One Last Time

Scourge, or Tiny, bumped into his father.

"Hello Tiny, I heard what you did last night. You okay?"

"Yeah I feel fine."

The two sat in silence, Tiny thinking and Jake shuffling his paws.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Can we go to Nutmeg's house?"

"Okay."


"Hey Tiny? Why do you want to go to Nutmeg's place?" asked Jake, sitting on the fence.

"Because I need to talk about a mother's point of view." Tiny leap off, not waiting for the orange tom's answer.

The small cat jumped though the flapdoor and called out. "Nutmeg?!"

"Hi, Tiny, how are you?"

"Hello. Uh..."

"Tiny? Whats wrong?"

Tiny took a deep breath. He started to explaining to Nutmeg about his life. He was half-way though when the she-cat stopped him.

"Tiny, I already know that you're Scourge."

"Oh, uh yesterday, I disbanded Bloodclan and I just want to hear a mother's point of view about this..."

"Mmm...I definitely won't want any of my kits making such a clan and based on your past, I would regret not caring for my kit more..."

"Regret..."

"And I might think how to bring the kit back to my housefolk. But even if I think about it, I won't be able to do anything based on how your group is. I probably be chased away."

"Ah.."

"But since you disbanded the clan, I would be glad to know that you decided to come back...Tiny? You okay?" The kit-sized cat was staring at the floor, his icy-blue eyes dim.

"I'm fine. I happy to know how my mom would think, but...just that I wish my mom is still here. I wish she'd be grooming my coat and be talking about Dad right now."

"Did you say you wanted to be groomed?"

"Yeah, why?" Tiny asked. Seeing Nutmeg's glinting eyes made him regret talking about his mom. He screeched.


Jake jumped through the flapdoor. "Tiny?! What's wrong? Nutmeg? Where's Tiny?"

His mate turned her head, Tiny in her mouth curled up and his fur sleek. There was even something transparently white coming from his mouth.

"H i Ak, m don an ing s r."-Oh, hi Jake, I'm done cleaning his fur.

Jake stared in shock. "Wha?"


An old gray cat was sitting in a clearing, watching the stars. A tortoiseshell pads up to her. Bluestar dips her head.

"How is Mousefur?"

"Her wounds are deep, Bluestar, but she is young and strong. She will heal quickly," replied Spottedleaf, settling herself next to her leader.

"And the others?"

"They will all recover too."

The gray cat sighed. "We are lucky not to lost any of our warriors this time. You are a gifted medicine cat, Spottedleaf." She turned her head back to the Silverpelt.

"I am deeply troubled by tonight's defeat. Thunderclan has not been beaten in its own territory since I became leader. These are difficult times for our clan. The season of newleaf is late and there have been fewer kits. Thunderclan needs more warriors if it is to survive."

"But the year is only beginning. There will be more kits when greenleaf comes."

"Perhaps. But training our young to warriors takes time. If Thunderclan is to defend its territory, it must have new warriors as soon a possible."

"Are you asking Starclan for answers?" asked Spottedleaf, following Bluestar's gaze.

"It is at times like this we need the words of our ancestors to help us. Has Starclan spoken to you yet?"

"Not for some moons, Bluestar."

A shooting star shot across the sky, Spottedleaf's fur bristled. Her leader waited as the medicine cat had a distant gaze for a few moments before looking down.

"Fire alone can save our clan, but it must first help the frozen night."

"Fire? But fire is feared by all clans! How can it save us? And what about the night?"

The tortoiseshell shook her head. "I do not know, but this is the message Starclan has chosen to share with me."

"You have never been wrong before, Spottedleaf. If StarClan has spoken, then it must be so. Fire will save our clan and if the night comes, we will welcome it. "


Just gave out the names.