Chapter 4

The snow was crisp under his paws as Tinyclaw scrambled up the ravine. The sky was pale blue with a bright sun, though hardly any warmth came from its light. Leaf-bare still had the forest in its grip for now – but the brightness of the sun made Tinyclaw hopeful that newleaf was not far off.

Behind him, Graystripe huffed, "Maybe the sun will bring some prey out?"

"Hope so," Tinyclaw replied. They had a lot of hunting to do if they were going to make up for their blunder. Tigerstar's fury was legendary, and the fresh-kill pile back at camp was dangerously low. Tinyclaw wanted to get as much as possible.

"If he keeps stomping like an angry badger, all the prey will go into their holes!" scoffed Sandstorm. Her pale shape rocketed past Graystripe with ease and joined Tinyclaw at the top of the ravine. She looked down at Graystripe and teased, "His yowling will frighten it all!"

"Hey!" growled Cinderpaw, fur fluffed in offense behind Graystripe, "He doesn't stomp!"

"Yeah!" Graystripe agreed, finally making it to the top. He shook the snow from his fur and went on, "I lollop as gracefully as a rabbit!"

Sandstorm's whiskers twitched, and Tinyclaw purred in amusement. Cinderpaw joined them at the top of the ravine, and the four cats set out into the forest. Tigerstar may have ordered Tinyclaw and Graystripe to hunt, but he had never ordered them to hunt alone – Tinyclaw was more than glad for the company.

Tinyclaw watched Sandstorm trot on ahead, intent on looking for prey. Tinyclaw raised a paw to follow, but he knew that Sandstorm hunted better alone. She would be better off without him. Tinyclaw opened his jaws to ask Graystripe to look around with him, but the words caught in his throat. Graystripe was rooting about with Cinderpaw, looking for mice.

A pang of loss and loneliness hit Tinyclaw hard. He missed training with Brackenpaw, his own apprentice – but since he had been injured on the Thunderpath, Tinyclaw wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to come back to training. Brackenpaw was huddled up with Yellowfang in her den, serving as her temporary assistant.

Tinyclaw pushed the thoughts away – they were too heavy for hunting. He opened his jaws and followed a promising trail through the undergrowth, away from both Graystripe and Sandstorm. A few fox-lengths away, the bristling snow twitched. Tinyclaw lifted his head.

Rabbit!

Tinyclaw dropped into a low crouch, aware that his black pelt would make it harder for him to sneak up on his prey unless it mistook him for a dead branch. He kept his tail low and still, pulling himself forward on his paws. At the last moment the rabbit raised its ears and head – but it was too late. Tinyclaw sprang and finished it off before it could squeal.

Lifting the rabbit in his jaws, he felt an ache in his neck at its weight. He smiled to himself as best as he could. It's a good start…

Tinyclaw dragged his rabbit into camp last, Sandstorm and the others having already entered camp with their smaller catches. The rabbit dragged at Tinyclaw's muscles and made him wish he'd gone for something smaller, like Graystripe's mice – but when he saw the glow of approval on Tigerstar's face, Tinyclaw lifted his head proudly.

Beside Tigerstar, the fresh-kill pile was swelling from the day's hunting. The massive tabby watched Sandstorm, Graystripe, and Cinderpaw deposit their mix of mice, shrews, and birds onto the top and nodded to each of them as they passed. He was obviously proud.

Tinyclaw set his rabbit down at the top, grateful for the chance to give his jaws a break. As he was stretching his jaws, Tigerstar approached.

"A fine catch," he mused.

Tinyclaw nodded in reply. "Thank you."

Tigerstar's eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'd hate to ask, but could you take that rabbit to Yellowfang? She hasn't been out to eat yet."

Tinyclaw swallowed. Though Tigerstar's approval warmed his pelt, his jaws ached at the thought of dragging around that rabbit again. Still, without protest, he grabbed it back into his jaws and headed for the medicine cat's den, ignoring Tigerstar's rusty purr as he passed.

I suppose I deserve this, he thought as he stepped into the medicine cat's den. It was a lovely well-shaded part of the clearing, so it was kept safe from most of the snow. A tall rock rose from the center, split into a secret cave for Yellowfang. It was warm and musty inside, the smell of herbs drifting through the air.

Tinyclaw passed under the curtain of ferns and headed for Yellowfang and Brackenpaw. The old medicine cat was lying on the mossy floor of the little clearing, paws tucked under her chest. Brackenpaw was a pace before her, sitting awkwardly because of his injured leg. His gaze was focused on Yellowfang.

"One-eye's pads are cracked because of the cold," Yellowfang rasped, her orange eyes focused on Brackenpaw intently. "What's the best solution?"

Brackenpaw's tail twitched, and he replied, "Marigold leaves in case of infection, and ointment of yarrow to soften the pads. Poppy seeds if she's in pain, but not too many."

Yellowfang's eyes sparkled. "Well done," she purred.

Brackenpaw ducked a little at the praise, shuffling his paws in embarrassment.

"Right," Yellowfang grunted. "You can take her the leaves and ointment, and come back for the seeds if the cuts are bad. You need to stretch your leg a little – it looks stiff."

"Feels stiff," Brackenpaw agreed. "I'll get on it."

He stood awkwardly, and Tinyclaw winced in pain at the sight of him. Brackenpaw turned towards the den, and caught sight of Tinyclaw. He let out a mewl of greeting, his ears pricked enthusiastically.

"Tinyclaw!" he called. Tinyclaw raised his tail, and Brackenpaw's eyes flickered to the rabbit. "Is that for us?"

Tinyclaw nodded.

"About time!" Yellowfang grunted. "I'm starving."

Tinyclaw was grateful to drop the rabbit at Yellowfang's paws. Yellowfang pulled it over to her and trapped it between her paws, looking at it appreciatively.

"Busy morning?" Tinyclaw guessed.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Yellowfang complained, rolling her eyes. She pressed at the rabbit with a paw and meowed, "I've had every other cat in the Clan in here, complaining about some ache or another. This rabbit looks like it's got a little flesh on its bones for once!"

"Save some for me!" Brackenpaw called from inside the den.

"Get back here quick enough and there might be something," Yellowfang joked back.

Brackenpaw let out an irritated hiss and hobbled out of the den, leaves stuffed in his mouth. Tinyclaw watched him waddle out of the den with pain twisting in his stomach at how painful it looked for Brackenpaw to walk. When Brackenpaw was gone, Tinyclaw turned to Yellowfang.

"Is he doing all right?" he asked, concerned.

"He's fine!" Yellowfang snapped. "Stop worrying about him."

Tinyclaw sighed. "Sorry," he mumbled. He wished he could stop worrying about Brackenpaw. The poor young cat might never be a warrior, all thanks to an accident on the Thunderpath – all because Tinyclaw couldn't stop him and his sister from leaving the camp. Brackenpaw saved his sister, but he might have lost his future.

It's all Bluefur's fault, really, he thought. I couldn't stop the apprentices from leaving, but it was Bluefur that set the trap up for Tigerstar. Too few warriors had been left in camp to protect it, and Tigerstar had been ill – Tinyclaw had been the only spare cat. Bluefur had laid her trail close to the Thunderpath's edge, and it all seemed too convenient – she had been trying to murder Tigerstar, and Tinyclaw knew it.

Yellowfang's wistful sigh brought Tinyclaw out his thoughts.

"What is it?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"I… I just…" Yellowfang trailed off. She collected herself a moment later and replied, "Brackenpaw's leg is as healed as it's going to get. I can't keep him here."

Tinyclaw frowned. "So what are his options?"

"Few," Yellowfang replied. "He could stay in the elder's den for the rest of his life; he could try training as a warrior again… or…"

"Or?"

"Or he could become my apprentice," Yellowfang finished.

Tinyclaw's ears pricked. "Your apprentice?"

Yellowfang hissed, "Yes, my apprentice! What, did you think medicine cats just fell from the sky? No; we're trained, just like any warrior!"

Tinyclaw flatted his ears. "Sorry," he offered meekly. "It just… sounded strange, that's all."

Yellowfang rolled her eyes. "Sometimes I forget that you were a kittypet," she sighed.

Tinyclaw frowned, and then asked, "Have you asked him what he wants to do?"

She shook her head. "I'd planned to bring it up today, with Tigerstar," she rasped. "He did so well helping me with Bluefur and her kits… he'd make a good medicine cat."

"Is that what you want?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Yes," Yellowfang admitted. "But in the end, it's up to him – I can't begrudge him for making his choice."

"Should I talk to him?"

"No," Yellowfang insisted. "Brackenpaw needs to make this choice on his own. No one should influence him."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. "I should be going, then," he decided. "Lots more hunting to do."

Yellowfang nodded to herself, lost in thought. "I'll let you know what he decides," she told him.

Tinyclaw backed away and headed out of the den. All this turmoil because of Bluefur, he thought, anger welling in him. First Redtail, then Ravenpaw, and now it's poor Brackenpaw who's suffering. Determination was in every pawstep.

I have to stop her!

The day after their hunting punishment, Tinyclaw and Graystripe lay crouched in a bed of reeds. Tinyclaw's conversation with Yellowfang and the thoughts following had made him decide that there was no time to waste – they needed to find out what really happened in the battle at Sunningrocks. So here they were, looking out at the frozen river, two paw steps from RiverClan territory.

Graystripe sniffed the air, able to more easily discern scents. "A patrol just went by," he reported. "We'll be safe to cross."

Tinyclaw blinked at the certainty in Graystripe's voice. He was aware of just how much trust he was placing in his friend now, and his knowledge of sneaking into other territories. I'd rather be caught by a RiverClan patrol than deal with Oakheart or Whitestorm catching us. If they got caught breaking the warrior code a second time they would be crow-food.

"All right," Tinyclaw meowed quietly. "Let's go."

Graystripe nodded and led the way through the reeds and out onto the ice. Tinyclaw tipped his head at how confidently Graystripe strode across the ice, his heavy body low to make sure his weight was spread evenly. Tinyclaw copied Graystripe to the best of his ability – being smaller made the balancing a little more awkward.

Tinyclaw's fur prickled at the thought of the water swallowing him up, the ice crunching and giving way beneath him. His dream and Redtail's warning flashed in his mind – beware the water. What if he fell and drowned here?

Before he knew it, Tinyclaw was on the other side, standing beside Graystripe. The gray warrior was stiff with fear.

"I must be mouse-brained," Graystripe hissed. "You made me promise to meet Silverstream only at Fourtrees so we wouldn't be caught… and now, here we are!"

"This is necessary," Tinyclaw reminded him. "But, I'm sorry anyway."

"Yeah, yeah," Graystripe sighed. "The things I do for friends."

Graystripe opened his jaws, and then led the way into another bed of reeds. Tinyclaw followed, feeling like a kittypet again – being led into a strange place, surrounded by unfamiliar scents. For a moment, Tinyclaw wondered what things would be like if he'd joined RiverClan instead of ThunderClan, but that wasn't something to dwell on now.

"How far?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Not far," Graystripe promised. He flicked his tail and meowed, "There's an island up ahead, surrounded by reeds and willow trees. See it?"

Tinyclaw poked his head above the reeds. There, not far off, was a tangle of reeds that seemed like a natural wall. Huge willow trees, their branches sheltering the area like a screen of lichen, grew here and there. Tinyclaw imagined that in newleaf this area would be well-protected by nature.

"Do they swim across?" Tinyclaw wondered, seeing the ice crawling up the reeds and willow branches.

Graystripe shook his head. "No," he replied. "Silverstream says the water is really shallow. It's no problem to just pad across."

Tinyclaw frowned, glad that he didn't have to get his feet wet just to get into camp.

They kept going. RiverClan territory was a little like WindClan's, but with more vegetation. Flat plains of nothingness stretched almost as far as they eye could see, with only a few spurts of reeds, hawthorn bushes, and willow trees growing here and there. It didn't seem like there was much room for land-based prey.

Graystripe led them up a slope and around the camp, keeping a good distance from the RiverClan cats but getting a good view of them at the same time. From this angle Tinyclaw could practically see into their camp. They settled here, having a good view of the camp and its entrance – a tiny gap in the reeds.

Tinyclaw did his best to peer into the camp. It didn't seem like any cat could see them, and he couldn't identify any cats he knew – but they were moving about, just like ThunderClan cats. Their daily life was so startlingly similar it shocked Tinyclaw. He'd expected something much, much different.

He was so intent on watching the cats in the camp that he didn't notice a tabby she-cat until she was a tail-length away. Tinyclaw froze – but the she-cat had a large squirrel in her jaws. She didn't seem to be able to notice them, and she passed by without incident. Tinyclaw didn't relax until she was in her camp.

"Calm down," Graystripe meowed.

"Easy for you to say!" Tinyclaw hissed, claws digging into the frozen earth. "You're half RiverClan yourself!"

Graystripe rolled his eyes.

Tinyclaw kept his eyes fixed on the camp entrance as it twitched. Leopardfur, the RiverClan deputy, stepped through – behind her strolled three other cats. Tinyclaw's eyes locked onto Leopardfur's dappled pelt as unease roiled in his belly. Leopardfur had no love for ThunderClan thanks to an encounter at the gorge where one of her warriors died. Leopardfur did not forgive easily.

"A patrol," Graystripe guessed.

Tinyclaw said nothing. He didn't dare to breathe until Leopardfur and her patrol set off in the opposite direction and were gone.

Almost immediately after, a familiar silver shape appeared.

Graystripe's ears pricked, and Tinyclaw craned his neck with interest. Unfortunately, Silverstream was not alone – the smoky warrior Blackclaw was with her, along with a smaller cat who seemed to be Blackclaw's apprentice.

"Hunting patrol," Graystripe guessed, disappointment in his voice.

Blackclaw led the patrol up the slope. Tinyclaw pressed himself to the ground, hissing in fear. Graystripe laid his tail along Tinyclaw's shoulders in a calming gesture, but Tinyclaw could see that Graystripe was just as worried. Blackclaw or his apprentice could scent them easily any moment now.

StarClan must have been on their side. As the patrol approached the bushes, Silverstream's nose twitched and her head rose. Graystripe let out a quiet hiss, and Silverstream stood stock-still. Her ear swiveled in Graystripe's direction.

"Silverstream!" Graystripe called softly.

"Blackclaw!" Silverstream called. "I'll try for a mouse in the bushes here. Don't wait up!"

Blackclaw let out a mewl of agreement and went on ahead, veering away from the bushes. Tinyclaw breathed in relief as Silverstream pushed her way into the reeds and thrust her muzzle towards Graystripe. The two rubbed muzzles and purred.

"I thought you only wanted to meet at Fourtrees!" Silverstream meowed, pulling away. "What's going on?"

"I brought Tinyclaw," Graystripe answered. "He needs to ask you something important."

Silverstream's eyes flashed. Tinyclaw guessed that she was recalling the battle in the WindClan camp, where Tinyclaw had let her escape instead of shredding her in a furious rampage. She swallowed, then dipped her head. "What is it you want?"

"I need to know what happened at the battle for Sunningrocks," Tinyclaw told her. "The one where Swiftclaw died. Where you there?"

Silverstream shook her head. "Sorry, no," she replied. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Is this… important?"

"Yes, very," Tinyclaw replied emphatically. "Could you maybe ask someone who was there? This is -"

Silverstream cut him off. "I'll do you one better," she decided. "I'll bring Tawnypelt herself."

Tinyclaw's fur rose, and he glanced at Graystripe. Graystripe shrugged, looking just as alarmed.

"It's OK," Silverstream assured them. "Tawnypelt knows about Graystripe and I. She doesn't like it, but she wouldn't tell a soul. She won't give me away, and she'll come if I ask her. We've been friends since I was a kit!"

Tinyclaw hesitated, but realized that it was either risk talking to Tawnypelt, or go home with no answers at all. He decided, "Go ahead. Thank you."

Silverstream nodded and slid out of the bushes. Tinyclaw watched her trot towards her camp, slipping through the entrance like a fish. Tinyclaw sighed – his nerves were more frayed than a kit-scratched bit of bark, and he didn't know how long he could manage sitting here.

"Isn't she the best?" Graystripe sighed wistfully.

Tinyclaw resisted the urge to jokingly gag.

They settled back down to wait, backing a little further into the bushes. Every moment that passed, Tinyclaw sank his claws a little further into the cold soil. His limbs were shaking, and he couldn't control the lashing of his tail.

He was about to decide that Silverstream wasn't coming when the camp entrance twitched and her silver shape slid out again. This time, she was followed by a mottled gray-and-ginger she-cat. Tinyclaw kept himself low, but narrowed his eyes through the reeds, tracking Silverstream and Tawnypelt as they trekked up the hill and into the bushes.

When Tawnypelt sighted Graystripe and Tinyclaw she stiffened, the fur rising along her spine and broad shoulders. Tinyclaw frowned. What if the queen decided to betray them?

"Tawnypelt," Silverstream began, "These are -"

"ThunderClan!" Tawnypelt hissed. "Yes, Silverstream – I can smell them! What are they doing on our territory?"

"T-Tawnypelt!" Silverstream blurted, flustered. "Please!"

Tawnypelt shook her head in frustration. She lashed her tail at Graystripe. "I'll keep your secret about him," she growled. "But if you start bringing every warrior in ThunderClan here I'm afraid I'll have to start talking!"

Silverstream rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Tawnypelt," she sighed.

"Tawnypelt," Tinyclaw offered, heart beating in his ears, "we haven't taken any prey, and we aren't here to spy. We just need to speak to a cat who fought at Sunningrocks, in the battle where Swiftclaw died."

Tawnypelt narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she asked, her voice low.

"It's… difficult to explain," Tinyclaw insisted, hoping his lame excuse would be enough, "but I swear to StarClan that it's nothing that will affect RiverClan."

"By StarClan, eh?" Tawnypelt breathed. The queen unbent her spine, but her eyes remained judgmentally narrowed. "We'll see."

Graystripe's eyes flickered between Tinyclaw and Tawnypelt. He coughed, then meowed, "If… you two are going to be talking, Silverstream and I will leave you to it."

Tinyclaw opened his jaws to protest – was Graystripe really going to leave him alone with Tawnypelt in enemy territory? – but Graystripe and Silverstream were already gone, heading through the reeds with tails twined together and purrs in the air.

Tawnypelt saw this too and rolled her green eyes. "That poor cat is going to get herself into trouble with him, I just know it," she sighed.

Tinyclaw grunted in agreement.

Tawnypelt settled herself down in the reeds, tucking her paws underneath her. "I suppose I ought to tell you," she began, "before you leave, try and find something stinky to roll in. Fox dung works well."

Tinyclaw curled his lip.

"Your denmates might not thank you," Tawnypelt added, "but it works." Her tail flicked. "You're Tinyclaw, yes? I've seen you at Gatherings."

"Yes," Tinyclaw replied.

Tawnypelt looked him over, green eyes sparkling. "Fitting name," she decided. "You used to be a kittypet, they say." It was a question veiled as a statement.

"Yes," Tinyclaw repeated. "I'm a warrior now."

Tawnypelt studied his face for a long moment, her eyes piercing. Then, she asked, "Well… I'm here. I was at the battle. Ask away."

Tinyclaw frowned, pulling all this thoughts together. He would only have one chance for this, and making a mistake wasn't an option.

"Come on, Tinyclaw," Tawnypelt sighed. "I left my kits to see you."

"It won't take long," Tinyclaw insisted. "What can you tell me about the way Swiftclaw died?"

"Swiftclaw?" Tawnypelt's eyes widened. She took a deep breath. "Swiftclaw was my brother – did you know that?"

Tinyclaw shook his head. "I'm sorry," he meowed. "I never met him, but I heard he was a brave warrior."

"He was the best and the bravest," Tawnypelt offered wistfully. "My brother Brambleclaw and I looked up to him. He never should have died – it was an accident."

"An accident?" Tinyclaw's ears pricked. "Are you sure?"

Tawnypelt nodded. "He had been wounded in the battle, but not enough to kill him. When he didn't come back from the battle, we went looking for him and found his body under some rocks. Our medicine cat said that was what killed him."

"So no cat was responsible…" Tinyclaw murmured. "Ravenpaw was right!"

"Hm?" The tortoiseshell queen frowned.

"It's nothing," Tinyclaw said hastily. "Thank you, Tawnypelt. This is exactly what I wanted to know."

Tawnypelt tipped her head. "Then if that's all…"

"Wait!" Tinyclaw said suddenly. "There's one more thing – in the battle, one of our cats heard Swiftclaw say that no ThunderClan cat would harm Brambleclaw. Do you know what he meant?"

Tawnypelt narrowed her eyes in thought. Then, she shook her head. "That doesn't seem like Swiftclaw…"

"He was yours and Brambleclaw's brother," Tinyclaw guessed. "Maybe he wanted to protect you?"

Tawnypelt shook her head. She insisted, "No – he would never do anything like that. He always wanted us to be strong warriors, and he would never try to protect us from any one threat."

Tinyclaw tipped his head in confusion. "Then why…?"

"I don't know," Tawnypelt replied. The thought seemed to disturb her, and she dug her claws into the ground. She seemed genuinely puzzled.

Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. Ravenpaw's comment about Swiftclaw saying such a thing had concerned him. Though Tinyclaw knew now how Swiftclaw had really died, he had a feeling that this was another piece of the puzzle somehow.

"My mother might know," Tawnypelt decided suddenly, breaking Tinyclaw out from his thoughts. "Goldenflower – Swiftclaw was from her first litter. If she can't explain it, no one can."

"Could you ask her?" For some reason, this seemed important. Tinyclaw could feel it in his bones.

"Maybe," Tawnypelt mused, "but it might be better for you to talk to her yourself." She seemed just as intrigued about this mystery as Tinyclaw, if not more so.

Tinyclaw was shocked – Tawnypelt had seemed so guarded and hostile before. Because of this mystery, was she really going to let Tinyclaw talk to her mother? "Right now?" he wondered.

Tawnypelt shook her head. "No," she meowed, "not now. Leopardfur's patrol will be back soon, and it's too risky for you to stay any longer. Besides, Goldenflower is an elder – her hips aren't what they used to be. She'll need a warm day and a little persuading before she'll come out of camp."

Tinyclaw bowed his head in understanding. He was willing to do whatever it took to unravel this mystery, but he had to acknowledge that, as an elder, Goldenflower had hit her limits. Even though every part of him wanted to speak with her right now, he knew Tawnypelt was right. "How will I know where to meet her?"

"I'll send a message with Silverstream," Tawnypelt promised. "Now go – if Leopardfur finds you here, I won't be able to help you."

Tinyclaw wished there was some way he could appropriately thank the queen for being so forthcoming and risking herself like this – but Tinyclaw feared he might leave with a clawed ear. Though she had let go of the majority of her hostility, Tawnypelt was not about to let him forget that they were of different Clans.

She's a fierce cat, he thought, lovely and strong. Whomever is her mate is very, very lucky. She reminded him of Sandstorm, and Tinyclaw was happy that he had no desire to look for a mate outside his Clan.

"I won't forget this," Tinyclaw offered. "If there's anything I can do for you -"

"Just go," Tawnypelt hissed, baring her teeth.

Tinyclaw jumped in shock and got to his paws. He began heading out of the bushes and towards his own territory. Tawnypelt's amused voice followed him: "Don't forget the fox dung!"