Hey guys! Sorry I'm updating late AGAIN. Quick thanks to Professor Kake for following this fanfic! :D Here's chapter two!

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CHAPTER TWO

Fear coursing through her veins, Nightpaw followed Brackenclaw out of the camp and towards the lake. Her mind was racing, Streampaw's description of her dream echoing in her ears. Floating on the surface…started to sink…a kit!

"Brackenclaw?"

A tiny, quivering voice made the whole patrol skid to a stop. Brackenclaw glanced around. "Owlkit? Birchkit?"

The bushes rustled and a brown tabby kit stepped out of the branches, eyes wide with fear. Brackenclaw lunged at his son and covered him with licks. "Birchkit! Are you all right?"

Birchkit nodded. "The rogues wanted me to join their group! But…Owlkit—"

"The lake," Brackenclaw mewed, glancing at Nightpaw. She nodded. "We should hurry!"

Brackenclaw turned to Flamefeather. "Take Birchkit back to camp, please, and have him checked over by Pebblefur."

Flamefeather dipped his head, grabbed Birchkit by the scruff, and bounded back towards the camp.

The patrol was off again, heading for the lake. The scent of kits hung in the air, intertwined with rogue smell. Nightpaw felt her breaths coming out as ragged gasps, as she knew what would be waiting for them at the lake.

Finally they burst through the trees and glanced around. No cat was there.

"Owlkit?" Brackenclaw called out. There was no response. The scent of rogues was strong and fresh, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Brackenclaw turned to Nightpaw. "Are you sure he's here?"

Nightpaw nodded. "I-I think he…"

Pawsteps behind them startled the group and they spun around, claws unsheathed, waiting for a cat to emerge from the trees.

A dark ginger tom appeared. Flamefeather! His eyes were filled with sorrow. "Brackenclaw, Owlkit is dead."

The deputy narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Birchkit told me the story," Flamefeather explained. "They wandered out of the camp, and were found by two rogues. The main rogue said that Owlkit was too weak to be in their group, so they…they killed him. Birchkit managed to get away."

"Where is his body?" Brackenclaw croaked, his voice overflowing with sadness.

Flamefeather's gaze shifted to the lake behind them. "Probably at the bottom of the lake by now. I'm so sorry."

Nightpaw glanced at the deputy, whose expression suddenly twisted into a snarl. "We're going to find those rogues. Flamefeather, Nightpaw, go back to camp and get reinforcements. No apprentices."

"All the warriors are out searching for the kits," Graystream pointed out.

Brackenclaw paused and his gaze softened. "Then we'll just have to chase them out. Gather up the rest of the warriors in the camp and send them here."

"Are we going to kill them?" Flamefeather demanded, kneading the thin snow with his claws.

Brackenclaw shook his head. "True warriors do not kill. Besides, killing them won't bring my son back. Now go."

Flamefeather and Nightpaw exchanged glances and took off in the direction of the camp until they reached the clearing.

While Flamefeather gathered the few remaining warriors in the camp, Nightpaw joined the other apprentices near the nursery. A thin wail was coming from the center of the apprentices, and Nightpaw guessed that they were trying to console Quailfeather.

"Nightpaw!"

Shadepaw and Hawkpaw split from the group and bounded over to her.

"Did you see the rogues?" Hawkpaw demanded. Shadepaw watched as Flamefeather left the camp with the other warriors. "Where are they going?"

Nightpaw shook her head. "We didn't see them. Flamefeather is taking the rest of the warriors to find them and chase them out of the territory."

"Poor, poor Owlkit," Shadepaw murmured. "He was so young. How is Birchkit?"

Nightpaw shrugged. "He looked fine when we found him, just shaken."

She noticed Streampaw slipping out from the medicine den and heading towards them. Nightpaw dipped her head to her littermates and raced over to her. "Streampaw, your dream—it was true."

"I know," Streampaw mewed. "Birchkit told us that the rogues…threw Owlkit's body into the lake." She shuddered. "Why would any cat want to do something so horrible?"

"It's a good thing we decided to tell Pebblefur," Nightpaw meowed. "If we hadn't, Birchkit might have died, too."

Streampaw sighed. "But we were too late for Owlkit. We can't even have a proper burial for him."

"Are you seeing a pattern with these dreams?" Nightpaw widened her eyes. "First, you had the dream about the fox traps. Then I had a dream about Fogpaw. At the half-moon meeting, you had a dream about the Gathering. But then you had a dream about this…"

Streampaw shifted her weight uncomfortably. "Well, the dream at the half-moon meeting was actually supposed to be for someone else."

"Someone else?" Nightpaw echoed. "What do you mean?"

Streampaw shrugged. "When Leafpool gave me the dream, she said it was actually for some other cat whose dreams were being blocked."

"Who could it be?" Nightpaw wondered. "Probably either Hawkpaw or Shadepaw. So the order is you, me, and then another cat whose dreams are being blocked. We're all receiving these foretelling dreams. But why? Why us?"

"Nightpaw, Streampaw."

The two she-cats glanced up to see Smokestar beckoning them into his den. Nightpaw gulped and followed her sister inside. Pebblefur was sitting beside their leader, and both their expressions were solemn.

Smokestar drew in a deep breath. "Pebblefur said that Streampaw had a foretelling dream last night. Is this true?"

Streampaw nodded. "In it, I saw a kit sinking in the lake and smelled rogues."

Smokestar glanced at Nightpaw. "And you were the one to find Fogpaw's body because of a dream you'd had."

"Y-yes," Nightpaw stammered.

"How many other dreams have you had?"

Nightpaw glanced at Streampaw, who slowly meowed, "I had dreams about the fox traps and the Gathering."

"You had a dream about the Gathering and you didn't report it to me?" Smokestar growled. "Streampaw, do you understand how many cats we lost because of that?"

Streampaw shrank back, and Nightpaw had to pity her sister.

Pebblefur leapt to his apprentice's defense. "She couldn't have known any better. What was your dream about, Streampaw?"

"I was on the island, and I saw a pair of eyes in the darkness," Streampaw mewed, her voice shaky. "I thought…I thought it meant that there was going to be a raid on the camp during the Gathering."

Smokestar's gaze softened. "If you'd told me about that dream, it would have probably only convinced me even further that they were going were planning on attacking the camp."

Streampaw visibly relaxed.

"From now on, any dreams that either of you have must be reported to both Pebblefur and me, understand?" Smokestar glanced from Streampaw to Nightpaw.

Streampaw nodded, but Nightpaw realized that she hadn't told them about the prophecy. "Smokestar, wait. We…we've had another dream."

Streampaw gazed curiously at her sister, but Nightpaw ignored her. "And…we received a prophecy."

Smokestar's ears pricked and Pebblefur widened his eyes. "All right, let's hear it."

"Among you are three who do not belong," Nightpaw began, and Streampaw joined in. "When the sharpest claws unsheathe once again, the birds will betray, the darkness will protect, and the waters will heal."

Both toms were silent for a few heartbeats. Finally Smokestar straightened up. "I didn't receive this prophecy. How about you, Pebblefur?"

Pebblefur shook his head, eyes wide and unblinking.

"We think that 'the darkness' is ShadowClan, and 'the waters' are RiverClan," Nightpaw explained.

Smokestar nodded. "Don't worry about it. Leave the interpretations to us." He led the apprentices out of his den. "Remember what I want you to do about your dreams."

Nightpaw and Streampaw dipped their heads and watched as Smokestar disappeared back into the den.

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Shivering, Nightpaw trudged through the snow, narrowing her eyes against the icy wind that buffeted her whiskers flat against her face. She struggled to keep her eyes on the dark gray pelt a few foxlengths in front of her. Her belly grumbled; she hadn't eaten a decent meal in days, and she was so tired…

Nightpaw opened her eyes and sighed in relief as warmth seeped through her pelt. She sat up in her nest, blinking drowsily, and suddenly felt something kick her thigh. Hawkpaw was thrashing in his sleep again, swiping his paws as though fighting.

She crouched down, watching him. Even his face was twisted into a snarl as he fought off his imaginary opponent. The faint smell of blood made Nightpaw widen her eyes. She sniffed around him until she found a small bleeding scratch on his tail. How could he get this injury in his sleep?

Nightpaw suddenly knew why, and she tried to convince herself otherwise. Perhaps there's a thorn in his nest? She shook her head. The Dark Forest. I should've known. How else would he be such an amazing fighter? And the other day when he told me he was doing 'important stuff'? He's training with Dark Forest warriors.

She jolted as she realized something. I'll bet that's what is blocking his dreams! He's probably supposed to be receiving dreams from StarClan!

Nightpaw was almost disgusted at her brother. How could he not know better than to train with the Dark Forest? Those cats almost destroyed the Clans several seasons ago. She curled back up in her nest, willing herself into his dream, and closed her eyes.

The sound of water dripping filled Nightpaw's ears, and she blinked open her eyes. What looked like cave walls surrounded her, and she realized that she was dreaming. The cave was empty, but voices echoed off the smooth stone walls and entered the hollow she was in. On each wall was a large hole, a tunnel probably leading somewhere else.

Nightpaw cautiously and silently padded up to one of the holes in the wall and stuck her head through. Voices and pawsteps were approaching, and fear made her belly lurch. Glancing around desperately, Nightpaw searched for a place to hide. She lunged for another hole in the wall, but it was too late. Two cats entered the hollow, chatting. She crouched in the corner, waiting for them to spot her.

"Where are you assigned to guard tonight?" one of the cats, a tabby tom, asked.

The second cat, a slender ginger she-cat, shrugged. "I haven't gone to see Claw and Talon about it yet. This is my first time guarding by myself. I'm so excited!"

They were paying no attention to Nightpaw. She was clearly visible, a black bundle of fur against a completely gray-brown cave, but they couldn't see her at all. Am I invisible?

The tabby tom nodded. "You'll probably be at Station Two, over by the dock. That's the first place that I guarded by myself. There's not much action there."

Where am I? Nightpaw wondered. Who are these cats?

"Do you know where Claw is right now?" the she-cat asked. The tabby tom motioned to his right with his tail. "He's probably at the Level Four Enrichment Area. You know how he has those private training sessions at night."

The ginger she-cat padded up to the tunnel that the tom had pointed to. "Do you think he'd be angry if I bothered him?"

The tabby nodded. "He gets very angry if any cat interrupts him during these training sessions. You should probably find Talon instead."

Nightpaw widened her eyes. I'll bet Hawkpaw is the cat being trained right now! She darted across the hollow and into the tunnel. It was dark and she felt as though she were blind. She stumbled through the darkness until she spotted a light. There!

She burst into the clearing and widened her eyes. This hollow was certainly bigger than the one she'd just been in. The ground was covered in sand, but there were a few patches of dead leaves and grass scattered around the clearing. A small pool sat near the corner, a hole in the ceiling supplying it with water.

"No, no, that's not right."

A loud, barking voice startled Nightpaw, and she instinctively backed into the wall. A large dark tabby tom was shaking his head. "You've got to have a firm stance before you even begin the move."

"Like this?"

That was Hawkpaw's voice! The tabby tom stepped aside, revealing her pale gray brother standing in front of him.

"Yes, that's it. Now try it again."

The dark tabby tom watched as Hawkpaw leapt into the air, twisting and slashing out his claws, and landed sturdily on the ground again. "How was that?"

He nodded. "Much better."

Hawkpaw's eyes sparkled. "Can I try it with real cats now?"

"Why not?" The tabby tom turned sharply to the left. "Dirt, Flea, come in here."

Nightpaw gasped at what she saw. Two cats, both covered in scratches, scrambled into the hollow. One of them was missing an ear, and the other had no tail. Dried blood clung to both their pelts and one of them, a black she-cat, was limping heavily. They were extremely skinny, their legs like wobbly sticks.

He studied them. "Dirt, we'll use you for now. Stand there and pretend to attack him. When he leaps into the air, stand on your hind legs."

The scrawny tom padded up to Hawkpaw and crouched down. Hawkpaw jumped up and the mangy tom reared up on his hind legs. Nightpaw winced as Hawkpaw's claws met the tom's face. He stumbled backwards, blood pouring from the fresh claw marks under his eye.

"Great!" Hawkpaw's mentor praised. He turned to Dirt, who was swiping his paw over his wound, and leaned in his face. "I bet you wish you'd joined, now don't you?"

Nightpaw felt sick. This must be the Dark Forest. How could Hawkpaw want to train in a place like this?

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Wow. What did you guys think? I know it's a pretty stuffed chapter! Poor Owlkit ): I feel bad for killing him off. Hope you guys enjoyed it and thanks for reading! Have a great day/night c: