a|n:: If things had continued on their projected path towards the end of FE, Ivypool (then Ivypaw) would undoubtedly have become the first proper female antagonist in the series. Spurred on by her sense of worthlessness and jealousy, she would have been one of the mastheads of the entire DF vs SC war. The plot would have become more and more complicated, especially for Dovewing, who would have had to choose between her sister, or the fate of the Clans.

Of course, that was not meant to be. :'C

But at least it makes for a good "what if?" fanfiction idea. This takes place about... let's say a year after Ivypool's initial apprenticeship. Somewhere there, anyway. All of the events from the books after FE are completely null and void. I really, really would love to hear feedback on this, plotwise especially. Thanks for reading! ^_^

With the gloom of the Place of No Stars as her Cloak, Ivypool raced through the unfamiliar forest. She was just beyond ShadowClan territory, far away from where a good ThunderClan shecat should be at this time of night. The darkness of the moonless night held no affect on her; as long as she stayed out of the starlight, no one would be able to recognize her, and she had spent more time in near pitch-black environments than anyone else her age had. No one else had trained as hard as the silver-white streak that was flying through the wet underbrush. Where other cats tripped and stumbled in the dark, she bounded over such obstacles with ease. Yes, she felt that she was perfectly agile, which she attributed to a combination of her slim frame and natural ability. The only thing she was worried about at the moment was her speed. She was anything but the fastest cat in her league––a thousand curses upon those WindClanners!––and she needed desperately to improve. And she did, of course. She had come a long way from the stumbling apprentice who could hardly keep up with her mentors. Now she could keep up with them easily, and on a good day, she could give them a run for their money.

But of course, good enough then was never good enough now.

The chill autumn air rasped in and out of her sore throat, keeping time with her frantic pawsteps. She leapt over a fallen log, grinning for a moment as she thought of Dovewing, who still had to struggle with her short legs. Thankfully, Ivypool had inherited her father's long, elegant legs and not her mother's mediocre set. But a chill ran down her spine, spurring her onwards. Not risking a glance behind her, she barreled through the ferns, shivering violently as she accidentally brushed a rainwater laden frond. From behind her, she could just barely hear the sounds of several sets of pawsteps, growing steadily louder as their owners crashed through the undergrowth.

Foxdung... she swore to herself, narrowing her azure eyes. I'm going to fail this...and if I fail this, they'll beat me up first, tear me into little pieces, and then scatter my remains from here to RiverClan!

Ivypool weaved around a mass of nettles. She heard her perusers tear through the ferns that she had passed just moments ago.

Should she turn around now? Was there any point in prolonging the inevitable? She was winded, and her legs were aching horribly at this point. If she could run further on, would she get to the border in time? In her mind's eye, she judged the distance from where she was to the border. No, it was much too far. Since surrender wasn't an option, her only choice was to face them.

Ivypool sprinted ahead for a few paces, then caught sight of a low hanging branch. Without a sound, she propelled herself up, managing to cling onto the rotting bark. For a second, her tail rested in a single shaft of starlight until she noticed and hastily swept it closer to her. There was no need for someone to recognize her for this mission. The musty scent of the tree filled her nostrils, and she stifled a sneeze. A split second later, three shadowy shapes came into view. Narrowing her eyes, she jumped from her perch with a scream, landing squarely on the largest form. The cat writhed around, flipping over onto its back. But Ivypool knew better than to fall for the trick, and she rolled onto the ground, springing back to her paws. She faced the three cats, her lip curling in a snarl and her chest heaving, having still not recovered from her race.

She examined them, taking in their appearances swiftly, as she was trained to do. All three cats were bathed in shadow, larger than her, and had no visible disabilities.

Brilliant.

With a screech, she launched herself at the foremost of the cats, clawing tufts of fur and lacerating its flank. Hissing, the cat retaliates by knocking a mammoth paw to the side of her face, bringing stars to her vision. Trying to overcome her daze, she staggers back after feebly clawing the cat's shoulder, surprisingly drawing blood. The other two cats leap into the fray, pinning Ivypool down.

As she wrests out of their grasp, she coughs, wheezes, rasps. She makes a note to ask Breezepelt on strategies for recovery. A second later, she's crushed to the moist earth under a weight that came up from behind her. So all formalities of traditional battle were to be suddenly abandoned? Not that she minded fighting dirty, but it was just that it confused her even more. Who exactly was she fighting? Not her usual enemies, to be sure.

She screeches, twisting around and aiming blow at the cat's throat. She gasps as her claws leave bloody streaks in the raven fur of her opponent. Too stunned to move, she remains there even as the cat reels back, a watery moan pouring from its throat. The other two cats pause, their eyes wide as their comrade falls to the floor, into the only starlit patch of ground. The cat's fur seems to shimmer and shift before Ivypool's eyes, turning a bright russet, instead of the gloomy black that it had been originally.

What have I done? she gasps, staring at the blood that is beginning to pool around the cat, who she can now recognize as Molepaw, one of her fellow trainees and an apprentice from her Clan. Dovewing's apprentice. Without a second thought, she bounds towards the dying cat, merging with the starlight and spinning around to face her opponents.

"Stop!" she rasps as below her, Moleplaw shifts slightly, gasping for breath. She pays him no mind; she's in hot water already, ignoring direct orders to not, under any circumstance, walk in starlight for this night. Any show of mercy would only bring their wrath upon her.

"Ivypool?" mews one of them, coming forwards. She can't recognize the monotone voice until the cat joins her in the light. The shadows melt off his lean body, revealing a pair of bright gold eyes and sleek ebony fur. Breezepelt. She crouches immediately, offering the formalities due to an older warrior. He bends down, resting his chin upon her head briefly to complete the ritual, and a whisper flies from his mouth in his normal voice; "Good fight, my star."

Ivypool smothers a purr, standing up again, trying to ignore Molepaw's labored breathing. Breezepelt stands next to her as the other cat steps forwards, but not into the starlight. Instead, the shadows disguising its markings and eye color disappear, revealing a muscular tabby with smoldering amber eyes.

"You're not surprised?" he hisses, standing in front of Ivypool, who sinks immediately to a low crouch.

"I...I heard rumors." she stutters, her eyes cast on the blood that's seeping into the soft fur on her paws. She realizes briefly that she can hardly hear Molepaw's breathing. "It was rumored that this "mission" wasn't real, that it was an assessment...not that I believed them! I didn't really expect this, not that much." she adds quickly, stuttering slightly on the last phrase.

Tigerstar looms over her, his eyes narrowed. "Who did you hear this from?" he growls.

Frantically rifling through her thoughts for a better alternative than the truth, she feels warm blood soaking the tip of her tail. "Molepaw," she answers. Tigerstar's eyes narrow even further, and she's left crouching in a pool of blood, her legs aching. Why won't he recognize her, so that she can stand? Out of the corner of her eye, Breezepelt casts her a sympathetic look, but she disregards it for the moment. Technically, this was all his fault. If he hadn't told her those stupid rumors, she would be sufficiently surprised and would probably be on her way home by now.

"I think," drawls Tigerstar, glancing up at the sky. "I think that you're lying, but you happen to be a good liar. So I'll believe you. Good liars are of use to me, just as long as they know who's side they're on."

He meets Ivypool's eye and nods. She stands, resisting the urge to stretch.

"You didn't fail." he adds.

"Oh, that's good!" she lies. Ivypool isn't impressed. She's been told this before and still found herself in Mapleshade's remedial classes, which were something to be feared. Nonchalantly, she glances down at Molepaw's limp form. "So, should we––"

"––Breezepelt, your opinion?" said Tigerstar, cutting Ivypool off. Slightly irked, Ivypool glares at Breezepelt. She can't glare at Tigerstar without risking the loss of an eye, so Breezepelt was a much better alternative.

Casting a quizzical look at Ivypool, Breezepelt answers. "He was weak, and he deserved it. He had a chance to outfight her, or to follow through with the mission and kill her––"

An icy chill runs down Ivypool's spine. Were they really trying to kill her not five minutes ago?

––"so, I think that the logical thing to do would be to leave him here."

"And Ivypool...?"

"Agreed."

Tigerstar smiles, amusement glinting in his eyes. "For a moment there, Ivypool, I thought that you were about to disagree. I see my son has taught you well."

Warmth floods Ivypool at his indirect praise. "He learned from the best," she meowed, struggling to filter the pride from her voice. Next to her, Breezepelt shifts his weight from his right side to his left. The movement isn't gone unnoticed.

"I think that the two of you had best head home. Breezepelt here seems to be aching over from his injuries." he glances at the sky again. "The sun is rising, too. It's a pity. I miss walking on the earth, and just one night a month really doesn't satisfy my desire."

Dismissed, Ivypool and Breezepelt slink back into the shadows, setting off at a lope towards the ThunderClan border. Ivypool thinks about Molepaw. He wasn't such a bad cat, not nearly as annoying as his father or mentor, and he was smart, too. He knew which side to choose from the beginning.

"I'm sorry, Ivypool." murmurs Breezepelt. Ivypool glances at him, hardly able to see him in the darkness. She sniffs, refocusing on the path ahead of them. Her head still aches from the blow she received. "I said that I was sorry."

They leap as one over a fallen log, landing with light feet on the other side. What is Ivypool going to do? It's too suspicious––one warrior out for a night hunt and an apprentice showing up dead. What alibis could she use? Could anyone else in her Clan vouch for her? Normally, Molepaw would be the one who would help explain her random absences, but now he was gone.

"Ivypool..."

They're skirting the edge of ShadowClan's border; they should arrive at ThunderClan's territory in a moment. Maybe she could say that she followed Molepaw out of camp, not knowing where he was going, and then discovered his body. But wait...she didn't have his body with her. Oh, wait, she could probably say that his killers were there, and that there were too many of them to fight, so she ran back to camp. That would work. But still...how to break the news to the Clan?

"Can't you respond?"

The towering pine trees are beginning to give way to the brilliant golds and rubies of the autumn deciduous trees, and the ground underfoot is scattered with leaves. She should come into camp running, out of breath and wild eyed. Maybe she could get the entire Clan to galavant across the forest, leaving the camp defenseless. Then she could find a way to communicate to her mentors in The Place of No Stars and get a battle set up. It would be stilted, of course, and she would come out of it as the heroine of ThunderClan.

"Answer me!" snarls Breezepelt, suddenly leaping towards Ivypool, knocking her down. Screeching in shock, Ivypool pushes him off, knocking him into the dead leaves. He rebounds just as quickly, lunging at her again. Eyes wide, she rears onto her hind legs, meeting him in the air. Is he serious? His paws grip her shoulders, claws extended, and they both try and wrest the other to the ground. The leaves make both of their paws skid and slid, and ultimately, Breezepelt is the first to lose his balance. Ivypool pushes him to the ground, pinning him down.

"What is wrong with you?" she growls, her eyes blazing. For a moment, Breezepelt struggles, hissing, but then gives in, laying limp. "Can't you just...just..."

"Look, just respond when I'm talking to you." he said bluntly, blinking up at her, only a trace of fury left in his eyes. He pauses, then looks away. "I have enough of the silent treatment at home."

Ivypool blinks, recoiling slightly, as though struck in the face. Then she sighs, pressing her cheek to his. "I'm sorry," she whispers, feeling his sweet breath warm her face. "I...I just had a lot on my mind."

He closes his eyes, enjoying their closeness, a comfort that, Ivypool had learned, was absent in his immediate family ever since he left the nursery.

"If only I could see you everyday..." he purrs, gently smoothing the fluffed silver fur along Ivypool's cheekbone with his pale pink tongue. "...and only if your Clan could see us now in this... compromising position."

"Way to ruin a moment." Ivypool rolls her eyes, and unpins Breezepelt. He stands, shaking the fiery leaves from his coal colored pelt. "And anyways, this wasn't that insinuating and I always have an alibi ready."

"Oh really? Give me one."

"I caught you sneaking around our border, so I attacked, but I was hypnotized by your stunning eyes. " A quick glance towards the east told Ivypool that it was time to leave. "Dawn's coming soon, and our Cloaks won't hide our scents for very long. I really have to get going."

"They'll last a little longer," mewed Breezepelt, circling Ivypool. "It's still the night of a new moon, so––"

"I need to get back. Now. I want to see if I can avoid having to make a huge scene so I'm not tagged as Molepaw's murderess."

Breezepelt tilts his head, looking at her inquisitively.

"What?" snaps Ivypool, twitching her tail.

"You seems pretty unfazed by his death. Like you don't even care. You didn't run to him to see if he was still alive, either. It was just to save your own skin. Anyone would think that you'd be a little more...oh, I don't know, guilty?"

"Maybe the living nursery-tales we hang out with in our dreams are beginning to rub off on me." she retorted, slightly abashed. It wasn't as though she could just dredge up emotion for no reason and without a situation that prompted it. But now he was going to judge her by it...call her cold and unfeeling in his mind. She was never going to be good enough, not for him, and not for anyone, it seemed. I'm just going to have to keep improving... she thought ruefully.

But to her surprise, Breezepelt just laughed and twined his tail with hers. "Oh, don't sound so putout. It's just another thing that I love about you. I don't need someone who's constantly moaning and groaning about every little mistake. I suppose you do have to go...I'll run with you all the way to your border. Unlike you, I don't even need a lie to use as an excuse. Everyone's used to me coming in and out of the camp at odd hours."

"Then quit talking, and let's go." she purred, running ahead of him into the light of the dawn.