"You're back!" a slightly raspy cry shouted to us as we entered the camp. It came from Dawncloud, one of the elders. Her brown-striped fur was ruffled and her blue eyes were round with relief.

"Of course we're back." Blackfoot grunted apathetically.

She snorted at the deputy and turned her eyes toward me and Whitepaw as we dragged the bodies of Petalpaw and Grasspaw to the center of the camp. Dawncloud stopped abruptly and began to shake. She let out a low, mourning caterwaul. "My kits! My kits are dead!" she wailed in agony.

I spat out Grasspaw's scruff. "They were killed by WindClan," I mewed, struggling not to let myself sound smug. "Onewhisker and Ashfoot."

The queen looked horrified. I guess she would know Ashfoot from the Gatherings. Dawncloud pressed her nose into Grasspaw's cold pelt and did the same to Petalpaw when Whitepaw put her down.

"Petalpaw died bravely, in service of our clan. She will be honored," Littlepaw muttered solemnly. He closed his eyes briefly.

"So did Grasspaw." Whitepaw hung his head, having been good friends with the other cat. I rolled my eyes, but felt the need to say something. The Clan shouldn't suspect that I didn't care at all.

"They will both be accepted into StarClan with pride." I added finally.

Dawncloud looked up at us, dipping her head in gratitude. "Thank you," she murmured.

I nodded as a sinking feeling filled my stomach. It was partly my fault for making an elder grieve for her kits. But I must remain strong; they were useless anyway, right?

"We have won a great battle, and WindClan has been driven from their territory."

I almost jumped as my father's proud voice echoed through the camp. I had missed the meeting call during my exchange with Dawncloud.

"Our kits will be fed, although the moors will offer us minimal food. In the next Gathering, we will ask for hunting rights in both ThunderClan and RiverClan."

"Isn't WindClan's territory enough?" Runningnose called from the medicine cat's den.

"No." Brokenstar answered sharply. "WindClan had the scrawniest cats; no doubt their prey will be the same: pathetic, such as yourself." Father glowered at him, his amber eyes cold and unforgiving. I flexed my claws and dug them into the ground.

I had heard from that old cat, Yellowfang, that Runningnose and his littermates had used to bully Brokenstar as a kit. Now that he was leader, they should be happy that they weren't dead yet. Runningnose stared at his paws shamefully and didn't reply. I felt a surge of satisfaction. In ShadowClan, the medicine cats wouldn't dare challenge their leader.

'It is settled. We will demand hunting rights in both ThunderClan and RiverClan, or they will suffer." Father signaled the end of the meeting with a flick of his bent tail. The Clan began to disperse, and I padded to the apprentice's den.

Several apprentices stared at me with hateful eyes enviously, and others grieved for Petalpaw and Grasspaw. Most of them whispered and narrowed their eyes at me.

"She only got to go because Brokenstar is her father."

"I heard that she's been sneaking around with Blackfoot."

"Yeah, that wouldn't surprise me. I bet they do something else other than training."

"Are you finished with your gossip and shameful lies?" I had sneaked up to them and eavesdropped. They froze in terror, probably not realizing I was there. I scoffed mentally. How would they become warriors if they couldn't scent me?

"We weren't lying, Icepaw." Spiderpaw, the she-cat who disliked me the most, growled. "We all know."

I leaned in to spite her and spoke casually. "Know what? The fact that the elite warriors prefer me over you?"

"That's why the thing between you and Blackfoot makes sense. Wait until Brokenstar learns!" She paced around aggressively.

"Oh, Spiderpaw," I berated her mockingly. "there's nothing going on between the deputy and I. Why would you accuse such a thing? Are you, perhaps, jealous?" I tilted my head, knowing that I was ruffling her fur the wrong way. "My mentor is Jaggedtooth, after all."

Spiderpaw snarled in rage, furious that I had once overheard her telling Petalpaw that she fancied the ginger tabby. She swiftly raised a paw to cuff me, but I dodged her blow and tackled her. I curled my lip in disdain, baring my teeth in the beginning of a snarl.

"A warrior thinks twice before she attacks and plots her moves carefully." I hissed, letting her up. Her green eyes flamed in anger as she retreated from the den, her friends scrambling after her. I noticed Whitepaw and Littlepaw staring at me in awe, gaping.

I licked my paw in satisfaction and leered at them. "Trying to eat a tick?" I asked dryly. They kept staring. I ignored them and curled into a ball on my nest. Maybe tomorrow would be better. Maybe.

Please don't kill me! *dodges rotten fruits and vegetables* I'M NOT DEAD, don't worry! High school, crashing computers, slow internet, and no inspiration has not been treating me well. Thank you so much for your kindness and patience! ^_^