"I, I tried to grab him...I didn't do that!" Graystripe was backing away. "He just lost his footing." T
he RiverClan cats were fluffing out their fur, and raising their hackles. Mosspath saw Willowpelt and Whitestorm flank Graystripe on either side.
Leopardfur growled, stepping forward to glare at Tigerclaw.
"This is no longer a border fight." She flicked her tail, then turned and padded away. Her patrol followed Leopardfur.
"We should leave." Deadfoot spoke up. "Fireheart and Graystripe have served us well, and WindClan is grateful." Mosspath felt his words go through her ears. She couldn't shake the image of Whiteclaw's death out of her mind. Tigerclaw nodded.
Fireheart murmured a farewell. Mudclaw gave him a look that lasted no more than a heartbeat, never slowing down.
"Is that it?" Mosspath sighed. "We're leaving them." Deadfoot nodded, quickening his pace.
"We have instructions. Anyway, I doubt Tigerclaw would just let us stroll right into camp."
"You'll see them at Gatherings." Mudclaw gave her ear a quick lick.
"I know, but it won't be the same..." Mosspath trailed off, doubting if the tabby understood. Shrugging, she bounded off to reach the WindClan camp.