Greypaw was waiting by an ash tree, pacing restlessly around it's rotten trunk. Whitestorm thrust himself through the mist, his heavy paws thumping against the ground. He was soaked, muddy and his white pelt was dragging down like sodden leaves.

Firepaw was at the senior warrior's side, staying close as Whitestorm had ordered him to. Greypaw looked up and stopped pacing as soon as he saw the white warrior appear, twitching his whiskers in greeting.

"Any sign of Yellowfang?" Asked Firepaw.

Greypaw shook his head. "Not yet."

Whitestorm searched the clearing for any shapes slinking through the mist, keeping one ear on the conversation.

"We don't know how far it is to the ShadowClan camp," Firepaw said, turning to watch the warriors. Hearing a twig snap and a shadow in the distance, Whitestorm stiffened, staring out into the mist. They were faint, but he could make out the shape of cats. "She may be on her way back right now."
Greypaw shifted. Whitestorm continued to watch the shadows. "Or she might be happily sharing tongues with her ShadowClan comrades while we sit here like fools waiting to be ambushed!"

Whitestorm pried his eyes from the shadows. His ears flicked uneasily, tracing the sounds of the cats moving around them. "Firepaw?" He prompted uneasily. ShadowClan approaches.

Firepaw gazed determinedly back up at him. "She will come back," he promised.

Whitestorm suddenly turned. At the same moment, Yellowfang stalked out from behind the ash tree and sat down. "Well said, young Firepaw. You're not the only one who can sneak up on someone." Whitestorm looked over her shoulder at a dark pelt, eyes narrowed warily. "Remember the day we met? You were looking in the wrong direction that time too."

Suddenly three other ShadowClan cats stalked out from behind the tree. They settled themselves calmly on the other side of Yellowfang. Whitestorm remained calm, but he could feel the ThunderClan cats around him bristle.

Whitestorm examined each of the four ShadowClan cats. There were some that he recognised from gatherings: Nightpelt and Ashfur, but the other he had not seen before. A she-cat.

There was an uncomfortable silence that stretched out between both Clans. Firepaw was pressed against Whitestorm, seeking warmth against his large pelt, but the apprentice was nervous and fidgeting. Whitestorm was looking at Yellowfang thoughtfully. He had many questions to ask, however he knew that the time was not right for them. They had to rescue the kits, as he had promised his aunt, Bluestar.

As he was about to speak, a grey, skinny tom meowed, "We have come to help you, not to harm you. You have come for your kits; we will help you rescue them."

Whitestorm listened carefully to his words, but was not convinced. The chaos that ravaged ShadowClan like a plague made it easy to suspect that the ragtag bunch of elders and queens would want something in return.

"What's in it for you?" He asked warily.

The grey tom sighed. "We want your help to get rid of Brokenstar. He has broken the warrior code. ShadowClan is suffering."

Runningwind tensed beside him. "So it's that simple is it? We just drop into your camp, snatch the kits, kill your leader and go home."

Whitestorm cast a look at the impulsive warrior, warning him to be careful, but the grey ShadowClan tom replied, "You will not meet as much resistance as you think."

Yellowfang stood up. "Let me introduce my old friends," she meowed, weaving her way around the ShadowClan cats. She brushed past the grey tom. "This is Ashfur; he is one of the Clan elders."
"And this is Nightpelt, a senior warrior before Raggedstar was killed." She circled a battered black tom, who nodded at them. Whitestorm returned the nod.

"And this is one of our elder queens, Dawncloud. Two of her kits died driving out WindClan."

Suddenly Whitestorm felt easier around the cats. A sense of temporary trust was placed in the ShadowClan cats, hearing about Dawncloud's story. A queen who has lost her kits is a cat to be feared. Her love for her lost is stronger than any bond between clan mates, and can drive her to things many would never dream. I believe that we can trust these cats.

Dawncloud, a small tabby, stared at her paws in grief at Yellowfang's words. "I do not wish to lose any more of my kits," she meowed. Her words were filled with such conviction that Whitestorm immediately knew that he was right.

Giving his chest a quick lick to smooth down his fur, Whitestorm curled his tail around his paws. "You are clearly skilled warriors if you managed to creep up on us like that. But are there enough of you? We need to know what we'll face when we raid the ShadowClan camp."

"The old and sick of ShadowClan are slowly starving," Ashfur admitted, his voice cracking with emotion. "The casualties among out kits are more than we can cope with. ShadowClan is slowly dying and it's not just painful for those who are being forced into StarClan untimely."

Whitestorm understood. If ThunderClan was in this situation – StarClan forbid – I would be in agony just watching. No Clan deserves this.

"But if ShadowClan is a mess," Darkstripe blurted, "How come you have shown so much strength lately? And why is Brokenstar still your leader?"

"Brokenstar is surrounded by a group of elite warriors," Ashfur replied steadily. "They are the ones to fear, because they would die for him without question. The others obey his orders only because they are frightened. They will fight by his side as long as they think Brokenstar is going to win. If they thought he was going to lose..."

"They would fight against him, not for him," Darkstripe finished off the elder's words, voice laden with disgust. "What kind of loyalty is that?"

Whitestorm glared at the impulsive dark tabby. The ShadowClan cats' hackles rose.

"Our Clan was not always like this," Yellowfang interrupted smoothly. "When Raggedstar led ShadowClan, we were feared for our strength. But in those days our strength came from the warrior code and Clan loyalty, not from fear and bloodlust."

When Raggedstar led ShadowClan... "How did Raggedstar die?" Whitestorm asked curiously. It had been announced at a gathering, but no mention of how was ever discovered. "There were many rumours at the Gatherings, but no cat seemed to know for sure."

Yellowfang's eyes clouded with sorrow. "He was ambushed by a warrior patrol from another Clan."
Hold on a minute, Whitestorm's claws pricked at the ground. If another Clan killed Raggedstar, how come ShadowClan didn't retaliate? A war between two Clans would be rich gossip at any Gathering. Besides, Raggedstar was a great leader – they would surely want retribution for his death. We would have heard about it by now.

It made no sense. "Yes, that is what most cats seemed to think," he said slowly. "These are bad times indeed, when leaders are picked off in the dark, instead of open and honourable battle."

Firepaw frowned, his mind racing over different battle plans. "Is there any way of taking the kits without alerting the whole Clan?"

Dawncloud answered him. "They are very closely guarded. Brokenstar will be expecting ThunderClan to try and take them. You won't be able to steal them in secret. Open attack is your only hope."

"Then we must concentrate out attack on Brokenstar and his inner guard," meowed Whitestorm.

Yellowfang had a suggestion. "The ShadowClan warriors could lead me int the camp. They could say they had captured me. We have to make sure Brokenstar and his warriors are out of their dens. News of my capture will bring them into the clearing. Once they're all out in the open, I'll give you the signal for you to attack."

Whitestorm was silent for a moment. We are but a group of five warriors, two apprentices, a medicine cat with warrior training and three elders against... Elite warriors plus those who are afraid to disobey Brokenstar's command. We will most likely be outnumbered, and then there are the kits of ShadowClan who may get in the way. Whitestorm gazed at the ShadowClan cats sightlessly, deep in thought. I could be sending my clanmates to their deaths in this fight. It is a very bad match. But I suppose we will have to adapt, and face them bravely.

What he most feared was that he had two apprentices joining the battle as well. They were still so young. He could feel Firepaw shifting uncertainly against his side, waiting for the patrol leader's response. They were all waiting on him to make the decision. StarClan, I know that ShadowClan has wronged you, and the other Clans in the forest. But I ask you now to judge them not for what Brokenstar has done, and to guide them back onto the correct path. Lend us all – ThunderClan and ShadowClan – the strength to win this fight, for our honour, our kits, and our lives.

With his prayer sent, Whitestorm's face grave, he nodded. He was committing his warriors to the attack.

"Very well, Yellowfang," he meowed. "Please lead the way to the ShadowClan camp."