His blue eyes snapped open, and all at once he smelled the smoke. Leaping to his paws, Wolffang's eyes stung with the acrid tang of ash and his paws burned as he trampled the cinders that glowed about his nest. The hay was aflame, the entire barn was aflame, and everything was burning.

"Get up!" He shouted, and his throat was immediately choked with fluttering white-hot ash. "Get up!" He screamed. Hazelstorm stirred, and in his sleep he smelled the fire. Golden eyes lit up as he woke, and the dark brown tabby shrieked as he realized the tip of his tail was burning and the entire straw mountain had gone up in smoke.

"Wolffang!" He shrieked.

"Get the others!" Wolffang cried, bounding down from the top of the pyramid and descending into thicker smog. "Falconshade!" He coughed miserably, fighting to see through the dense gray haze. He couldn't spot the ginger tabby in the commotion as mice and rats scuttled over his paws in the mad dash to get out.

"Blossomclaw!" He heard Hazelstorm scream, "Blossomclaw!"

"Hazelstorm, Wolffang, where are you?" Blossomclaw wailed, "Help me!"

"Dad!" Wolffang called, increasingly worried, "Dad!" The tips of his white fur were singed badly and all he smelled was smoke and flames. A rapid-fire cough exploded nearby, hacking and choking. Wolffang ran to it. He ducked low and found a stripe of semi-clear air at the very bottom of the barn, where Falconshade had slept. The cough sounded again.

"Falconshade!" He rasped, ash thick gray sludge on his tongue.

"Son?" A weary, gagging voice whispered, just barely audible over the crackling flames. Wolffang crawled forward, squinting to keep the debris from stinging his eyes. He spotted Falconshade ahead, struggling to find his way through the all-encompassing smoke. Reaching out, he tapped his father with a paw.

"Crouch down!" He called out, and Falconshade, relieved, dropped to the ground. Blinking, the ginger tabby cleared his eyes and stared at his son.

"The others-" He rasped.

"Hazelstorm is helping Blossomclaw. First, we need to find a way out. We need to get you out!" He shouted over the roaring inferno that was the barn. He heard indistinct twoleg voices outside, and made his way toward them, hoping the sounds might provide a window of opportunity. They crawled forward, Wolffang leading his father bravely through the maze of smoldering coals and flashing sparks lit by the dry, crumbling straw. Wolffang paused, choking, eyes watering, mouth dry and cracked. Falconshade crawled onward, but stopped when he realized the young white tom had fallen unconscious having inhaled too much smoke. The determined ginger tabby took Wolffang's ashy scruff in his jaws and valiantly dragged his son through the blaze.

Falconshade finally reached the door they'd entered from, the wood now glowing as if lit from the inside: an enormous charcoal slab, burning with the force of a thousand flames. The tom shoved it open with one well-muscled shoulder, and hauled Wolffang from the fiery inferno. He tossed the limp white tom into the snow, hoping it would quench the little fires that had sparked in Wolffang's thick pelt. Falconshade took at most one second to roll about in the frigid white powdered mounds before dashing back inside the barn to find his other kits.

Wolffang woke, bleary eyes and thirsty, in a dark hole. The walls of the hole were cold to the touch, but the floor was lined with warm, damp moss. He shivered, his pelt wet and cold as frozen stone. Beside him, his brother dozed, the fur on his right foreleg completely burnt off, the pink skin now red and blistered and slathered in a hasty poultice. His sister crouched beside Hazelstorm, whose whiskers were also noticeably fewer, and consulted in hushed tone with their father. Falconshade was badly burned, patches of fur missing on his face, flank, and legs. One of his eyes was swollen shut, and he was solemn. Blossomclaw was singed and the bottoms of her paws burnt and blistered, but otherwise unharmed. Wolffang himself was sore and parts of his hairless skin stung something awful. He stood, and limped over to where his sister sat with his father.

"-can't possibly make it there tomorrow." The ginger and white she-cat was saying. Falconshade raised his head and greeted Wolffang kindly.

"How are you feeling?" Falconshade murmured.

"I've been better." Wolffang mewed ruefully, and Blossomclaw smiled, a wry and bitter thing, "How did we get out, Papa?"

"You breathed in too much smoke and he had to drag you," Blossomclaw answered, "And then he came back in o lead us out." Wolffang turned to his father, wide-eyed.

"Thank you," He purred, "You're amazing."

"Nothing any other father wouldn't do." Falconshade shrugged humbly, "Now, we have to decide when we leave."

"Hazelstorm needs a medicine cat immediately, and so do you." Wolffang said automatically, "We leave tonight."

"There's no way we could possibly get there tonight!" Blossomclaw hissed.

"He may be right," Falconshade murmured, "We have to get to a medicine cat, ad the closest options are ruled out due to the, ah, present circumstances."

"You mean Windclan would kill us and Riverclan would attack us," Wolffang mewed.

"Yes." Falconshade nodded.

"So the safest option is to leave tonight! Riverclan is asleep, and we very nearly have safe passage through their territory." It felt strange saying "their", and not "our".

"You're right," Blossomclaw admitted, "But I still don't like it."

"You can help Papa," Wolffang mewed, "And I'll carry Hazelstorm. We'll reach their camp by dawn." He promised them.

"We don't even know where it is!" Falconshade mewed, astonished, "How could we make it by dawn?"

"I know where to go," Wolffang insisted.

Wolffang crept into Shadowclan camp at the break of dawn. His brother's weight heavy on his back, the sights and smells now so familiar, as if he were walking through a waking dream. The camp seemed quiet and empty, snowdrifts carved by paths trampled by many sets of paws, white caps on each den, the freshkill pile dusted over. Falconshade limped close behind him, Blossomclaw propping her father up so he could walk. Wolffang blinked a few times, and dug his claws into the snow, assuring himself it wasn't all just a dream. The journey here had been perilous, danger lurking at every shadow in Riverclan, tensions high and nerves frayed.

"What now?" Blossomclaw whispered nervously. Wolffang glanced at her, eyes wide and startled.

"I-I don't know." He replied quietly. Falconshade grunted.

"We were too careful. They're al asleep." With a low groan, the ginger tabby stumbled to the front of the group. "We have to make some noise if we're ever going to get help." Wolffang and the others watched as their father threw himself in front of them.

"We seek asylum!" Falconshade shouted, and immediately every den began to quake with movement and voices. One frantic gray shape leapt from the warrior's den, and gaped at the group, green eyes wide. "Please, my kits need you help!"

"Falconshade!" The gray tom cried in shock as he stared at the four cats in the center of Shadowclan camp. Others had emerged from their dens now; they recognized the dark tortoiseshell shape of Hollowstar, the strong gray tom that was his newly-appointed deputy, and others they'd seen, but never spoken to, at gatherings.

"Are those Whitefang's-?" A tortie she-cat couldn't finish her question without bursting into tears. She ran to them, embracing Falconshade while sobbing. Wolffang wondered if he'd ever known this cat. The Shadowclanner lifted her watery dark blue gaze to his father's. "Thank you," She choked, "For bringing them home…it's been so long…" The she-cat stared at the three warriors as if she was seeing ghosts.

"Do we know you?" Blossomclaw asked curiously. Just then, Hazelstorm groaned and shifted his weight, tumbling off of Wolffang's shoulders. An apprentice screamed as she laid eyes on him.

"Somebody, get Shiverspots!" Dawnstrike, the deputy, barked. There was no need, for the pale gray she-cat with white speckles was already there, already asking warriors if they could carry the battered brown tabby into her den.

"I've got him," A gold and white tom volunteered, a look of wonder in his red-amber eyes as he set eyes on Whitefang's kits. Shiverspots helped load Hazelstorm onto the strange warrior's shoulders, and then Wolffang's brother disappeared into the crowd. The gray tom who'd first spotted them rushed forward and caught Falconshade just as the ginger tabby fell to the ground in pain.

"Come on, you…" He mumbled kindly, "Let's get you some help." Soon, only Wolffang and Blossomclaw stood before the entirety of Shadowclan. One by one, cats who'd known them and their mother stepped forward. The tortie she-cat was the first.

"Great Starclan, you've grown." She murmured, taking them in. "You look just like her, both of you. Tell me, what are your names now?"

"Blossomclaw," She answered readily, "And his is Wolffang." The white warrior was too stunned to speak. The she-cat shook her head.

"What I would've given for you to stay here…You mother was my best friend, you know," She grew sad, "My name is Cherrynose. Welcome home." With a soft smile, she stepped back. Her mate introduced himself as Bouncestrike, and their kits came forward too.

"We used to play with you," A black-pelted tom with his mother's blue eyes mused, "when you were little. We were apprentices when you left, and now you're warriors. It seems like only yesterday he took you away." They introduced themselves: Sorrelfang, Aspenclaw, and Honeysplash. Next, their younger littermates stepped up: Freckletail, Scorchear, Wildeye, and Nightsong. Wolffang and Blossomclaw could only stare as cats from their past tried to make them remember.

"We were great friends…don't you remember me?" Badgermask asked hopefully.

"Your mother brought me to the Clans when she was pregnant with you…we played mossball together. You really don't remember?" Emberblaze mewed sadly.

"I helped care for you when your mother died…we were like family." Duckflight sighed.

"Your mother and I were very close. I'm glad you're home." Lightheart purred as soon as he'd come back from the medicine cat's den, "Your brother and father will be fine."

"Our parents say your mother was very brave…we've heard all the stories!" Bravethorn and Flamedash said excitedly, "What was it like in Riverclan?"

"Stonetail and Paledove will be thrilled to see you!" Mothwhisker purred, "Come, let me show you to the elder's den." Wolffang and Blossomclaw followed her, wary of the parting crowd. There were so many cats…so many warriors. His head spun with all the names, all the relations, but really he was only here for them. His family.

"Who is it? What's going on out there?" A deep voice rasped.

"Addershriek, are Stonetail and Paledove awake?"

"The entire Clan is awake to whatever Starclan-forsaken thing has happened…" A white tom muttered, eyes mere slits against the dawn light reflected off the snow. Wolffang noted, startled, that the tom's eyes were bright silver.

"Well, Starclan has blessed us. Stonetail! Paledove! There's a couple someones here to see you!" Mothwhisker purred.

"If it's Shiverspots again, tell her my paw is fine…" A voice rumbled from the back of the den.

"It's not Shiverspots, and it isn't Snowpaw either. Now come out and say hello!" The dusty brown she-cat urged. Wolffang and Blossomclaw backed away from the entrance to the den, and an enormous gray tom emerged, the white splash on his chest glowing like freshly fallen snow. A pale silver she-cat followed him, gaunt and tired, her crystal blue gaze shattered. Mothwhisker smiled. "Look who it is!" She stepped aside, and the warriors set eyes on their grandparents for the first time in many moons.

"Great Starclan…" Stonetail murmured, his golden eyes so much like Whitefang's bright and shining with excitement.

"You're home!" Paledove cried, running to them. The shattered light in her eyes was replaced with something wholesome, and she wrapped them up in a squeezing embrace.

"Please, tell me this isn't a dream," Stonetail purred, looking at Wolffang.

"We're really here," The white tom smiled, "It's really us."

"You're just like your mother," Paledove said tearfully, "So much like your mother…" She was crying, then Stonetail was crying, and soon the kits were sobbing, clutching at the two elders like a lifeline.

"We're home," Blossomclaw choked on her words, "We're really home."


It had been a week, and they hadn't quite adjusted to life in Shadowclan. Everyone was kind, their burns were treated, and nests were made for them in the warrior's den, but were still a curiosity. They spent most of their days outside the elder's den, listening to Stonetail's stories. They realized that their grandfather had been far closer to their mother than Paledove had been up until a few moons before her death. They listened to how the other kits would bully Whitefang, the badger attack, adventures with Swanmist. Other cats told them stories too: Cherrynose and Bouncestrike, Lightheart, Emberblaze, Addershriek, and Featherfall would all tell tales of times when Whitefang was just Whitekit or Whitepaw or a young warrior. Falconshade listened with them, his eyes lighting up as they learned more about her history. The more they learned, too, the more they wished they could've known their aunt before. They couldn't bring themselves to tell Stonetail and Paledove about Swanmist and Whitefang, or anything about what happened on the halfbridge.

Wolffang knew Blossomclaw out of all of them was having the hardest time adjusting; she missed Reedfrost, the cream colored tabby tom in Riverclan. He had chased them out, but to her he was still just Reedpaw, who she'd fallen hard for. They'd planned their future out together and it shattered at their paws. Hazelstorm was fine, curious about everything and everyone, poking his nose into patrols, learning techniques for hunting in the forests and marshes of the territory from the other young warriors. Wolffang watched them all happily, making sure Falconshade was making friends and that his sister was meeting cats their age, and that his brother hadn't wandered off into the trees somewhere. However, he himself had spent the entire seven sunrises wondering why one cat in particular hadn't reached out to them. Timbermask was nowhere to be seen. Wolffang had built up the courage to talk to the tabby tom once he found him, and he had questions. So many questions. Questions like why?

He finally found the pale tabby tom in the warrior's den one evening when all others were out sharing tongues. Wolffang ducked into the den, blue eyes adjusting to the dim light. There was a tom eating toward the back, but he looked nothing like the Timbermask from his memories.

His pelt, matted and unkempt, hung off his fragile frame like moss clinging to a dying tree. The once-glossy brown tabby stripes were now dull, and his emerald eyes were dark. He wasn't the strong, well-spoken tom of Wolffang's memories. The white warrior approached him warily.

"I remember you," He said, standing a few paces away, facing the other warrior. Timbermask looked up and into his bright blue eyes, green gaze startled. The brown tom said nothing, only locked eyes with Wolffang, who stood a little straighter, a little prouder. He imitated his mother's stance on the halfbridge subconsciously. "You're my other father." Timbermask choked on a stray sparrow feather, and his eyes widened.

"Wolffang?" He said, jaw gaping open in astonishment. Hearing the affirmation of this tom saying his name was just enough. Wolffang smiled.

"Timbermask." He replied, and that was enough. The tabby teared up, and the white warrior stepped closer and sat beside him, where the veteran warrior held him close.


"Wolffang!" A voice cried out over the sound of pouring rain, "Wolffang!"

"Lilypaw?" He called, peering through the sheets of falling water. A dappled cinnamon shape burst from the tunnel and bowled him over, laughing.

"I passed! I did it; I passed! I passed!" She purred, nestling deep into the wild tangle of wet white fur on his chest. Her green eyes met his, shining with excitement.

"Congratulations," He laughed, rolling over and knocking her into the mud, her already dirty pelt now splattered with grainy marsh water.

"My ceremony is tonight, oh, Wolffang!" She smiled, nuzzling his cheek, "I'm so excited!"

"I remember my warrior ceremony," He mused, thinking back to his life in Riverclan. It seemed so long ago that they'd left and come here, to the land of the pines.

"Oh, don't say that, you make yourself sound old!" Lilypaw chided, "You're only a few moon older than me; you were barely a warrior when you came home!"

"Does it matter?" He growled playfully, wrestling her to the ground again. "Now we'll both be warriors, together."

"I've waited too long for this," Lily whispered gleefully.

"And now you won't have to wait any longer." He grinned, "I've had your nest built for moons!"

"This should've happened sooner! I swear to Starclan, Badgermask is so sick of me!" Lilypaw exclaimed dramatically.

"Well, if you'd never broken that leg…" Wolffang trailed off teasingly, and she whapped his nose with a gentle paw.

"Shut up!" She giggled, getting to her paws. She helped him up and out of the mud and the tall tom rested his chin on her head.

"Now, little flower, we can finally be one and the same." He mused, breath hot on her ears. She wriggled out from under the weight of his great white head and touched her nose to his cheek.

"It's been far too long a wait," She murmured.

"Lovebirds, you should make yourselves presentable for the ceremony!" Badgermask called from where she stood beside the tunnel entrance. She, too, was coated head to toe in dirt and rain. "Hollowstar said he'll call it as soon as possible!"

"No! I can't be named looking like this!" Lilypaw gasped, hurrying away.

"Wait for me!" Wolffang laughed, chasing her into the apprentice's den. They tumbled inside in a knot of fur and limbs, giggling like kits. Mistpaw and Shadepaw eyed them from where they sat, grooming themselves. Moonpaw and Turtlepaw tittered in the corner.

"Great Starclan, I'm a mess!" Lilypaw groaned, looking down at her dirty pelt with dismay.

"Nothing a little spit and polish can't fix," Wolffang grinned, licking her cheek and then wiping his tongue on the moss of her old nest. One stripe of clean fur now shone on her face. "There! All done!" Lilypaw snickered.

"You fool!" She teased. They commenced grooming each other, to Mistpaw and Shadepaw's disgust. The pair fled the apprentice's den and sought shelter elsewhere.

"Gross," Shadepaw muttered as they left.

"I think it's romantic," Moonpaw sighed happily, and Turtlepaw rolled her eyes.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather beneath Speaking Stone for a Clan meeting!" Hollowstar shouted over the thunder and rain.

"Am I pretty?" Lilypaw asked Wolffang cheekily, posing at the entrance to the apprentice's den. Moonpaw and Turtlepaw had already scampered away to find their father, Stormfall, and sit beside him Honeysplash.

"Always," Wolffang purred sweetly, catering to her rare vanity. She grinned.

"Aren't you darling!" She laughed before leading him outside and into the storm. He followed her as she darted to the center of the crowd that had gathered beneath their aging leader, and he watched proudly as she took her lace beside the two younger apprentices before Hollowstar.

"Lilypaw, please step forward." He boomed, voice ageless as he sat, hunched over in the cold night air. "Badgermask, has this apprentice trained hard and worked to understand and respect the ways of the warrior code and the ways of Shadowclan?" He asked.

"She has." Badgermask answered.

"Then, Starclan, we call upon you to bless her as warrior! Lilypaw, from this moment on, you shall be known as Lilybreeze. You have been an apprentice longer than most thanks to unforeseen challenges, and for that Starclan honors your bright spirit and perseverance, and welcomes you as a full of warrior of Shadowclan!" The Clan cheered her name, Wolffang louder than all of them. Falconshade watched his son proudly as he called out his mate's name to the stars, as if shouting to Whitefang. Beside Wolffang, Blossomclaw chanted Lilybreeze's name as well, her young kits huddled under her belly as they sheltered from the rain. Wildeye sat close to her, his tail wrapped about both her and the kits. Hazelstorm cheered too, catching Flamedash's eye across the crowd and looking away abashedly as she smiled.

As soon as the ceremony was over, Wolffang hurried to catch Lilybreeze before she sat for her vigil. She met his gaze over the heads of her parents, and hurriedly excused herself before running to him. He caught her as she flew at him again, small frame a bundle of excitement against his enormous shape.

"Hey there, Lilybreeze," He purred, pressing his forehead to hers and keeping her gaze locked with his. Her eyes crinkled as she smiled back at him, a deep purr throbbing in her throat.

"Hey there," She whispered.

Part 3 of 3

Hope you enjoyed it!