"Coldfrost," she greeted me, dipping her head. My pelt prickled at the small gesture; it was the soldier that acted respectfully towards the leader, not the other way around. But I didn't comment on it as I sat in front of her.

"I've made my decision on your offer." Her ears flicked up in surprise, the fur along her spine rippling.

"And?" Her voice was steady and calm but there was a brightness in her eyes. She was confident that I was going to say yes. I recalled how Wolfstar had been in Sorrelwing's den before the battle patrol left last night, and the medicine cat's pushy behaviour that I should take the position. Annoyance made my paws twitch at the connection, but I kept my voice steady and devoid of the irritation I felt.

"I have chosen to decline the deputy position." Wolfstar shot to her paws, her blue eyes troubled.

"Please, Coldfrost. You would make a wonderful deputy. I would love for you to become leader when I pass on."

"I'm sorry, Wolfstar, I really am. Every kit dreams of being leader when they grow up and I was no different. But I don't think I'm ready, and I think Stoneleap is doing a fine job right now. There's no reason for him to be replaced." She didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at me with an unidentifiable expression in her eyes. Wolfstar eventually nodded curtly, wrapping her tail over her paws.

"Very well. I respect your decision. Thank you for letting me know, Coldfrost." I dipped my head to her in a bow before backing out of the den, the bramble branches catching at my fur as if trying to capture me to hold me prisoner for what I had just done, and what I was planning on doing with Fallenrose in the future.

Chapter Six

The shrill shriek of the squirrel was cut off abruptly in my jaws, the warmth flooding my mouth with water. My belly was snarling with hunger at this point, my teeth trying to gulp down the fresh-kill of its own accord, but while the warrior code had all been abandoned at the start of the war, the rule that hunting patrols cannot eat until they have provided for the Clan still remained.

I dropped the squirrel at my paws when I heard the bushes rattling and Sedgeleaf slid through the branches. The spunky gray and black she-cat held three mice by their tails in her teeth and a proud lift to her chin. I nodded in approval.

"Good haul, Sedgeleaf. Have you seen Cinderfoot?" She signaled with her tail in the general direction of the river on the RainClan border before eventually dropping her catch so she could speak.

"He went down to the river to try for fish and water voles. I've never seen him fish before so I think he's just trying to show off for Hailfeather when she gets back from draft." The unspoken "if" hung in the air between us, and she seemed to realize it at the same time I did. Sedgeleaf dropped her eyes to her paws. There hadn't been any dramatic casualties in draft in a while; we lost one soldier a moon ago, but no continuous losses like we usually did. But now that the drafts were being shortened, who knew how many cats we would lose? For all we knew, only one cat from each group would come home tonight.

"He better be careful along RainClan after we beat them in the battle the other day. And the apprentices?"

"Stalking birds by the blackberry bushes. The two little rascals had already caught three fat crows between them when I last saw them." Pride for the two spread warmly through me; in the Clans, apprentices didn't have set mentors anymore, they were just collectively mentored by whatever soldiers were free for the day. It worked out fine, all the apprentices learning techniques from practically all the cats in the Clan instead of strategies from one set mentor. I had spent more time with Robinpaw and Hazelpaw then most of the other warriors, and their hunting success made me feel like I was doing them well.

"All right, get your prey," I told Sedgeleaf, scooping up my squirrel and motioning with my head in the direction of the berry bushes where the apprentices were. The bushes they were hunting at were close to the FrostClan border, between where Sedgeleaf and I were now and the river where Cinderfoot was hunting. It made sense to collect the apprentices before heading to the river. As I thought about the Clan that Fallenrose had said her brother had last been seen in, I felt guilt twist in my belly, like I was already doing something to go against my Clan, but I forced it down. I wasn't doing anything wrong. Yet.

As Sedgeleaf and I padded through the woods in silence, I heard the angry shrieks of the FrostClan war zone in the distance. We weren't that close that we were in danger of getting caught in the fighting when we got the others to head home, but the sound still caused my ears to lay flat against my head, and there was caution in Sedgeleaf's lively eyes when I looked at her. We were listening to the noise of our Clanmates being injured and possibly killed, and it made my fur itch with the instinct to drop my fresh-kill and barge after them, tearing into the flesh of the attackers.

The sky overhead was rapidly clouding over with an oncoming storm, the air beginning to smell of rain. Cats on draft would fight through a storm unless it began to lightning; in that case, drafts head out for home until the next morning. I was praying for a bad lightning storm. I'd seen Fallenrose go out to draft countless times, but for some reason I was anxious to see her safe home again as soon as possible. Sedgeleaf and I exchanged a glance before picking up the pace to a trot.

The sky was as dark as dusk by the time we made it to the blackberry bushes, struggling through the cramped branches to get to the tiny clearing in the center where a cat could sit in shadows, waiting for a bird to land on just the right branch to pounce. Hazelpaw and Robinpaw were hardly more than dim outlines hunched under a bush, their eyes glowing out from the darkness, fixed on the bush opposite them. The eyes shifted to Sedgeleaf and I before the two young cats crawled out from under the branches, each dragging a pair of birds.

"You two have done good," I purred, rasping my tongue over Robinpaw's ear. The dark ginger tom ducked out of the way in embarrassment, but there was satisfaction in his dark blue eyes. "All right, let's just head to the river to get Cinderfoot and we'll head towards the river to get Cinderfoot." The two apprentices happily grabbed two birds each in their jaws, tails held high as they navigated their catch through the tight branches before crawling out after it. Sedgeleaf and I exchanged a glance before following slowly, unable to simply wriggle through as easily as the smaller cats could.

We'd taken approximately three steps before Hazelpaw tripped over a bramble and sent a rabbit streaking away. With a yowl, Hazelpaw took chase, just a white blur as she raced after the prey. Robinpaw hesitated only a moment before following, eating up the space between him and Hazelpaw until they were racing side by side.

I purred, setting my squirrel down to wait for the two to return. Rabbits were rare this deep into the forest. And it was clear that they were desperate to prove their excellent hunting skills today, with their impressive haul of birds and soon-to-be catch of a rabbit.

"It's time those two were given their full names," I commented to Sedgeleaf. The she-cat opened her jaws to reply but was cut off by a loud, pained shriek, too loud and shrill to be the sound of a rabbit getting caught in the jaws of a cat. Sedgeleaf and I exchanged a glance before taking off in the direction the apprentices had gone, prey abandoned.

Hazelpaw and Robinpaw had been backed into a bramble thicket by three burly FrostClan warriors, lips drawn and claws unsheathed. The two looked terrified, pelts bushed out and eyes wide as moons. A mottled gray tom raised a paw, claws extended, and without hesitation I flung myself at him, knocking him away from the young cats with a loud snarl. The tom turned on me, hissing, and raked his claws across my ear. I felt the hot burn of the cut and the blood drip down to my head, but I ignored it when the second soldier, a pale tom, joined his Clanmate and leaped at me, clinging to my back like a burr and leaving a series of scratches along my shoulders. Before I could try to throw him off, I saw a dark shape out of the corner of my eye as Sedgeleaf sank her teeth into the pale tom's neck and yanked him roughly off of me. He struggled in her grasp, spitting with anger, and the mottled tom looked like he was ready to attack again when the third warrior spoke quietly.

"Pebblestorm, Marshtail, let up." The gray tom whipped his head around to stare at the third soldier in astonishment, and my breath caught in my throat when I turned as well.

Rowanstrike. Obviously older, a senior warrior now, and his pelt had darkened considerably since I had last seen him, but it was definitely him. The splash of tan across his shoulders shifted as he rolled his muscles and motioned with his tail for his Clanmates to stand beside him. Sedgeleaf dropped the brown soldier to the ground, and he cast one mutinous glare at her before shaking himself out and going to stand beside Rowanstrike.

"I could've shredded them both, Rockfoot!" the mottled tom snapped, his tail lashing in frustration. So he wasn't going by Rowanstrike anymore. Fallenrose's brother fixed his Clanmate with a cold amber stare.

"We don't need to shred them, Pebblestorm. You were about to harm the apprentices. Do you need to hurt young cats to feel strong?" Pebblestorm let out an angry snort, but stayed silent, turning his head away from the other tom. Rockfoot turned towards me, and I held my breath, waiting for some spark of recognition to flare in his eyes, but his expression and stance stayed stoic. I had no idea if he knew me as one of his old Clanmates or was just good at covering it up.

"They were chasing a rabbit and they crossed our border," Rockfoot explained calmly to me, motioning with his tail to Hazelpaw and Robinpaw. Hazelpaw was crouched low to the ground, trembling, but Robinpaw seemed to have gotten over his shock and was raised to his full height, claws out and hackles raised. "These two cloud-brained soldiers decided to claw first, ask questions later. It was quite clearly an accident, so I apologize for their hasty actions. We'll let you go." Marshtail let out a cry of surprise, sinking his claws into the ground.

"You're letting them go? They were trying to steal prey!" Rockfoot curled his lip at the brown tom, who raised his chin in defiance.

"The rabbit was from their own territory. And it's now on ours. If you want to complain that we have an extra rabbit in our boundaries now, go right ahead and voice your opinions to Blossomstar. I'm sure she'll claw your ears off." Marshtail snarled and shouldered past the soldier, stalking away deeper into FrostClan territory. Pebblestorm cast one last angry look at Rockfoot before following, pelt still bristling. Rockfoot sighed after his Clanmates and turned back to me.

"Again, I'm sorry. You can take your apprentices and go." He dipped his head to me before leaping off into the bracken, crashing after the two toms already departed. I exchanged a look with Sedgeleaf, who shrugged, eyes wide with surprise. I sighed and flicked my tail at Hazelpaw and Robinpaw.

"Come on, you two. See what happens when you try to show off?"

"I could've fought them off," Robinpaw muttered, nudging Hazelpaw to her feet. I snorted.

"Yes, three full-grown FrostClan soldiers who've killed countless cats in their life against one untrained apprentice who's never even been in a draft. An easy win for you, I'm sure." The dark ginger tom shot me a scathing look, and I instantly felt guilty for being so short with him, but the sight of Rockfoot had spooked me. Up until now, I had thought Fallenrose had bees for brains, thinking she'd seen her dead brother. But there was no denying it now. Rowanstrike was still alive, and living in FrostClan.

As we circled back to where we left the prey and headed to the river to get Cinderfoot, my mind was on the tom. I wanted answers just as badly as Fallenrose did, now seeing for myself that he had someone survived the injuries the whole Clan had assumed had killed him. How did he survive? Why FrostClan? What happened that was so terrible that he faked his own death just to get away from MistClan?

~*~*~*

The rain had started by the time we made it back to camp. No thunder or lightning yet, but quite a heavy downpour, drenching our fur in seconds. I dropped my squirrel on the fresh-kill pile, followed by Cinderfoot, proudly carrying three plump fish in his jaws. Robinpaw and Hazelpaw dumped three of their four birds on the pile, keeping one for themselves before dashing to the apprentices' den to eat in the shelter of the bramble roof.

Nightwhisker's hunting patrol had already returned, so the pile was close to full. I grabbed a couple of mice and a shrew for the queens, hunching my shoulders against the rain.

The nursery was warm and dry inside, full of milk-scent and the quiet mewling of kits. Daisycloud, Frostcloud and Poppyheart were laying in their nests, watching with amusement as their kits tumbled around with each other, playing some game.

"Hi, Coldfrost," Skykit chirped, breaking away from the game to bounce up to my paws. I gave her a friendly flick over the head with my tail, dropping the prey between the three queens.

"Where's Graystream and Rosepelt?" I asked, noticing the absense of the two queens. Within seconds I had kits crawling all over me, tiny little claws hooking into my pelt to hang on. I staggered under the sudden weight, grasping a squealing Thunderkit in my jaws and setting him down on the ground.

"They went to take a walk," Daisycloud replied drowsily, blinking at me with sleepy eyes.

"Why don't you stay and eat with us?" Poppyheart offered, nudging a mouse towards me. "No sense getting drowned again to go back out there. And I'm sure the kits will be happy to have a soldier to play with instead of their mothers and each other." Her eyes sparkled at me with amusement, and I purred, sitting down next to Frostcloud. I bundled Leopardkit away with my hind paws and ate the mouse in a few quick gulps before I was pummelled with tiny paws again.

"Play with us!" Streamkit demanded, stomping up to me and lashing his stumpy brown tail. I swallowed the last bite of my meal and got to my paws.

"Tell me what you want me to do," I purred, and Moonkit leaped at my flank.

"Be a RainClan soldier," the black tom squeaked, "and we'll all kill you!" As if his words had been the cue, the ten kits swarmed over me, knocking me off my paws and carrying me to the den floor. I yelped in genuine surprise when I felt claws scrabbling at me and tiny teeth latching into my tail, though not biting.

"Don't be too rough, Hollykit," Frostcloud chastised her daughter when the tortoiseshell kit gave a flying leap at my muzzle. I shook off the pile of downy fur to glare at the three mothers, who purred in amusement.

After a moment the first crack of thunder rolled, announcing the beginning of the storm. The loud noise shocked the energy out of the kits, and they all scattered to their mothers, bundling themselves against the queens' bellies. Graystream and Rosepelt's kits raced to me in the absense of their mothers, their kit-soft pelts tickling my belly when they fitted themselves behind my forepaws.

"My mother's out in that," Hailkit's voice trembled, and I licked the pale she-cat over the head.

"It's just a storm. I'm sure they're on their way home, or taking shelter until the rain lets up." She still looked doubtful, so I led Hailkit and her sister Snowkit to their nest, settling them among the moss. Rosepelt's three kits had already curled up in their own nest by Daisycloud, who looked about ready to fall asleep with her babies in the crook of her belly.

I was about ready to take a nap myself, lying near the entrance and watching the rain fall just a few mouse-lengths away from my nose, when a shadow fell across. I lifted my head to see Fallenrose, soaked to the bone, standing just in front of me. I sat up in surprise, moving away so she could duck into the shelter of the den.

"You look cold," I pointed out, leaping out of the way when she shook out her pelt, sending water flying. There was a distant yelp when one of the icy drops hit Hollykit on the head. She glared at me, and the cold look her in her amber eyes reminded me of her brother's. I felt an icy feeling soak through me like a river at the reminder of my encounter with the tabby soldier, and I flicked my tail at her, turning to the queens.

"I think we'll brave the storm to get back to the soldiers' den. We'll leave you all to sleep." The queens called out good-byes, the kits too busy burrowing down in the soft moss for a nap to say anything. I inclined my head at Fallenrose and stepped out into the rain, instantly shocked at how cold it was.

We wasted no time dashing across the clearing, practically leaping into our den to get out of the storm. My pelt was already drenched in the short amount of time out in the open, and I instantly sank into my nest and stretched out a foreleg to begin grooming the water out of my pelt.

"I take it you have some news?" Fallenrose mumbled after a moment, not bothering to dry herself. She was sitting near the entrance to the den, watching the rain. Her tail was wrapped over her paws, and I couldn't decipher the dark look in her eyes.

I sat up before answering, keeping my eyes fixed on her though she wouldn't meet my gaze.

"I saw your brother, Fallenrose. You were right. He's alive and living in FrostClan."

Chapter Seven

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she sprang to her paws. When a spatter of blood hit the sandy floor I remembered for the first time that she had just returned from draft. My eyes scanned her body quickly, searching for injuries. There was a nasty gash on her shoulder, the fur matted with blood that was both fresh and in various stages of drying. Crusted blood around her forepaw suggested a wrenched claw, and there was a fresh tear in her ear. Blood was dripping to the floor from her belly, but none of the wounds seemed in serious need of medicine cat attention.

"Did you talk to him?" she demanded, her legs trembling with either exhaustion or excitement, I couldn't tell. Either way I got to my feet and nudged her flank until she sat down again, and though she shouldered me away with an impatient hiss, she obliged.

"Sort of." I explained the encounter on FrostClan territory to her after sitting, her eyes going from wide to narrowing by the end of my story.

"I don't understand why he wanted out," she mumbled, twitching her ear. "He had family and friends here. No one hated him. He was a great warrior. So what made him leave?" I couldn't answer her questions, and I had the same ones. I hadn't been great friends with Rowanstrike when he lived here, but he was my Clanmate. If something had threatened him, why back out and fake his own death? Why not ask Wolfstar for guidance?

"You'll still help me, won't you?" Fallenrose asked suddenly, her amber gaze unexpectedly intense. I nodded slightly.

"I promised you I would. And I want to get to the bottom of this just as badly as you do." She let out a little mew of satisfaction and got stiffly to her paws, licking her wrenched claw ruefully.

"I'll talk to you later. I need to go get treated by Sorrelwing before I get every grain of sand in this camp embedded in my wounds." I called out a good-bye when she ducked out of the den.

Alone with my thoughts, an unwelcome notion crept into my mind. Whatever Rowanstrike had been running from, whatever had made him fake his own death so that he could start over in a new Clan, it had never been resolved. Whatever it was, it was still living in MistClan.

~*~*~*

"Pineshade, Sedgeleaf, Firehawk, and Coldfrost, you're on draft for the FrostClan war-zone." My head jerked slightly when my name was called for draft. I shouldn't have been surprised; I had gotten two days off somehow, when most cats usually get one at most. I felt a stare burning into my back, and when I turned, Fallenrose's wide amber eyes were boring into me. It clicked a moment later that I had just been assigned to the FrostClan draft. What were the odds that I'd see her brother there today?

"Eat up and head out," Stoneleap concluded, waving his tail at us as he crossed the camp to duck into Wolfstar's den. I sighed and headed for the fresh-kill pile. My belly was clenched with the stress of the draft, but I choked down a sparrow, knowing there wouldn't be a chance to eat again until this evening when draft was finished.

"If you see him..." Fallenrose murmured in my ear, and I jerked away, scowling.

"If I see him, what? You expect me to try to have a conversation with him in the middle of the war zone? 'Oh, hey, remember me? Your old Clanmate before you faked your death?' Get out of my fur, Fallenrose." The tortoiseshell she-cat froze, her expression unreadable for a moment. I knew I shouldn't have snapped at her, and wasn't even sure why I did, but I swallowed my last mouthful of sparrow and got to my paws, immediately moving as far away from her as possible.

"Be careful today!" a cheerful voice sounded at my shoulder. I brushed my pelt against Frozenpaw, sighing down at my nephew. Every time I was sent to draft he came to wish me luck before I left. It normally brightened my day and made me feel invincible, like I couldn't possibly be killed with my nephew's luck fresh on my fur. But today it only made me feel some deep, dreading feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Thanks, kid." He licked my shoulder before dashing off to leap on Aspenpaw.

"You coming, Coldfrost?" Pineshade called from the entrance to camp. My draft was waiting, tails and ears flicking with impatience. I bounded over to join them with a quick nod, and one by one the soldiers slipped through the dense bramble tunnel, streaking off to the FrostClan war-zone.

The war-zone was a long, wide clearing in the trees between the two territories. I could smell the other three Clans as my draft and I crouch behind some bushes at the edge of the zone, hidden from sight. This was how the draft for the day always started; all Clans hiding before one decided to step into sight. Then the others rushed out yowling and spitting and claws flashing.

I crouched low in the grass behind the bushes, pelt crawling with the nerves of waiting. There was a low grumbling sound as Sedgeleaf growled low in her throat. I twitched my tail-tip over her muzzle, shooting her a stern look, and she swallowed against the sounds, but her pelt was still spiked.

My paws began to tingle, and I suddenly knew I couldn't sit still and wait for another Clan to make the first move. I got to my paws, keeping my shoulders hunched so I was still in the cover of the bushes, and motioned to my patrol. They all perked their ears and followed my lead, paws shifting with anticipation and tails lashing.

I ran. Initial speed when starting the war for the day was important. I sped across the clearing, yowling like a lion, digging my claws into the ground to give myself extra leverage. I could sense my patrol behind me, Pineshade keeping speed with me, and could see the other Clans advancing as well, their yowls and screeches joining the noise my soldiers were making.

I slammed into my first opponent and wasted no time in laying into it with my claws. The scent told me it was DustClan. I sank my teeth into the first thing I could, and heard a pained shriek over my head, felt a paw clout my shoulder but the angle was wrong and there was no strength behind the blow. Realizing it was a hind leg I had in my jaws, I shook my head wildly, trying to unbalance the cat. It staggered and collapsed on its flank, thrashing wildly to try to get free. Its other hind paw clipped my jaw and a second blow quickly slashed down my chest. I felt the first wound of the day begin to leak blood down my fur and I released my hold, leaping back to avoid getting kicked again before pouncing on top of the enemy.

I landed a hard blow on the cat's head, and it went still, dazed. Its eyes were blank and clouded as it tried to get its bearings back, and I took the opportunity to leap on it's back, pressing its face into the dirt, and tore at its shoulders with my claws. While the cat was around the same size as me, it had about only half of my muscle capacity; it could hardly move as I let my whole weight pin it to the ground and hold it in place. I sank my teeth into the thick fur around its neck, biting down hard, trying to find the vein that would ensure a quick death if pierced. My jaws flooded with the hot, salty taste of blood, and I fought back against a gag and continued to bite, unable to get a decent killing wound in at the strange angle.

Before I could finish off the cat underneath me, I felt teeth wrap around my tail, yanking me sharply off my opponent. I yowled, twisting as I pulled my tail free, lashing out at the second cat's eyes. With a wail the cat fell back, and I whipped around just in time to see my first opponent crawling desperately to the sidelines of the war-zone, spattering blood on the grass with every cough. I turned back to my opponent with a snarl, crouching low and springing forward with deadly precision.

The day dragged on in much the same fashion. Endless fighting. Yowls and hard blows and claws tearing through fur and flesh until the cat dropped dead or fled. The draft usually raged on until only one Clan was still standing, the rest of the other three Clans' drafts having fled for home. Fighting got harder as the ground became slick with blood, your paws slipping with every movement and making it harder to execute fighting moves. After a while technique was lost and you were simply clawing and biting for your life hoping the cat in front of you dropped dead.

My mind blanked out as the sun began it's descent, and I didn't notice anything about the fights I got in. All I knew was that when the sky was turning orange, on the verge of sunset, the last cat I held in my claws wriggled it's way free and ran for cover, and another one didn't replace it.

I turned my head, realizing it was MistClan that had won the war for the day. Sedgeleaf was no where in sight, but the bushes on our side of the war-zone boundary rustled and the dark-pelted she-cat limped out, holding her forepaw high off the ground and moving stiffly. It was clear that she'd been pretty badly injured and though she had sat out from the fight hadn't left for home. Crowfur's pelt was badly torn, showing bloody scratches, and Firehawk's eye was swollen shut. I wasn't sure how badly I was injured but I knew we had to get home soon. There were three bodies lying in the clearing; two FrostClan cats and a DustClan. After a quick glance to make sure neither of the FrostClan cats were Rockfoot, I signaled with my tail for the MistClan cats to head back to camp so the other Clans could come to collect their dead.

I knew something was wrong the moment we slipped into camp from the tunnel. Stoneleap was crouched by the fresh-kill pile, the remnants of a meal at his paws and his eyes turned to the red clouds, lost in thought. Other than that, the camp was empty. Normally the cats that had stayed behind for the day would be out lounging around waiting for the drafts to get home, everyone mingling together. By the scents by the tunnel and the patter of fresh blood, it was clear that we were probably the last draft to get home, yet there were no injured soldiers around waiting to get treatment. The only cats in the camp other than Stoneleap were the four elders, crowded together in a group on the wide flat stone near their den that held the warmth of the sun long after night had fallen. They were muttering quietly, and Bluebreeze lifted her graying head to fix me with a pale watery gaze as I limped over to Stoneleap.

"Where is everyone?" I asked him while the other cats grabbed fresh-kill and headed off to their dens, unconcerned by the absense of the rest of the Clan. Stoneleap jumped slightly as if I had startled him, and he sat up, his head hanging slightly.

"Rosepelt and Graystream never came home after their walk yesterday," he muttered, and my ears flicked up in surprise. "The rain went on till late last night so we all assumed they had just sheltered until it was safe to come home. But after drafts were sent out this morning the other queens realized they were still gone. We sent out the cats that hadn't gone on draft to search for them...but they still haven't been found." Cold dread settled in my belly, making my pelt crawl. It was rare for cats not to die during a draft. Two queens disappearing in the middle of a storm was a chilling event.

"So the cats returning from draft went out, too?" I thought about Duskwing and Pebblefur, mates to the two she-cats that had been on draft today. Stoneleap nodded.

"I gave them all the option to stay and get fed and treated but they all offered to help look. Every single warrior is gone from camp except your draft that just got back and Fallenrose. She offered to stay behind and watch the kits so that the other queens could join the search patrol." I felt a ripple of surprise at the fact that Fallenrose had stayed behind to watch after the kits, and my surprise was reflected in Stoneleap's eyes. He couldn't see the prickly she-cat as having the compassion necessary to care for five litters of kits, two of which belonged to two mothers who had been missing for over a day. Ignoring the tempting scents of the fresh-kill, I dipped my head to Stoneleap and crossed the clearing to the nursery, ducking inside the warm den.

Where I had expected to find Fallenrose buried under the kits who were demanding to be played with, I found all the kits curled up lethargically in their nests. None of them made a sound or twitched a muscle when I entered the den, and Graystream and Rosepelt's kits were hunched up in their nests, eyes huge with distress. Fallenrose was sitting in the far corner of the den, rapidly licking the dark tortoiseshell fur of her chest. Her ears pricked up at my entrance, and she lifted her head at me, calling out a soft greeting.

"You've been here all day?" I asked after nodding in greeting and licking Leopardkit over the ear when the dark brown tabby she-kit lifted her head weakly to blink at me.

"Since just after sunhigh," Fallenrose answered, getting to her paws to sniff gently at Hailkit, who had fallen into a fitfull sleep, twitching and mewing pitifully in her sleep. "I went out with a hunting patrol just after you left and when we got back we found out about the queens. The rest of my hunting patrol went out but I offered to stay in the nursery to let Poppyheart, Daisycloud and Frostcloud go out to look." She shot me an awkward look, and with a jolt I remembered, regretfully, snapping at her before I left this morning.

"Did...did you see..." she left the question unfinished, and I shrugged helplessly.

"I wasn't paying attention, Fallenrose. You know how it is. If he was there today, I didn't notice. I can guarantee he wasn't dead at the end of the day though." She nodded mutely and went back to nuzzling the kits in their nests, murmuring softly to them. I felt the urge to apologize and make up for my behaviour this morning, and I slipped out of the den, hurrying across to the fresh-kill pile. I wasn't sure how hungry the kits would be, but I scooped up a couple of mice for them and a plump fat rabbit for Fallenrose and I to share, struggling to drag the haul of prey back to the nursery.

I dropped the mice in the center of the ring of kits, and Thistlekit's nose twitched, his eyes opening slowly at the warm scent of mouse. He crawled forward on his belly until he could tear off a chunk and retreated back to his nest. The other kits didn't move, and I carried the rabbit over to Fallenrose, who looked up at me curiously.

"Want to share?" She dipped her head gratefully without a word and sank her teeth into the prey. I hung back for a moment, watching the subdued kits ignoring the prey, save for Thistlekit. The little tabby was gnawing at the mouse but halfheartedly, as if he were only eating because of the tempting scents, not that his belly was rumbling at all with hunger.

"I hope the queens are found," I muttered to Fallenrose, and the tortoiseshell twitched her whiskers in agreement.

"Those kits are too young to lose their mothers," she commented, motioning with her tail to Graystream's twins, Hailkit and Snowkit, and Rosepelt's three kits. I nodded, sadness sweeping through me at the thought of them having to be given to adoptive queens so young. It made me think of Frozenpaw, who was no doubt out with the search party, his mother ripped away from him when he was little.

"If the two are gone for good, though, it'll make them strong," I murmured, thinking about my nephew's tough interior hidden by a bubbly energetic exterior. He had already endured one of the worst possible scenarios when he was so young that he could take on any challenge or burden without a second thought. Fallenrose shot me a look but said nothing, taking another bite of the rabbit.

I was about to join her in eating the meal when I heard a yowl, muffled by the den walls. It wasn't a yowl for help, just a greeting. I exchanged a look with Fallenrose before scrambling out into the clearing, leaving her with the kits again.

The search parties were returning, most cats weighed down with fresh-kill. But by the dull look in the first cats' eyes to emerge into the clearing, it was clear that prey was the only thing to be found in the forest. My heart sank, and I murmured greetings to Lakeheart, Beechfall and Shadepaw as they ducked through the tunnel, depositing their fresh-kill and collapsing in the clearing, obviously exhausted. Pebblefur, Petalheart, Cinderfoot and Goldpaw followed shortly after, Pebblefur and Cinderfoot bearing the wounds of draft, crusted over with blood. Goldpaw dipped her head to me, and I flicked the young cat over the ear. Within a few more moments the rest of the patrols returned to camp - none of them guiding the missing queens.

Stoneleap's eyes darkened as he watched the fresh-kill pile grow but his hope dwindle away. The clearing was full of exhausted cats that had worked their tails off all day, not even having the energy to go to their dens. It was silent other than the sounds of gentle breathing and the shuffle of paws on the sandy ground. Stoneleap gave a heavy sigh and gave a small nod, heading to Wolfstar's den to alert the leader that the searches had been fruitless.

"No one found anything?" I asked the gathered soldiers and apprentices. There were scattered head shakes, and my stomach sank.

"Not a single whiff of either of their scents," Frostcloud murmured, lapping at her shoulder where a thorn had scratched her and left a line of blood.

"Not a scrap of fur caught on a bramble," Pebblefur added, his eyes dark and tail drooping, obviously distraught and missing his mate Rosepelt. Duskwing, mate to Graystream, grunted agreement and closed his eyes, leaning his head miserably on his forepaws.

There was a quiet mewling and crying from the nursery, and Frostcloud, Daisycloud and Poppyheart got to their paws in sync, moving towards the den quickly. Pebblefur nudged Duskwing gently to his paws and the two toms followed after the queens to visit with their kits.

Stoneleap emerged from Wolfstar's den, the small white leader following with a grim expression. Her intense blue eyes flickered over me momentarily, giving me a look I couldn't decipher, before she launched herself into the lowest branch of a spindly tree growing in the barrier of the camp where she made announcements and held ceremonies. Wolfstar stared out at the gathered cats for a moment, and her chest heaved with a long sigh.

"As you all know, Graystream and Rosepelt went out for a walk last afternoon and did not return." The three queens and two soldiers that had gone to the nursery padded out to sit in front of the entrance to the den where they could listen to their leader and keep an eye on the kits. Fallenrose emerged a moment later and bounded across the clearing to sit beside Hailfeather.

"The majority of our cats have been out in the forest searching for them since it was discovered that they hadn't come home," Wolfstar continued, her ears twitching. "No cat found any evidence of the two she-cats. All scents or prints were washed away by last night's rain. We have no clues as to where the queens could be - but I deeply suspect if they were still alive, they would have found a way to come home to their kits by now. It is with a heavy heart that I declare that tomorrow's search parties will be looking for bodies, not living rescuable cats."