Long suffer

I must die.

There was silence.

I will die.

The moon rose and fell, and still the tom was silent.

Come to us, Graystripe.

Graystripe shook his head violently.

He heard Silverstream's laughter behind him; yet he could not turn around to look.

You must repent, Graystripe.

It was his mentor, Lionheart. The golden tom whispered in his ear:

You have done wrong, but you can still right it.

Graystripe heard another voice join Silverstream's. Feathertail.

Please, Graystripe.

Graystripe shook his head again. He felt claws ripping down his back. It was Squirrelflight.

Graystripe, come! she whispered. Or much worse will happen to you than this!

Graystripe was relenting, but there was still defiance in his yellow eyes. His flank was torn and bloody, his paws rough and scratched.

Please, my friend.

Firestar? thought Graystripe, trying to see his best friend.

You must repent, Graystripe. Or you will never see any of us. Not me, not Silverstream, not either of your children.

Stormfur is dead too?

You killed him, remember?

Graystripe shuddered. He remembered too much.

"Graystripe, over here!"

Stormfur's gray fur, just like Graystripe's, was caked with blood. Behind him was Firestar. Both toms looked frantic.

"Come on, Graystripe!" yowled Firestar. "Come on, Sandstorm!"

Sandstorm had been right behind Graystripe.

And then it had happened.

Graystripe had turned around and swiped at Sandstorm, sending blood rushing out of her stomach.

She had never moved again.

Stormfur had dashed forward, and Graystripe's claws had killed him, too.

"Graystripe, what are you doing?"

Firestar had dashed forward. Dashed forward to fight his best friend.

Claws had clashed; teeth had bitten.

But in the end, Graystripe's Tigerstar-like power had won.

Firestar had died.

Graystripe, if you can repent, I will forgive you for killing me.

Sandstorm?

Yes, Graystripe.

Graystripe stared at the barren landscape around him: it was like WindClan's moorland, dry and grassy—and then he saw it.

Dark trees loomed.

And padding towards him calmly was Tigerstar.

Beside him was Hawkfrost.

Graystripe tried to look at Firestar one last time. But he could not turn.

Come, Graystripe! Come to your rightful land. We are proud of you, called Tigerstar. You have done well.

And then Graystripe made his decision.

I'll come with you, Firestar!

Firestar's flame-colored paws were suddenly there, embracing him and welcoming him to StarClan. Around him were all the cats he had longed to see for so long—Silverstream, Firestar, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Sandstorm…even Crowfeather was there, but probably just because of Leafpool.

His children were there too.

Feathertail and Stormfur padded up to him.

"Father," whispered Feathertail. "If you choose to walk with ThunderClan, I will not care."

Stormfur nodded in agreement. "We can visit you. But Silverstream will be heartbroken."

Graystripe was puzzled. "What?"

Firestar turned to Graystripe. Finally the two friends stared at each other.

"Graystripe," he meowed, "you must choose which Clan to hunt with."

Graystripe was aghast. "But don't all StarClan cats hunt together?"

"I wish it was so," sighed Firestar.

Graystripe turned to Silverstream. "I'm sorry, Firestar. But I must go with my family."

Firestar's bright green eyes dulled. He had obviously been hoping that Graystripe would choose to stay with him.

"All right, then," he meowed softly, then turned away. Sandstorm put her tail around his shoulders.

Graystripe realized he would never see his best friend again. Memories began to rush through his mind.

"You stalk like a lopsided badger!"… "Are you okay, Graypaw?" "Mrrow! I've eaten too much!"… The same cat, his face alight with fear as Clawface tackled him…the same cat, appointing Graystripe to be his deputy…

"Wait! Firestar!"
Firestar turned and looked at him. "What is it?" His voice was cold.

"I…I want to come with you. My children can visit me, can't they?"

Firestar nodded. "But your mate cannot."

"Oh."

But Graystripe thought again of his apprenticeship, and all the fun he had had with Firestar—then Firepaw.

"I still want to come with you!" he yowled. Then her turned to Silverstream.

"Goodbye."

"Goodbye," whispered Silverstream.

Then she was gone with her kits. And Graystripe was left alone. He turned to Firestar.

Warmth spread across the tomcat's face, and his green eyes were alight with happiness.

"Well chosen, my friend."

Both cats walked off to ThunderClan's territory, tails entwined.

Finally back together.

Down below in the forest, two cats swished around a still gray form.

"Too bad he died," meowed one. "He could have been very useful. He killed Firestar!"

"Take his body away," meowed the other. "He is gone."

But both of them heard Graystripe's unmistakable, "Stupid fur-ball!"