A/N: So, here's Chapter 2! Hope you guys like it! As for review replies...
sandflight2 - Thanks! Hope you like this one too.
Sandpaw basically spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly through the territory, moping and swearing her revenge and undying hate of RiverClan. At one point she laid beneath a bush for hours, grappling with the sorrow that threatened to crush her. No one bothered her, or came looking for her. Not even Brindleface. But the next day, Whitestorm and Darkstripe were outside the den to take her training. Wait... Whitestorm and Darkstripe? Then it dawned on her. "H-He's your new mentor?" she whispered to Dustpaw, flicking her tail to the latter warrior. Dustpaw nodded, his amber eyes dull, and slid out of the den with Sandpaw on his paws.
Whitestorm gazed at her with gentle yellow eyes and mewed, "Let's go."
Suddenly Sandpaw didn't want to spend a day out in the forest, working and training and learning like normal. It just didn't seem right. "W-Wait!" she blurted out. Whitestorm turned to her questioningly.
The words just tumbled out. "I-I promised Frostfur I would take care of her bedding." She was lucky that Frostfur had just poked her head out of the nursery, looking for someone. Probably her mate Lionheart, but nonetheless.
Darkstripe snorted, but Whitestorm's eyes softened and he nodded. Sandpaw had to restrain herself from hissing, I don't want your pity!
The remaining three cats left and Sandpaw was left sitting alone in the camp, her mind totally blank. She sighed and heaved herself to her paws; she'd better clean out that bedding, or someone (probably Darkstripe) would figure out she hadn't.
When Sandpaw entered the nursery, Frostfur was suckling her two little kits. Goldenflower had forced a squealing Swiftkit to let her wash him. And Speckletail, the Permanent Nursery Queen (or PNQ, as she and Dustpaw liked to call them), was dozing, her yellow eyes half-closed. "What is it, Sandpaw?" asked Frostfur drowsily.
"I've, er, come to change out your bedding," she mewed hastily.
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"That's kind of you," Goldenflower yawned. "Come along now, Swiftkit, let's get out of their way."
"O-tay!" chirped Swiftkit in his cute little two-moon-old voice. He trotted after his mother as they exited the nursery.
Sandpaw lingered for a moment over Frostfur's tiny kits, no more than a moon old. Brackenkit was a golden-brown tabby so much like his father, Lionheart, and Cinderkit was dark gray and fluffy like her mother. So sweet and innocent. So unknowing of the great warrior whom had died only two days ago.
She started scooping Goldenflower's moss into a rough, lopsided ball, which she then dragged out of the nursery. She left it in a heap outside the thornbush, meaning to pick it up later and dispose of it in the forest. As she returned for Speckletail's nest, Frostfur sighed quietly. "The kits were screechin gwhen they brought Redtail back." Sandpaw's moss suddenly tore into the moss she had been carefully gathering. So it's all about them, is it? "I'm very sorry for your loss, Sandpaw."
She wanted to screech. Pity is even worse! She leaped suddenly to her paws, unable to stay in the nursery a moment longer. "I'm going to get some new moss!" she burst out, barely concealing her angerm and raced out of the camp like her paws were on fire. She ran blindly, tears blurring her vision although she fought them back. Finally her legs burned and her lungs screamed for air. Finally she stumbled to a stop, her sides heaving. When the world came into focus, she let out a furious hiss.
She was at the Sunningrocks. Which were now RiverClan's.
Suddenly she knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to march straight into RiverClan territory and make them pay for what they had done.
She strode up to the riverbank in search of the steppingstones. The river had swelled with newleaf rain, and cold dark water lapped at the muddy shore. Finally she located the smooth, dew-sprayed stones, peeking out from the current. Smaller, but there. Just as she leaped onto the first steppingstone, a voice called out from behind her, making her fur bristle. "What are you doing?"
It was Dustpaw, his inquisitive tabby-striped face framed by dew-freckled ferns.
"Where are Whitestorm and Darkstripe?" asked Sandpaw warily.
He flicked his ear. "Whitestorm joined a hunting patrol. Tigerclaw and Ravenpaw came to train with us, and my brother was getting really annoying, what with his hurt shoulder and all, so I told Darkstripe I had to make dirt." He leveled his amber gaze with hers. "Now tell me, Sandpaw, what are you doing?"
Sandpaw huffed in annoyance, but she pretty much had to tell him now, even if she didn't want him poking into her personal business. "Fine, Dustpaw. I'm going to RiverClan territory so I can make them pay for what they did to my father." A snarl entered her voice in the last few words.
Dustpaw's ears pricked, his eyes widening. Then a look of stubbornness set onto his face and he mewed, "I'm coming, too."
I knew it! thought Sandpaw sourly. "No, Dustpaw. It's personal." She could barely conceal her annoyance.
"Redtail was my mentor, you know," the brown apprentice pointed out stubbornly. "And Darkstripe will come looking for me soon. He'll see. In fact, he's probably on his way right now." He cocked his head to one side, as if hearing Darkstripe's approaching pawsteps at that very moment.
"Fine," she sighed. Guess I can't get rid of him. "Come on."
They crossed the steppingstones as quickly as they were able. The smallish gray rocks were dark with wetness, and Sandpaw kept her claws out the whole way, searching for purchase on the smooth stone. She stumbled once, but was quickly helped up by Dustpaw. As soon as they touched the opposite bank, the pair dove into a clump of ferns.
Sandpaw felt a tingle of excitement at being on enemy territory, and Dustpaw's eyes were bright with exhilaration as he asked, "So what now?"
"Um..." Sandpaw hadn't actually thought that far ahead. "We attack the next patrol that comes along." Dustpaw nodded determinedly, and the two crouched low in the damp ferns.
Turns out they didn't have to wait long, as soon a RiverClan patrol neared, their voices loud and confident... having no idea they were about to be ambushed. "We totally destroyed ThunderClan in that battle a couple days ago," a gray apprentice boasted.
"We should go rest on them now," the other apprentice, a tortoiseshell she-cat, purred.
"Yes, but we lost Oakheart in that battle," a pretty silver tabby chided. "And this is a border patrol, not a relaxation patrol!" The two apprentices muttered muffled "yes, Silverstream"s.
Sandpaw flicked her tail to Dustpaw, and they exploded out of the ferns with loud battle cries. The three RiverClan cats shrieked in surprise as the ThunderClan apprentices descended upon them. Sandpaw landed on he tortoiseshell apprentice - Sandpaw recognized her as Mosspaw, from Gatherings - and battered her shoulders with thorn-sharp claws. Filled with adrenaline, she ricocheted off of Mosspaw and knocked the gray tom to the ground, pinning him. "For Redtail!" she yowled, and sank her teeth deep into his shoulder.
"Heavypaw!" cried Silverstream. She wrenched herself from Dustpaw and knocked Sandpaw aside, pinning the pale tabby easily. Sandpaw screeched as the silver tabby raked her belly, but Sandpaw lunged and bit the warrior's foreleg. While Silverstream was distracted, she pulled herself away and escaped.
As Dustpaw sent Mosspaw wailing into the bushes, Sandpaw leaped back to Heavypaw and swiped her claws down his side. Thrills ran through her. She was alive and happy and aware, avenging her father, making things right in the world once more.
"Come on, Sandpaw, we've done enough!" Dustpaw yowled, grappling with Silverstream.
"No! Not now! We can't stop now!" she roared as she dodged Heavypaw's swipe.
Suddenly a hefty paw knocked her to the ground. Then fresh RiverClan warriors were swarming around them, a proud-looking Mosspaw standing beaming among her Clanmates. In seconds, they surrounded the two ThunderClan apprentices, making a tight, intimidating ring. Their claws were unsheathed, their fangs flashing.
"Wh-What happens now?" Dustpaw stammered, pressed up to Sandpaw, his tail bushed out.
A spotted golden she-cat stepped forward, narrowing venomous amber eyes. "Now," she growled acidly, "We take you to our camp."