Whitekit blearily opened his eyes for the first time. A wash of brightness filled his eyes, and he closed them with a pained squeak.

"Whitekit," his mama purred. "Whitekit, it's all right. Open your eyes."

"A warrior," a deeper meow, one Whitekit recognized as Papa, whispered in his ear, "does not hide from pain."

"Uh-uh?" Whitekit squeaked, opening one eye a slit.

Papa chuckled and Mama purred. "Nuh-uh," he said, nudging his small body with his wet nose. "He takes it in, feels it, and moves on. You can do that, can't you?"

Whitekit shivered, but as Mama pulled him in close, he looked down at the ground and opened his eyes all the way. Brightness and darkness filled his eyes, and two faces loomed over him. "Oh, look at that, Snowfur," Papa said. "He has your eyes."

"And your toughness," Mama purred. "Right, Whitekit?"

"Whitekit," the tiny kit repeated. "Whitekit."

"Yes, that's right," Mama purred. "You're Whitekit, because your fur is white." She nudged his paw with her own. "White. This color is white."

"I'm brown!" another kit mewled, clambering up the nest and peering in curiously. "Can you say brown, Whitekit? Brown. Brown!"

Papa chuckled. "Easy there, Tigerkit," he said. "Whitekit's only just opened his eyes."

Whitekit stumbled around on his stumpy legs and followed the sound of Tigerkit's voice. He saw the chubby, round face of another cat, like Mama and Papa, but smaller. "Bruh. Bruh-n."

"Brown!" Tigerkit mewled frustratedly.

"Shhh, Tigerkit," a black cat said, picking him up by the scruff of his neck. "Whitekit's just learning how to talk. Be gentle."

"Did I sound that dumb as a kit?" Tigerkit scoffed.

"Tigerkit!" Leopardfoot hissed. "That was very rude!" She plopped him on the nursery floor, and the tiny kit let out an "oof!" of surprise. "Now, apologize to Snowfur and Thistleclaw."

Tigerkit grumbled in response, shuffling his forepaws. When Leopardfoot clicked her claws irritatedly, the young kit sighed. "I'm sorry," he sighed.

"Like you mean it," Leopardfoot pressed, twitching her tail.

"Augh, Mom, really?" Tigerkit groaned.

"Hey, now," Papa
said. "A warrior admits when they're wrong and works to do better. You want to be a good warrior, right?"

Tigerkit looked up at the gray and white tom shyly, his ears pinning back tight against his head. Whitekit thought he looked quite silly and laughed.

"That's fine, please," Mama said, waving her tail as though to cut the tension in the air. "Whitekit just needs rest."

"All right," Leopardfoot said, picking up Tigerkit in the scruff of her neck. "Good night, you three."

Tigerkit waved his forepaw at the white lump at Mama's belly. "Bye bye, Whitekit! Learn to talk soon, then we can play!"

"Wh-what do you mean, Snowfur's not coming back...?" Whitekit asked, looking up at Auntie Bluefur with wide eyes.

Auntie's blue eyes were dark with pain. "I'm so sorry, Whitekit. She... she was hit by a monster. She's dead. She's in StarClan now."

"No!" Whitekit hissed. "You're lying! Snowfur's not dead, she's not! She just doesn't love me anymore, that's why she left!" He snarled and bit Bluefur on the forepaw. "I hate you! I don't love you anymore!"

"Ouch! Whitekit, I- Hey! Whitekit! Come back here!" But Auntie's cries were fruitless, for Whitekit had already run to the back of the den, behind Robinwing and her kits.

"It's not fair," he grumbled. "Mama just doesn't love me anymore."

A familiar form slipped out from the shadows, his tabby stripes blending in to the darkness. "Whitekit?" he asked.

Whitekit flicked his eyes up. "Hey, Brown." It was his secret name for him, even though Tigerkit didn't have a special name for Whitekit.

Tigerkit usually found Whitekit to play, since Whitekit was the only other tom kit in the nursery, but Tigerkit's fiery energy seemed to dull. "What's wrong?"

"Snowfur's gone," Whitekit pouted. "Auntie says she's dead, but I don't believe her. I think Snowfur just doesn't love me anymore, and that's why she won't come back."

Tigerkit looked like the time Whitekit accidentally snapped a nettle branch on his face. "Whitekit," Tigerkit said slowly. "Bluefur isn't lying. Warriors don't ever lie."

Whitekit looked horrified. "You mean...?"

Tigerkit nodded. "Snowfur's with my sisters now."

Whitekit looked at the small amount of light filtering through the den. It looked like broken stars and moonlight, fallen right out of the sky. "So... Now what?"

"I don't know," Tigerkit said. He laid down next to his small friend, pressing their pelts together. "I don't know what it's like to lose a mama, only sisters, and you never had sisters."

Whitekit blinked. "You know, neither of us have brothers."

"Mm."

"Brown, could we be brothers?"

"Sounds good to me." Tigerkit looked at Whitekit with a charming grin, twining their tails and squeezing tight with his forepaw on top of Whitekit's paw. "Brothers to the very end, you and me!"

Tigerpaw thrashed his paws in Whitepaw's face, snarling like an angry storm cloud. "Come on, fight back! Fight me!" he taunted, his mouth curling up into a nasty grin, his amber eyes glittering with delight.

Whitepaw rolled away from him quickly, causing Patchpelt to shout, "Whitepaw, stay on your feet at all times! Do not crouch!"

"Get him, Tigerpaw, he's down!" Thistleclaw shouted nearly simultaneously.

Tigerpaw took his chance and leapt at the white apprentice, but Whitepaw always did have the better wits about him. Ignoring Patchpelt, Whitepaw stayed on his back and splayed out all his claws just as Tigerpaw was about to land. The look on Tigerpaw's face was priceless in the split second before his belly met all of Whitepaw's sharp claws.

"Ouch!" hissed Tigerpaw, thrashing until Whitepaw let him loose. "Cheater! You cheated! No claws allowed!"

"He's right, Whitepaw," Patchpelt said sternly. "That was a dirty trick."

"It was defense," Thistleclaw said. "Tigerpaw was leaping at him, Whitepaw defended himself. In battle, it's best to know a few tricks when in a dire situation."

Patchpelt flicked one of his ears dismissively. "Of course you run to his defense. He's your son. I say, Thistleclaw, why don't you let me mentor Whitepaw, and you take care of Tigerpaw, hm?"

Patchpelt's words clearly stung Thistleclaw, but he held his tongue and began to talk to Tigerpaw. Meanwhile, Whitepaw got to his feet to face Patchpelt.

"Good thinking," Patchpelt admitted, "but you did break the rules. No claws, ever."

Whitepaw hung his head. "I'm sorry, Patchpelt."

"Forgiven, but you must be disciplined. You'll fetch the elders' moss and do two hunting trips rather than one. Only after those are done may you eat."

"But that'll take all day!" moaned Whitepaw. "Can't I at least eat after my first hunting trip?"

"The rules are the rules, Whitepaw, and you don't get to bend and break them just because they work against you." He blinked. "Now clean yourself up and go, you're absolutely filthy."

Whitepaw nodded dejectedly, padding off towards the apprentices' den. He wasn't alone for long, as Tigerpaw was crashing clumsily behind him. "Hey, Whitepaw, wait up!"

Whitepaw stopped. "Yeah?"

"You were great today!" Tigerpaw said excitedly. "You really got me good! I mean, you did cheat, but wow, that was smart cheating! Better than Brindlepaw, anyway. She just flings her claws about like a swarm of bees."

Whitepaw chuckled. "Thanks. You were good too."

Tigerpaw gave him a playful shove. "Sorry about Patchpelt, he's such a bore. Your father is really cool! I'm so glad he's my mentor, he's the greatest warrior in the whole forest!"

"You think so?" Not like Whitepaw would know; Bluefur kept Whitepaw from seeing Thistleclaw after Snowfur died.

"Totally! When I grow up, I want to be just like him!" Tigerpaw swished his big, bushy tail around proudly.

Whitepaw chuckled. "You'll make a fine warrior, Brown, no matter who you idolize."

Tigerpaw looked at him. "Hey, aren't we a little old for that?"

Whitepaw flicked his ears. "Are we still brothers?"

Tigerpaw nodded.

"Then you're still Brown to me," Whitepaw said, giving his adopted brother a friendly headbutt. "Brothers to the very end."

"For the crimes of treason, conspiracy, and attempted killing of Clan leader," Bluestar's weak voice rasped, cutting the heavy silence that hung over ThunderClan, "you, Tigerclaw, will be exiled. You have until sunrise to leave ThunderClan territory. If you are spotted after that, our warriors will chase you out and kill you if necessary."

"You're a fool, Bluestar," Tigerclaw snarled. "This Clan will only thrive under my leadership." He turned to the Clan, his scars red and angry. "All those who agree with me, follow me! I will lead you to glory!"

Whitestorm watched coolly, blinking slowly as Tigerclaw looked to Darkstripe, to Longtail, and to young Dustpelt to go with him. But no one did. No one trusted Tigerclaw, not anymore.

As he was the warrior closest to the gorse tunnel, he was the last cat Tigerclaw could speak to before leaving the camp forever. "Brown," he whispered, his voice hoarse, but he did not look Tigerclaw in the eye.

Tigerclaw froze. "Brother," he said, not coldly.

"Why?" was all Whitestorm could say.

"I wanted a Clan of good warriors." Tigerclaw blinked. "You don't have to come with me. I know you're a good warrior. Your father would be proud."

Whitestorm gulped. "I'll miss you. You're the only brother I have."

"Had," Tigerclaw replied. "You don't want me as a brother anymore. I know that."

"I miss Brown."

Tigerclaw sighed. "Me too." He turned his gaze to the white warrior. "Take care of yourself, Whitestorm."

"You too."

And with that, Tigerclaw, Brown, Whitestorm's only brother, was gone. No one else knew, would know, or could ever know.

Like the light in the nursery the day Snowfur died, the light around Tigerclaw had finally broken.

It was over. Scourge of BloodClan had torn open Tigerstar's belly, and had taken all of his nine lives. It hurt him to watch - not Brown, not my brother, not him - but watch he did.

And when all had dispersed, the stench of death and fear hanging in the air like lichen, no one noticed one solitary warrior stay behind. Whitestorm crept close to the body of Tigerstar, curling up next to him behind his back, away from the massive pool of blood and guts. "Brown," he choked out. "Tigerstar."

Whitestorm pressed his nose into the scruff of Tigerstar's neck. "No one's going to keep your vigil, brother. But I'll stay for a little while, as long as I can, yeah?" Slowly, deliberately, Whitestorm licked the cold fur between Tigerstar's ears. "Brothers to the bitter end."