Here's the next chapter, this time from Coldstream's POV! I will most likely alternate between his POV, a somewhat minor character, such as Rainypaw, and another character who will be introduced next chapter.

Greyclaw of RiverClan: Thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far!

...

Chapter Two

I am in Blood

What have I done?

The thought coursed through Coldstream's mind as he ran back through MistClan territory, a shadowy blur amidst the undergrowth. He stayed away from the borders with AshClan, least a patrol from either clan spot him. Morning was on the horizon, and cats would likely be out on the dawn patrol, alert for any strange scent.

Coldstream put on a burst of speed. He had stayed too long by the river, cleaning his claws and fur of the sharp tang of blood. While doing so, he had waited to see if Lilyfall's body would also wash away. By the time he had left, it remained trapped on the river rocks, and Coldstream could not bear touching it again.

He was pleased that the time spent by the river was not all wasted. The faint impressions his paws left in the ground were free of blood or any tufts of tawny fur. There was still the lingering scent of blood and AshClan clinging to his pelt, however. Coldstream had hoped to wash that away as well, but his clanmates would be even more suspicious if he returned to camp drenched. No, he would need to find another way.

Coldstream kept onward, his pace slowing ever so slightly. It had been a long night, and his thoughts would not leave him alone. He kept going through the memory of what had happened over and over again. Lilyfall's piercing cry as she tumbled into the river. The loud sound her of thrashing quickly silenced. The sweet scent of her fur mingled with the sour taste of blood in Coldstream's mouth.

I could never love the cat you are now.

Those had been her last words to him, her final words to anyone. Coldstream snorted. She had loved him once, as he had loved her. But a forbidden romance with a lowly MistClan warrior could not seem to beat whatever Lilyfall had felt for AshClan's leader.

Coldstream wondered what Lilyfall would think of him now. He had not given her a chance to explain everything. Why exactly did she stop loving him? There must have been other reasons apart from his jealousy.

He shook his head. His thoughts were foolish. That was in the past now, and he must focus on the present. Still, as Coldstream stared down at his clean paws, it was hard not to imagine the blood speckling his fur, threatening to drown him in guilt.

Slowly, he continued through the forest. Coldstream was careful to keep his pace steady. He also avoided any twig that looked as it would break loudly underfoot. It would not do to alert his clanmates to his presence.

After a time, Coldstream came to a stop. The ground suddenly dipped before him, opening onto a pool thick with mud. He kneaded the dirt underneath him, nodding happily when the soft earth began to cake in his claws. The mud would do well to disguise the condemning scent that clung to him still.

Coldstream stepped forward, the ground slick beneath his paws. As he began to lose his footing, he felt himself pitch forward, face-first into the mud. He looked up, blinking mud from his eyes. More mud clogged his nose and lungs, making it difficult to breathe. Coldstream coughed a few times, spattering mud into the pool he stood in.

Because the mud also deafened his hearing, it was a moment before Coldstream noticed the quiet sound of laughter coming from above him. He looked up, scanning the trees for the source of the laughter. There was no one to be seen.

"You'd best watch where you're going next time, huh?" mewed a soft voice, still dotted with laughter.

Coldstream whirled to face the voice behind him, sending drops of mud flying. The petite black she-cat before him ducked, disgust evident on her face.

"Watch where you spray that mud," she muttered.

Coldstream shook himself again, sending more mud headed her way. The she-cat's ears flattened against her head. She raised a dirty white paw and began to groom the mud from it.

"Who are you?" he growled. "What are you doing on MistClan territory?"

The she-cat glanced up from her grooming, scrutinizing Coldstream. "Ugh. You're one of those clan cats, aren't you?" she asked.

Coldstream's felt his hackles begin to rise. "I'm a warrior," he corrected.

"So?" she mewed, drawing her paw over a black ear.

"Who are you?" Coldstream demanded. "Why are you on MistClan territory?"

The she-cat brought her paw back down in front of her. A sigh escaped her. "If you insist, then my name is Raven. And you are?"

Coldstream did not answer. Instead, he glared at her, his paws kneading at the mud beneath him.

Raven laughed again. "I won't tell you why I'm here until I know your name, warrior."

"Coldstream," he meowed darkly.

She snorted. "Why do you clan cats always have such strange names?" she asked.

"Your name seems strange to me," Coldstream retorted. "Now, the answer to my question?"

Raven looked away from him, her gaze flicking over the trees that surrounded them. "I was exploring," she murmured. "I guess I got carried away with how far I traveled."

Coldstream nodded. "Are you a loner then?"

She bristled. "I'm not familiar with all of your clan terms," Raven meowed. After a moment, her fur flattened. "But I do live on my own, now. That is, until I can find my way back to my housefolk."

Coldstream's green eyes narrowed. "So you're a kittypet?" he grunted.

Raven's shoulders tensed with anger. She knew that word, at least.

"What if I am?" she replied indignantly. "I can hunt and fend for myself just as well as any warrior can."

Despite her small size, Raven was strong. Coldstream could make out the hard definition of muscles beneath her glossy pelt. He sighed. This was no time to get into an argument.

Coldstream took a few steps forward, careful to avoid any mud puddles. "I'm sure you can," he appeased.

Raven stood up and took a step in his direction, not paying any mind now to the mud she placed her paws in. "I can prove it to you."

"There's no need for that," Coldstream meowed, taking another step forward. "I must be on my way now, as should you." He directed a pointed look at her.

Raven seemed unabashed. "I told you what I was doing out in the forest. What about you?"

Coldstream suddenly felt warm beneath his fur, despite the cool mud that still dripped from his frame. "That's none of your concern," he growled. Then, as seeing the look of disbelief Raven gave him, he relented a bit. "I was patrolling."

She cocked her head. "I don't know much about you clan cats, but don't you typically patrol in groups?"

Coldstream's tail lashed at the air in his frustration. "Usually," he grunted. "But what I do on my own territory is none of your concern."

Raven gave him a strange look, her yellow-green eyes narrowing. "If you say so," she muttered. "It's not as if I'm accusing you of anything, though."

Coldstream stiffened. His paws itched with the need to distance himself from the she-cat immediately. "I should be on my way now," he meowed. "And I suggest that the next time you decide to go exploring, you'd best watch where you're going. Huh, little kittypet?"

Raven bristled at the repetition of her own advice, her claws carving lines into the dirt beneath her. "Fine," she mewed. "I'll leave. But we'll meet again, warrior."

She slithered up the trunk of the nearest tree, a darting shadow amidst the green foliage. Coldstream watched her go. Her words had stirred something inside him, leaving him with a dark feeling of suspicion. She couldn't have known about the blood on his paws. No, he was just being paranoid.

Coldstream washed the last of the mud from his face before continuing his journey back to camp. The familiar sounds of the forest faded as he grew closer. MistClan's camp was rather isolated, located on the far edge of their territory. The trees thinned out as he approached the camp, its entrance marked by a small silver stream that provided no fish except in Greenleaf. Now, in Newleaf, the fish were just beginning to return.

As he crossed the stream, the salty tang of fish provoked a low rumble from his belly. Coldstream pressed on. This was not the time to catch prey. He would get something from the fresh-kill pile soon.

Coldstream finally pushed past the barrier of fern fronds and into camp. What he saw shocked him.

The majority of his clanmates were gathered in a circle, clustered around something that he could not see. At their head was Spiderstar, and as Coldstream approached, the old leader's eyes locked on Coldstream.

The rest of the MistClan cats turned to follow Spiderstar's gaze, parting so that Coldstream could enter their ranks. They seemed rattled, some with sorrow-filled eyes, and others with anger contorting their faces. Coldstream felt their stares on him, each one burning through his pelt as if their emotions were fueled by fire. He did not spare any of them a glance, and instead let his gaze fall upon the body of his only love, her wet corpse splayed out for all to see.

Spiderstar raised his head mournfully, looking not at his clanmates or at Lilyfall's still form, but up instead at the sky that was their ancestors' home.

Bitterness traced his words as he spoke. "StarClan, I proclaim this before you so that you may enact judgement for this repugnant crime as you see fit." Now his gaze did fall on Coldstream. "It seems that there is a traitor among us."

...

The chapter title was taken from a famous play, so kudos to anyone who knows it.

Also, reviews are appreciated!