Chapter 3

The next day, Rainstorm ventured out of the medicine cat's den for the first time. The ThunderClan camp was amazing. The rock walls were steep and smooth, warrior and apprentices' dens built into the side of the wall. Everything was so natural. There was not a car in sight, no humans, no houses or anything.

"Hey, Rainstorm!" Brambleclaw and Cloudtail were running across the clearing towards her.

"Hi," Rainstorm said uneasily, recognizing these cats as the same toms that had chased her the day before.

"We're just here to say we're sorry," Cloudtail meowed. "We acted too quickly, without thinking."

Rainstorm narrowed her eyes. She admired the toms' courage. Not many cats would come up to a stranger and apologize. Even so, she felt there might be another motive behind their apology.

"So to make it up to you," Brambleclaw said, "We'll join you in helping to get your friends out of BloodClan."

Rainstorm's guess was right. Even so, she wanted them on her side. "Alright," she dipped her head in agreement. "I'd be glad for your help. Are there any more that may want to help?"

Cloudtail flicked his tail towards the warrior's den. "I'll ask everyone. In the meantime, you, Brambleclaw and Firestar should be discussing tactics. I'll see you later!" The white warrior then bounded off to the warrior's den.

"Why do I have to discuss tactics with you?" Rainstorm asked, still wary of the big, dark, tabby tom. "You're not the leader."

Brambleclaw flexed his muscles. "That is true. However, I am deputy and I am going on this trip. Therefore, I have the right to know." he padded off towards Fire star's den, with Rainstorm close on his heels.

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Redheart lay in her den, licking her kits to warm them. She was exhausted. Even with Bright's help, kitting was hard work. She wished Rainstorm was here with her. Three beautiful kits. Redheart gazed at them proudly. Two of them looked just like herself, a dull ginger color. One of them, however, looked exactly like their father. This small kit kad dark black fur with a light gray belly and face.

"Emberkit and Flamekit," she named each of the ginger ones in turn. "And Raggedkit," she murmured, brushing the black kit gently with her tail. Raggedcoat was the name of the kits' father. It seemed fitting to honor him by the name of his son. had

Bright, who Redheart had sent out to get some food, was now entering the den with two field mice. "Awww," she said, dropping the mice. "They are so beautiful!"

Redheart smiled proudly. "Yes, they are."

"Have you named them yet?" Bright squeaked eagerly.

"Emberkit, Flamekit, and Raggedkit," Redheart said fondly.

"Why are their names so weird? My name doesn't have 'kit' at the end of it!" Bright exclaimed, surprised by the different style of name.

"That's a Clan tradition," Redheart explained gently. "My mother taught it to me and my siblings. When I was young, my name was Redkit, then when I got older and began to learn to hunt, my name was changed to Redpaw, and now that I am full grown, my name is Redheart."

"So why isn't Scratch's special like yours?"

"He chose to go against tradition and drop that part of his name. Besides, his full grown name was Scratchface," Redheart twitched her whiskers in amusement.

Bright laughed. "I want a name like yours when I am older!"

"Maybe you'll get one," Redheart yawned. "Now I'm tired. It's been a rough day. Lets get some sleep, shall we?"

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