"Who's going to be deputy now?"

Ashfur's question broke through Graystripe's swirling thoughts. A shudder went through him as he was brought back to the present, and he looked around at the shocked and grieving Clan. They were all watching him, and he felt a shudder go through him as he stared back. Their pelts stuck to their sides in the rain with their frames so underfed that their ribs showed. Their tails were trailing in the dirt with ever-growing exhaustion and grief.

Half of these cats looked as though StarClan could take them at any moment. StarClan, he thought, how can I lead these cats when I, myself, want to leave? For moons now, as he watched the forest become destroyed and the Twolegs take over, he wanted to leave. He wanted to take his Clanmates and escape the destruction, and he knew many of his Clanmates felt the same way.

If it hadn't been for Firestar insisting that they waited for the other three Clans, Graystripe knew that many of these cats would have left by now. So many cats had relied heavily on Firestar to pull them through the pain and suffering, but now he was gone.

Now it's was his turn to stand up and lead the Clan. Just the thought of it alone felt daunting. Graystripe's jaw tightened. He was the deputy, he thought, not the leader. He never wanted to be the leader of ThunderClan.

But he had been before, hadn't he? Memories of leading ThunderClan to Gatherings while Firestar was away reviving SkyClan rose in his mind. He had dealt with the responsibility of being the leader then, so he could do it again now. Though, admittedly, they weren't in the middle of leaf-bare while the forest was being uprooted around them last time…

"Well, Graystripe?" Mousefur's impatient spoke to his right. Her tail lashed as she watched him expectantly.

Please StarClan, he begged as his gaze swept around the staring, anxious Clan once more. His heartbeat rose in his throat, and all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears. Bring Firestar back, and soon.

But then Sandstorm was at his side, and it was as though his panicked thoughts were suppressed at once. The she-cat brushed his fur supportively as she came to stand beside him.

"Firestar will return to ThunderClan," her mew was strong now as she addressed her Clan, and the grief in her eyes had lessened. "He would do anything for his Clan, and he will do the same to find us again. We must believe that he will return."

Graystripe took a shaky, calming breath and nodded. "Yes," he agreed in the most steady voice he could muster, "Firestar will return, and until then I will take over in his position."

"Who knows when that'll be though?" Mousefur sounded doubtful. "What will we do until then?"

Dustpelt stood now and padded forward. "We carry on as normal," he said with a nod. "Whether Firestar is in camp or not, we still carry out patrols." He turned and looked at Brackenfur, "You were going to take a hunting patrol out by the training hollow, weren't you?"

The golden warrior squared his shoulders at being addressed. "Yes, that's right." He looked around at the gathered cats and called some to join him. "Rainwhisker, Mousefur, and Spiderpaw, you can come with me."

Thankful for the escape, Graystripe turned and dropped down from the boulders while his Clanmates were distracted with forming patrols. He felt lightheaded and all he wanted to do was find a semi-dry nest under the overhanging rock and be alone. He had only taken a few steps forward when Cinderpelt dropped down to confront him though. Sandstorm and Dustpelt were right behind her.

Graystripe sighed, not wanting to speak with them at the moment. He climbed into his nest and turned to acknowledge them tiredly. There was an uncomfortable silence for a long moment, in which no one wanted to be the first to speak. He watched over Cinderpelt's shoulder as Brackenfur lead his patrol off in the direction of the training hollow. Spiderpaw hissed quietly as a fat raindrop fell from a tree and hit him directly on the nose.

Cinderpelt opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off sharply. New questions had begun to race through his mind and he wanted to ask them aloud. "What will the other Clans think?" He demanded. "What will Blackstar say when he sees that ThunderClan doesn't have a leader?"

Cinderpelt's gaze softened. She shuffled under the low overhang, and when she was fully out of the rain, she crouched at the edge of his nest. "Maybe then he'll see reason." She mused, "Losing a leader would certainly scare the others into agreeing to leave."

"We shouldn't have to lose a leader for the Clans to see that our life in the forest is over," Dustpelt grunted, striding forward to shelter under the overhang as well.

"StarClan's word should have been enough," Cinderpelt agreed quietly. Her ear twitched as they heard more patrols being sent out above them.

"But if we leave," Graystripe pressed on, "How will Firestar find us? The whole forest might be gone by the time he arrives."

"You don't give that furball enough credit." Sandstorm purred weakly, though she looked exhausted now. "Did you forget everything you and Firestar did as warriors? How many times did the two of your break the code for the better of the Clans? Firestar will do anything to reach us again, no matter where we are."

There was a long silence between them again. Cinderpelt shifted uneasily, then spoke, "We are all here for you, Graystripe. Leading a Clan is a big responsibility, but I don't want you to feel alone."

"We did not lose a leader today," Dustpelt agreed with a nod. "He just went on another one of his life-threatening, mouse-brained journeys that'll likely take moons. But Firestar is Firestar. He'll make his way back."

Cinderpelt nodded, "I'm not making you take nine lives." She told him seriously, "I want Firestar back as much as the next cat, but until he returns, I will make you uphold your commitment as deputy. ThunderClan needs the stability."

"I know." Graystripe sighed and hauled himself to his paws now. With Cinderpelt, Sandstorm, and Dustpelt by his side, he felt marginally better about his new position in the Clan, but he still felt the daunting weight of the starving Clan on his shoulders. "Thank you," he told them with a grateful dip of his head.

He stepped out of the nest and brushed past them, "I think I'm going to go out on patrol."

"I'll join you." Dustpelt offered and together they leaped up onto the boulders to gather a patrol from the remaining cats.