The full moon was clutched in the claws of the reaching oak branches, where Creekstar sat, gazing down at the clan cats' shining eyes. He shifted, readjusting his grip on the branch beneath him. It wasn't all that comfortable up here, but seeing the supportive gazes of his clanmates allowed him to bear it for the time being. Fernstar sat perfectly still on her branch beside him, eyes half-lidded. When she spoke, her voice was silky. Creekstar felt his fur prickling. Her voice always did that to him. It gave him a strong feeling of unease.

"We honor our newest warrior, who is here with us tonight—Driftcloud."

Creekstar cheered along with the clans, fluffing out his fur against the cold and Fernstar's voice.

"Creekstar, have you anything to report?" she asked coolly.

Creekstar lifted his head. "Yes. I'm proud to announce that my mate Lilyshine is expecting kits again." He peered into the crowd of cats to find Lilyshine's pretty green eyes. She was smiling.

"Congratulations," Fernstar purred, her voice sounding almost slimy with false happiness. "That's wonderful news."

"Thank you," he replied, a little smile creeping across his face. Even if she was lying through her teeth, what she said was true—it was wonderful. He couldn't wait for his kits to be born—and neither could his sons and daughter. His daughter was here right now, in fact. He scanned the crowd to find her sitting next to her mother, beaming with pride.

"I believe this Gathering is over," said Fernstar smoothly, and she dropped down form the tree and flicked her tail to her deputy, Burnstorm. He'd been speaking with Berrystep, Creekstar's deputy, but he rose to his paws when he was beckoned and followed his leader without a word.

Creekstar leapt down from the tree, grateful for a chance to stretch his legs. Ambersplash butted him in the shoulder with her head, purring. "You spoke awesomely!" she said with enthusiasm.

"You always say that," he said, grinning. "How are you?"

"I'm great," she replied confidently. "I talked Heavycloud into giving me some of his catmint."

"SilentClan couldn't have asked for a better medicine cat, Angie," he told her, feeling warm pride fill his chest. His sister had come a long way—just like him. But now here she was, the medicine cat of SilentClan.

Her smile faltered. "There was one better," she whispered.

He brushed her side with his tail. "Shadewing knew you could do this job better than anyone. That's why he chose you as his apprentice."

She nodded. "I'm doing my best to be just like him," she said.

Creekstar muffled a snicker. "I'd prefer if you just be yourself, Ambersplash. I don't want another grumpy Shadewing on my paws."

She laughed too.

Berrystep sauntered up to them, looking mildly disapproving. "What're you two laughing about?" she asked.

"Nothing," said Creekstar quickly. She'd definitely start preaching them about how they should "respect" the old medicine cat and his ways. Because he was a clan cat, so his ways are proper. Sometimes Creekstar wondered why he'd appointed Berrystep as his deputy, but then he'd look at her—so solid and strong and a picture of feminine grace, beauty, and lethalness. She demanded to be listened to, to be followed. She was the perfect deputy.

Maybe too perfect, Creekstar thought. "You ready to go?"

"Whenever you are," she replied steadily. So he turned and led the way out of the clearing, Berrystep, his sister, and the rest of the clan following him.

/\ /\

(O v O)

Creekstar's ear flicked. He dozed in the entrance to his den, feeling Lilyshine's warm fur pressed against his back and the weak sunlight making patterns through his eyelids. He breathed in the crisp leaf-fall air and then let it out in a gentle sigh. His mind slipped softly into a dream.

Cool air rushed through his whiskers. He felt a warm shape sitting beside. "Angie?" he whispered.

"Right here," she replied.

He saw Leafstar, her green eyes peering down at him. "The she-cat is quite small, but the tom…he shows promise."

Creekstar blinked. "Leafstar, it's me. Creekshadow."

"They're kittypets," came Berrystep's scornful, youthful voice from behind.

Creekstar turned. "Berrypaw?"

But there was no one behind him.

"Promise," Leafstar hissed. "You show promise, Tristan. I name you Creekpaw. You show promisssssse…."

"Leafstar, what's going on?" Creekstar glanced at his sister, but she wasn't there. Instead, a young Berrypaw was huddled by his side, her eyes wide.

"You're a kittypet," she said. "Kittypets can't have promise."

"Creekstar! Creekstar!"

His eyes snapped open, coming to rest on the young cat before him. He recognized his young apprentice Owlpaw's dark tabby fur and amber eyes. "Owlpaw? What's wrong?"

"It's…it's Wrenpaw," the young apprentice panted. "I can find her anywhere."

"Where did you see her last?" Creekstar asked, springing to his feet. He felt Lilyshine startle behind him, and he rested his tail tip on her flank.

"I don't know." Owlpaw looked distressed. He'd always been the nervous one of his siblings, and now he looked like he might be having a panic attack.

"Calm down," Creekstar said, "we'll find her, I promise." Nervous energy buzzed in his paws as he bounded up onto the top of the hollow tree where his den was. "SilentClan!" he called. "Wrenpaw has gone missing!"

Cats began to crowd around the hollow tree, eyes wide with shock.

"What do you mean?" asked Berrystep, her tail lashing.

Owlpaw rushed to his mother's side. "I can't find her," he cried. "I can't find Wrenpaw."

"Oakbranch?" Creekstar called. "When did you see her last?" Oakbranch was Wrenpaw's mentor—and, Creekstar had long suspected, father. He and Owlpaw had a similar look to them, and Berrystep had always been close to the older tom. Neither had ever said who the father was, though.

Oakbranch shrugged. "She was with Kestrelpaw."

Creekstar looked to Oakbranch's sister, the first cat who'd ever been kind to him—Honeyclaw. "Where's Kestrelpaw?"

"I haven't seen her," Honeyclaw admitted, eyes wide. "I took them out hunting not long ago, but then I brought them back here. They were supposed to be bringing prey to Streakeye."

Creekstar jumped off the log and padded to the elder's den. "Streakeye, have you seen Kestrelpaw or Wrenpaw?"

"Sure thing," said the old tom. "They brought me a squirrel a while back. They were laughin' about somethin' or other. They left in a hurry. I saw 'em leave camp."

Creekstar's stomach clenched. Not good. "Okay, Berrystep, Oakbranch, Honeyclaw," he said, his voice taking on the tense authority it did when he was nervous. "You're coming with me to find them." He turned to his apprentice. "You stay here, Owlpaw. We'll bring your sisters back."

Owlpaw nodded his head, terrified.

Creekstar led the way out of camp, breaking into a run once he'd picked up the apprentices' scent. He could feel Berrystep at his heels and he knew Oakbranch and Honeyclaw weren't far behind.

"Help me!" a scream suddenly pierced his ears, and a jolt of adrenaline shot through his veins. Berrystep burst past him, her breathing heavy in his ears. The smell of blood tingled in his nostrils.

"We're coming!" he yelled.

"HEEEEELLLLP!" the scream came again. "SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!"

Creekstar burst out into a clearing and came skidding to a stop, his eyes widening, when he saw a limp ginger-and-white shape on the ground, blood pooling around the still body, a red fox with jaws parted to show gleaming white fangs crouched above it.

"KESTRELPAW!" Berrystep cried, and she flung herself at the fox.