I DO NOT OWN WARRIOR CATS! (REWRITTEN!) PLEASE READ THE A/N AT THE VERY BOTTOM! THERE ARE IMPORTANT NOTES THERE!

Hey guys, sorry for the long hiatus! I have a bunch of tests coming up, so I'll try to get working on the next rewrite, but please expect the next rewritten chapter sometime in June! Sorry for the inconvenience!


Third Person – Cinderpelt

She hummed in amusement, earning a curious look from Leafpool as the smoky-haired woman rifled through the shelves. The brunette had stumbled on the blue-eyed woman when she came into the library to work on her sketches. From there on, the two women had worked separately, tending to their separate needs.

Astertail's shy, flushed face flickered through Cinderpelt's mind again and she chuckled, earning another glance from her student. Yesterday, one of the maids had been dared by her friends to flirt with the groomsman. The maid spent the entire day flattering the brunet and brushing up against him whenever he passed. The pair had earned quite a few bemused looks from the aristocrats, who knew very little of the situation. Cinderpelt herself had only stumbled across the true nature of this flirtation when one of the maid's friends was gossiping in the hallway. It amused her that they had enough frivolity to tease the groomsman to a stammering mess.

She had to admit, however, that Astertail's chivalry was refreshing and heartwarming. He always looked so pleased whenever she thanked him for his willingness to drive Leafpool to and from Lilystone. It seemed that the smallest things could bring happiness to the brunet, a feat that was extremely rare amongst the people Cinderpelt had grown acquainted to. It was difficult for anyone to stay angry at him, especially when he widened his warm brown eyes and blushed at them. Even the strict head butler had a soft spot for the groomsman, often cracking a small smile whenever he was around.

Although she found herself giving into Featherpelt and Leafpool's insistencies and growing more fond of Astertail with each passing day, a part of her held her back. Despite having passed into a new life where love was not taboo to those who practiced medicine, Cinderpelt still felt obligated to follow the rules established for medicine cats. She still felt as if love stood as an entity that she would never acquire due to her status and practice. She still felt as if she was cheated of love—something that every medicine cat experienced in his or her lifetime. Some had even fallen prey to their desires—Yellowfang and Leafpool—and had paid a heavy price for their "wrongs".

Is it still wrong to fall in love now? Similar to how she had died as a cat, Yellowfang had passed away after an arsonist had succeeded in burning down one of Herobexy's mansions. Leafpool had yet to feel the pull of her past affections and Spottedleaf had fallen prey to her sentiments. All around her, she saw former medicine cats struggling to make the change into a society where love wasn't illegal. Most of the doctors who weren't connected to Starreign had an easier time integrating into love, but mediators like Littlecloud, Mudfur, and Cinderpelt herself were finding it difficult to take part in or initiate romantic appeals.

But Astertail's shy tendencies and clumsy actions were cutting through Cinderpelt's reluctance like a knife. Each time he gave her a bashful smile, each time he glanced longingly in her direction, each time she saw how pleased he was whenever she praised him, she found herself wanting to be a part of something more. She wanted to be more than just a mentor. She wanted to be more than just a doctor. She wanted more than just respected. She wanted to be happy. She wanted to raise a family. She wanted to be loved.

Maybe things would've been different if she wasn't so scared of the past. But every time Cinderpelt felt a slight tug toward Astertail, her damaged leg would cramp up immediately and she would be reminded of the monster that towered over her and disabled her for life. She could see the parallels between her past life and the one she led now—her smashed leg had taken away her future as a cat and there was no doubt that it would take away her future now as a human. But the question that spoke louder than the suspicious parallels and the fleeting moments of déjà vu was 'who would ever fall in love with such a broken body?'

That's what she was. Broken. Burdened with the secret of being a mediator, restricted by the limits of her deformed leg, haunted by the past that seemed to engulf more and more of her future—Cinderpelt was like the shattered porcelain doll on the floor—unintentionally dropped and hazardously repaired for second-hand use. And if to add onto her towering, suffocating list of responsibilities, she knew that Leafpool was carefully following in her footsteps. The expectations of leading someone to a place she had never been before was overwhelming. Leafpool deserves more than anyone to be happy, Cinderpelt thought, remembering the bitter, suffering-rich life the brunette had led. Curiously enough, a small voice in the back of her head gently reminded her, but so do you.


Rubbing down her mare, Cinderpelt couldn't help the gentle smile that touched her lips as she ran her hands down the horse's flank. The return to horseback riding had been terrifying at first when the memories of having her leg smashed to bits was still fresh in her mind, but Firestar had eventually coaxed her into riding again. Thank Starreign he did that, she thought appreciatively as her mare pressed her nose against her.

Satisfied, the blue-eyed woman led her horse into the stables, pleasantly surprised to see that Astertail was filling up the trough with an oat mix. Always going out of his way to help others, she thought bemusedly. He looked up as she approached, a startled blush making its way across his cheeks. "Cinderpelt! I saw Mist was out and I just thought…" He trailed off, glancing uneasily at the half-filled trough.

"Thank you," she replied calmly, leading her mare further into the stables. "She deserves a nice, hearty meal after a good ride." Astertail seemed to relax significantly as the horse approached him. The gray mare pushed her nose against his cheek, huffing fondly as he stroked her cheek. After a few moments, she began nosing around his pockets, tail swishing from side to side. Laughing, the brunet gently pushed her aside, earning a curious look from Cinderpelt. It was the first time she had heard such a carefree laugh from the groomsman.

The world seemed to disappear around Astertail as he worked with Mist. The blue-eyed aristocrat felt a wave of newfound respect swell in her chest as she watched the two of them. The way the brunet tended to her mare was the same way she tended to her patients. "Oh no you don't, Mist," he cooed affectionately, shoving the mare's muzzle away from his pockets. "Dessert comes after your meal. I'll come back with your sugar cubes and apples later." The horse huffed irritably in his face, but nuzzled him regardless. She calmly walked into her stall, throwing a lazy look over her shoulder as Astertail gently closed the door behind her.

Cinderpelt felt a twinge of disappointment when the brunet's broad grin faded slightly as he turned to her. Instead, it was quickly replaced with a blush. "I'm sorry, I just ignored you there," he stammered.

"No problem." She smiled at him. "I'm glad to see that my horse is well taken care of."

"Only the best, ma'am." The boyish grin was back, this time accompanied by its own, pleased flush. The conversation quickly faded into an awkward silence and Cinderpelt grew more and more aware of Astertail's nervous movements. Deciding that it was time to leave, she nodded at the groomsman.

"Well, I suppose I'll be off," she announced, turning to the stable doors. "I guess I'll see you arou—"

"Wouldyouliketohaveteawithme?" She froze and blinked at him dazedly.

"E-excuse me?" Astertail's face was beet red as he shyly raised his honey-brown eyes to meet hers.

"Would you like to have tea with me?" He repeated quietly. Cinderpelt stared at him for a few long moments, replaying the question repeatedly in her head. Just as he was about to open his mouth to dismiss the offer, the words clicked and she gave him a small smile.

"That would be wonderful," she murmured.


Third Person – Leafpool

After finishing her sketches for the day, Leafpool had wandered out of library in search of Squirrelflight. She eventually found her sister sitting by the river, giving Ashfur half-interested glances as he leaned up against the tree she was sitting at. When the redhead caught sight of the brunette, a look of relief crossed her face and she waved Leafpool over. "Leafa! You done with your studies today?"

"Today was sort of a relaxation day," she informed Squirrelflight as she knelt down beside her sister. "Good afternoon, Ashfur." She nodded to the blue-eyed aristocrat.

"Good afternoon, Leafpool," he replied pleasantly. He quickly turned his attention to Squirrelflight, who rolled her eyes inconspicuously at the brunette. Giving her sister a wry smile, Leafpool steeled herself for Ashfur's rambles as she nestled into Squirrelflight's side. "…as I was saying, I think bloodhounds are the best hunting dogs around. They have a great sense of smell and they're loud enough to lead their masters to their game."

"The problem is if they're too noisy," Squirrelflight sighed. "They'll scare off all the rest of the game and then you'll left with one lousy bird that couldn't get away in time."

"Well I'm sure that you can train them to be a little more obedient," he defended himself lightly. "What do you think, Leafpool?"

"I don't know much about hunting," she replied, throwing him a hesitant smile. "But I know father likes to use red hounds," she added quickly when the gray-haired aristocrat deflated slightly.

"Red hounds?" He perked up immediately at her words. "But their coloring could give them away before they can even spot the game."

"My hair is red," Squirrelflight cut in scathingly. "Are you saying that my hair color would give me out as well?" She turned her poisonous green eyes onto Ashfur. "Mind you, my papa's an excellent hunter—and his hair is redder than mine!" The gray-haired man seemed taken aback by Squirrelflight's outburst and recoiled from her slightly.

"I'm sorry, that didn't come out right," he apologized quickly, appeasing the redhead before her anger could settle. "I didn't mean to insult you." Leafpool watched as her sister's shoulders sagged in defeat, a disappointed glimmer flickering through her eyes. Smiling sympathetically, the brunette gently leaned onto her sister.

If it were Brambleclaw, he would've persisted in the argument. It was obvious that the redhead missed her old arguing partner and the fact that he was currently the focus of her affections mad e her miss him all the more. But as dark-haired brunet's visits have been less frequent for the past few weeks, Squirrelflight's schedule became punctuated with numerous "coincidental encounters" with Ashfur. She wasn't quite rude enough to tell the blue-eyed aristocrat to back off, but her pride wouldn't allow her to plead Brambleclaw to come over.

"It's alright," she muttered, ignoring the hopeful light in Ashfur's eyes. "Just don't do that again." Rising to her feet, she gently brushed off the back of her trousers before heading back to the manor. The blue-eyed man took a step toward her retreating figure, but held himself back. He glanced at Leafpool in confusion, who smiled at him with a shrug.

Trying to offer up an excuse to her sister's drastic shift in mood, Leafpool murmured, "I think she's just tired."

"Of course." He didn't look particularly convinced by her words, but he accepted them nonetheless. Giving her a brief, friendly smile, Ashfur stepped toward the direction of the West Gate. "I'll see you around," he promised before turning away.

I'd rather you stay away, Leafpool sighed bitterly. She had received a letter from Tawnypelt just this morning regarding the prickly, frustrated airhead more commonly known as her brother. The brunette had complained about how Brambleclaw did nothing but mope and snap at people whenever they voiced their concern for him.

"He's always looking at the carriages and looks like he's going to board one and ride as fast as he can over to where your sister is, but BAM! Next second he's scowling and grumbling as he leaves the servants confused as to whether they should actually prepare the carriage for him. I swear to Starreign—my brother is changing moods as frequently as a landed fish thrashes for water!" Tawnypelt's letter was full of snippets like this, complaining mostly about her brother while throwing in a question or two about Squirrelflight's antics. Leafpool felt guilty for going behind her sister's back, but the Herobexy aristocrat quickly convinced her it was for a greater good.

Today's letter also brought some startling news. "Can you believe that Crowfeather and Feathertail are pushing back their wedding? For the past few weeks' it's been 'let's get this wedding started as soon as humanly possible' and 'I want to get married by the end of spring' and then suddenly they're announcing that they'll put it on hold until Crowfeather becomes of age. They haven't made clear whose idea it was, but I have a feeling that it was Feathertail. They had a pretty rough courting, so I'm guessing she wanted to slow down for a more romantic feel."

Although she felt an overwhelming amount of confusion regarding the wedding, a part of her was relieved that Crowfeather wasn't getting married just yet. "According to Stormfur, Graystripe and Crowfeather seemed to make some sort of agreement on his engagement to Feathertail. It was something along the lines of 'let me get engaged with your daughter before anyone else can steal me away'. It sounded pretty crazy to me when he first told me about it, but then I remembered that Crowfeather's been chasing after Feathertail ever since we were kids. I think it's a little sweet how in love he is." Leafpool's heart had throbbed painfully at these words, but she had quickly pushed them aside before they could settle.

"Anyway, Feathertail showed me the rings she was being married in. Just between you and me, I don't think they're the best fit for her and Crowfeather, but I guess whatever makes her happy is enough to keep the engagement going." It was relieving to know that she and Featherpelt weren't the only ones who were uncomfortable with Feathertail's choice of jewelry. It could be argued that her sense of fashion could be lacking, but with the careful extravagance of the silver-haired aristocrat's clothes and the house of Riverside's reputation for being talented artisans, it was highly unlikely that that theory was true.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Leafpool pulled herself out of her thoughts and headed back into the manor. Perhaps she would find solace there, amongst familiar faces and warm voices.


"You are troubled," Bluestar murmured worriedly when Leafpool stirred, easing into the dreamscape. Her blue eyes flickered with concern. "Is it of your sister?"

"I would hardly think she would come to us about Crowfeather," Yellowfang snorted, whiskers twitching in amusement when the blue she-cat shot her a half-hearted glare. "Ashfur's causing trouble for Brambleclaw now, isn't he?" An exasperated look crossed her face. "Both of them have always been so stubborn—Brambleclaw in particular."

"Squirrelflight's been feeling uneasy," Leafpool murmured, noticing the wary look the two Starreign cats shared. A nervous bubble rose inside of her, but she ignored it as she continued, "she's afraid that her feelings are reciprocated. The rest of us know that Brambleclaw still isn't sure where he stands right now, but…it's causing a lot more trouble than I initially expected."

"Toms," the gray she-cat muttered irritably, earning a bemused glance from Bluestar.

"Brambleclaw has a lot of reason to be wary of love," the blue-eyed cat mused. "He has lost both parents—one to selfishness and the other to greed."

Leafpool felt a stab of sympathy for the brown tom. It had been a scandalous outrage when Tigerstar lashed out at Bluestar, hoping to steal her position as head of Herobexy. She could understand his desperation for it—he was popular amongst the youth, but the older generation was extremely wary of him. In addition to that, there were many other appealing candidates for the head and Bluestar had yet to reach the age to pass her position onto a successor. Before long, the elders' disapproving whispers had driven Tigerstar to near insanity, uprooting all reason and driving him to attack Bluestar in a fit of rage.

He had claimed her life then, taking away the lives of several others when they tried to restrain him. It was a massacre—four Herobexy and two visiting Riverside aristocrats were killed in the fray. In his fit of rage, Tigerstar had ripped the life of Brindleface away from her four children—one of which being Cloudtail, Firestar's nephew. When he had dragged down Bluestar, Stonefur and Oakheart had lost their lives in their attempts to immobilize him. Whitestorm and Runningwind were the last of the massacre, but a suicide note from Darkstripe had revealed that the murderer was also responsible for Swiftpaw and Redtail's deaths.

The entire house was scandalized. Immediate orders from the capital were given to execute Tigerstar before he caused any more damage. When Goldenflower had gone to his room with her children to pay her last respects to her corrupted husband, he had taken her captive, threatening her with a jagged shard of glass he had hidden in his clothes. It had taken a total of five minutes for the Herobexy knight force to arrive, and just as the first arrow pierced Tigerstar's body, he thrust the glass into his wife's throat and Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt witness the simultaneous murder of mother and the last wicked gleam fade from their father's eyes.

There had been a total of eight deaths in total—seven victims and one murderer. There was news that the house of Herobexy would never be seen the same way after this scandal, and in many ways this was true. However, with time, the condescending whispers of the peasants and other nobles transitioned to rain hellfire onto Tigerstar's remaining "bastard children" before fading into nothingness. Both Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt carried the scars of their past, often flinching at the mention of their mother's name and growling at any comment regarding their "father".

Brambleclaw had a gaping, tender wound torn into his heart. It had been just recently that two new aristocrats had been found in the midst of peasantry before their mother admitted that their father was none other than the infamous Tigerstar. Tawnypelt had been the first to recover from the news, choosing to depend on her ties to the house of Shadowrim while Brambleclaw secluded himself in his room, worrying everyone in his group of friends.

"I think Squirrelflight is upset with Brambleclaw's friendship with Hawkfrost," Leafpool murmured after a few moments of silence. "She's been spending more and more time with Ashfur because she knows that Brambleclaw can barely stand him, but she's been acting strangely around him lately." Her mind flickered back to Squirrelflight's obvious discomfort in the blue-eyed aristocrat's presence. "He's been pushing himself onto her a lot more than he used to."

"Ashfur faces similar pains to those of Brambleclaw's," Bluestar replied. "He has lost both his parents to Tigerstar's greed."

"He loved too much," Yellowfang muttered. Leafpool's ear twitched in confusion at the gray she-cat's words, but they obviously unnerved Bluestar in some manner.

"I apologize, Leafpool," the blue she-cat rumbled after a few tense seconds. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave us for tonight. Yellowfang and I have matters to tend to."

"I'm perfectly content with resting here for the rest of the day," the amber-eyed cat shot back, unfazed by the harshness of Bluestar's glare. Feeling her pelt prickle uncomfortably at the static in the air, Leafpool hastily bid farewell to both cats before rushing out of the clearing, effectively forcing herself out of the dream and back into reality.


Third Person – Omniscient

"What are you thinking?" Bluestar snarled, stalking over to Yellowfang. The gray she-cat blinked at her coolly, the twitch of her tail tip giving away her discomfort. "The past is not to be revealed to those who are not mediators!"

"Leafpool has every ability and right to become a mediator," Yellowfang shot back, rising to her paws. "Just watch—Littlecloud or one of the other mediators is going to let information of that position slip and then she'll know. Then she'll want to become a mediator. We were given a second life to live to the fullest, Bluestar," she growled softly, "what are you doing—keeping her from everything she can be?"

"You don't understand! Her past is something that should never be repeated!" The blue-eyed cat snapped.

"Just because we know doesn't mean that we'll repeat it."

"Every action we make is influenced by our past." Bluestar stepped forward until she was invading Yellowfang's space, face hovering inches away from the older she-cat. "I know you've had your hard times and I've lost my kits just as you've lost yours. But Leafpool was condemned by everyone around her, hated by the cats she loved most, and she thought she was the reason that everyone was suffering! She blames Cinderpelt's death on herself, her kits hating her on herself, Bramblecl—Bramblestar and Squirrelflight's ruined relationship on herself—she was broken before and I have no interest in seeing her broken again!"

"You can't keep someone's past from them," Yellowfang hissed. "That's not morally correct!"

"Sometimes you lie to do the right thing," Bluestar grit out.

"Is it the right thing?"

"I'm giving her a chance to lead a new life," she spat out. "I'm giving her a life where she'll be free from the shadows of the past—free from all the things that caused her to suffer in the first place!"

"That's where you're wrong," Yellowfang whispered coldly. "I understand the reasons behind your concern, Bluestar, but Leafpool is not to be coddled and sheltered like you want her to be. Life is worthless if there is no struggle. Life is meaningless if there is no truth. Life will become a thundercloud hanging over her like a plague until one day the truth strikes her like lightning!" She paused, composing herself before continuing in a calmer voice. "Leafpool needs to know of the past. She can't be sheltered from it and we have no right to keep it from her."

The blue-eyed she-cat stared at her for a few minutes before dropping her head in defeat. "Out of all the cats in the world—why her?" Bluestar choked out.

"She loved too much," Yellowfang sighed. "The best of us always do." She paused, throwing a warning look over her shoulder at a faraway patch of grass. "As do others," she growled menacingly as she gazed into the glowing amber eyes that peeked through the green blades, "who aren't the best." Bluestar raised her head and gazed over Yellowfang's shoulder curiously, but the eavesdropper had already slipped away, disappearing in the dappled forest as they carried the secrets of the conversation into their hearts.


Third Person – Featherpelt

He couldn't deny the smug feeling filling the corners of his body when he saw a wary, uncertain Crowfeather hovering around the front of the shop. It had taken the boy several months to gather his wits and return to the very shop he said he wouldn't. Whiteear caught his eye and raised an eyebrow when he caught a glimpse of the wavering aristocrat through the window. "Don't let it get to your head," the shopkeeper warned when Featherpelt couldn't keep his know-it-all smirk in. "He may be here about the rings."

Well I couldn't give two craps about the rings. It was a lie of course—he cared dearly about the rings. Any jeweler would treat his rings the same, regardless of whether he liked the person he sold them to or not. "But of course." Nodding his head to Whiteear, Featherpelt quietly slipped his messenger pack over his head, settling the strap across his torso securely. "I'll run a few errands while I'm out," he told his mentor when the white-haired man glanced curiously at him. "Is there anything you need—or fancy?"

"Drop by Swanpelt's bakery and pick up some bread," the shopkeeper replied monotonously. Featherpelt gave a knowing look to the green-eyed man and Whiteear sighed before grumbling, "And pick up a few treats for me. You know which ones." Satisfied, the blond man nodded at his mentor before casually leaving the shop, plastering a look of surprise on his face when Crowfeather whirled around to see him.

"Mon dieu, Crowfeather, what are you doing here?" Patting himself on the back for his excellent acting skills, he hid his amusement at the flustered look the aristocrat adopted. "Are there any complications regarding the rings?"

"Rings? No, the rings are fine." The dark-haired teenager seemed thoroughly confused by Featherpelt's words, but brushed it off quickly.

"Is that so? Then I shall be on my way." Tilting his head slightly, he gave Crowfeather a small bow before turning his attention to the street signs around him. He could almost feel the teenager's hesitancy and a small smile crossed Featherpelt's face knowingly—it would be some time before the aristocrat would speak up, but it wouldn't seem to take long.

"I thought about what you said," Crowfeather blurted out. Featherpelt, just to humor the boy, threw a half-interested look over his shoulder. "You…were right. I shouldn't be criticizing your desire to marry Leafpool when I'm about to marry Feathertail myself. You two should be free to love, as is."

These weren't the words he had been expecting. Deciding to egg the teenager on, the blond man turned back to the aristocrat and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Oh, Leafpool and I aren't getting married," he replied smoothly. "In fact, we've never been in love at all."

"What?" The look on Crowfeather's face was priceless.

"I heard you postponed your wedding for a few more months—more like two years," the jeweler prattled on, blue eyes watching the aristocrat warily. "Why change your mind so suddenly? Weren't you going to hold the marriage earlier—isn't that what your dear fiancée wanted?"

"F-Feathertail had no objections to my proposition to postpone it," the teenager spluttered, still stunned by Featherpelt's earlier words. Oh? The blond man's eyes narrowed slightly. Why would a woman so rushed to get married be so willing to place it on hiatus? "And what's this about not being married to Leafpool?" Realization crossed Crowfeather's face. "You tricked me," he accused, pointing a finger at the jeweler.

"Didn't your mother tell you it was impolite to point?" Featherpelt snipped mildly. Caught off guard, the blue-eyed aristocrat merely stared at him. "Anyway, why are you so upset that I lied? They were merely words spoken in the heat of the moment."

"Because otherwise I wouldn't have postponed my wedding!"

"Then why didn't you? You could've tested to see whether I was actually going to marry Leafpool or not." Featherpelt crossed his arms around his chest. "If you're so in love with your fiancée as you say you are, why couldn't you have just married her and done away with Leafpool? She is none of your concern."

"She's my friend," Crowfeather protested. "I…I care for her."

"Is that so?" The blond man cocked his head slightly at the aristocrat. "I may not be engaged to Leafpool or participating in a romantic relationship with her, but she does confide in me frequently. You two aren't close. In fact, she hesitated to even call you a friend." A flash of pain flickered through Crowfeather's eyes. "Now why is that? Why do you call her a friend while she only knows you as a familiar acquaintance?"

"I…we're friends," the boy murmured distraughtly. He turned his blue eyes onto Featherpelt, looking thoroughly lost. "Why…why would she say that? Even though we care for each other—"

"I'm afraid you'll have to rethink in what way you care for her before I can answer that question for you," Featherpelt cut him off quickly. "When you know what truly lies in your heart and whose face truly lingers in your dreams…" He turned away from the aristocrat, casting one last glance over his shoulder. "…feel free to find me at the Red Sapphire."


The streets were more crowded than usual. Featherpelt strained to remember if there was any particular event that was happening in the plaza. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been sandwiched between so many people. He was pushed and shoved in all directions as he struggled to return to the shop, arms wrapped around Whiteear's precious baked goods. It would be a struggle to make it through the crowds without squishing the pastries—and beside, the shopkeeper would sympathize with him if he saw the state of the streets—right?

Sighing, Featherpelt wrapped his arms more tightly around himself as he tried to push into the openings in the crowd. It had been rather humid this morning and being flanked by people on all sides made the day all the more uncomfortable for him. Scowling at the sensation of sweat running down his forehead, the blond man shook his head irritably, praying that the liquid wouldn't drip into his eyes. Oh how he hated hot weather.

Someone collided with him and he barely managed to catch the person before they tumbled to the ground. He heard a faint squelch and winced—Whiteear was not going to be pleased with the outcome of his pastries. I'll have to apologize to him—or at least run back and buy some more, Featherpelt sighed, mentally wiping away tears at the thought of spending more of his hard-earned money. Turning his attention to the situation at hand—or rather the girl in his arms—he carefully helped her straighten up. "Excusez-moi, Madmoiselle. Are you alright?" The dazed blonde woman blinked blearily at him before taking in a sharp gasp.

"My herbs!" Scattered around Featherpelt's feet were various dried herbs, each threatened by the trampling feet around them. The blonde man dropped down to his knees, quickly scooping up whatever he could. In front of him, the mystery woman did the same, wincing as heels and shoes stepped on and grazed her outstretched hands.

This just won't do, a small voice in the back of Featherpelt's mind tut-tutted. She'll drop them again when you try to give her your bundle. You'll have to give her your bag. Resting the herbs precariously on his knees, Featherpelt quickly pulled the ruined pastries out of his messenger bag and maneuvered the herbs into the pouch. Opening the bag for the girl, he watched her hesitate before she poured her armful into the messenger bag. Straightening up, he carefully tucked whatever was left of the pastries into his jacket as he moved to hand the filled bag to the stranger

"I do apologize, I hadn't been looking—" he broke off, taking in the girl's appearance for the first time. Golden hair cascaded down onto her shoulders, curling around her cheeks and framing her face in gentle waves. Her blue eyes were clear and wide, reminiscent of the sparkling lakes Featherpelt knew growing up. She was beautiful.

Before he knew it, a gentle smile crossed his face as he handed the stranger his bag. For some reason, he had a feeling he would be meeting her again. "Your herbs," he murmured. He felt a shock run up his arms when their fingers brushed and the startled expression on in the girl's eyes told him she had felt it too. "Adieu," he whispered, brushing past her gently. As he increased the distance between the two of them, he felt her breath linger on his cheek, the softness of her hair brush his neck when she turned her head to watch him leave. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

When he returned to the shop, Whiteear scowled at the state of his pastries, but took them regardless. "How was your walk?" The shopkeeper asked distractedly, grimacing at his soggy custard bun. Featherpelt glanced over his shoulder at his mentor and smiled thoughtfully at him.

"Magnifique," he whispered as he disappeared into the back of the shop. "Absolument magnifique."


A/n: Sorry this chapter is shorter than usual! I actually had a small snippet left, but then I decided that the chapter would end better with Featherpelt than what I had initially planned. Heads up, I'm sorry if the translations I provide are not exact-I am by no means a French speaker and I (unfortunately) have to reference google translate to work in all of the more complex French phrases. As for translations of the last chapter, I assumed that everyone knew the most common phrases in French, but for my later chapters, I will be not assuming such. I'll provide translations for any new French words I use.

Translations: "Excusez-moi, Madmoiselle" - "Excuse me, miss."

"Absolument magnifique." - "Absolutely magnficient."

What's Changed: The chapter originally opened up with Leafpool and Featherpelt celebrating his birthday at the Zephyra manor. There was a huge section of Leafpool talking to Redfern and meeting all of Featherpelt's friends, but as I said, there were some characters that were really unnecessary in this story and I made pains to cut them out in order to make the story flow better. I practically rewrote this entire chapter (except for the last part) and instead of having Whiteear come onto Astertail (because Whiteear was gay in the original draft), I decided that the best way to show Cinderpelt's attraction toward Astertail would be to document her reaction to his relationships with the maids and servants of the manor house.

I also added the little part about Cinderpelt and her horse in order to get a little more depth into her character and life. I also changed the way that Squirrelflight reacts to Ashfur's comment about red hounds and I decided to relay the information about Feathertail and Crowfeather's wedding being pushed back through Tawnypelt's letter to show how Leafpool and Tawnypelt are bonding over difficult times. I also tossed out the thing with Stormfur...I think I'll mention that in a later chapter or so. I couldn't really fit it into this one, so I'll have to see how that'll fit in...

I also threw in a thing with Leafpool, Bluestar, and Yellowfang because I really wanted to explore Yellowfang's famous "he loved too much" quote. Although it was originally said to Jayfeather to explain why Ashfur was eventually admitted into Starclan, I felt it would be interesting if I had her say it to someone who was closer to Ashfur's age. Although he's probably much older than Squirrelflight in the original warrior's series than I'd like, I decided to make him four years older than Squirrelflight. That puts him two years ahead of Brambleclaw, who is already eighteen at this point. Check my second guide if you need reference for ages, but be warned: it hasn't been rewritten yet, so there may be some disconnect.

I also wanted to explore more about Brambleclaw's past. It was really interesting and a bit fun to rewrite what happened to Thunderclan with Tigerstar's betrayal, although I really felt that I overdramatized it. Either way, I sorta like the way it came out and I'm not too sure how to rewrite it if the need were to ever come up again (in the near future). I cut out a few things between Featherpelt and Crowfeather just to make it less awkward and I threw a little something about how Whiteear loves pastries. I'm a bit of a pastry fan myself, so I'm not complaining.

NOTE (I forgot to mention this before): Featherpelt is a character from Hetalia Axis Powers. I understand that this should be somewhat considered a crossover because I'm bringing him into this, but I feel like I'm changing him so much that it really doesn't matter whether I tag it as a crossover or not. Not to mention that, but I seriously doubt two character are going to be enough to force me to label this story as a crossover.

ATTENTION ALL NEW READERS!

You're probably feeling really lost right now, and I apologize sincerely for that. What I do have to say that I do not encourage you to read past what is already rewritten! Part of me is saying this because I don't want you to see how horrible my writing was before this rewrite, but most of me is aware that there is a lot of disconnection between the original story and the tweaks that I've thrown in the rewrite. You are free to read ahead if you want, but it may not be your best choice to do so as you'll only end up spoiling an ending for yourself (which would probably be much better when I rewrite it), forcing yourself to reread something you recently read (if you want to read the rewritten version), and finding yourself confused as to why the story doesn't make all that much sense anymore. Updates are slow, but I'm doing the best I can to balance writing and school right now.

I'll ask this question again: Should I put up a Facebook page of sorts to give you guys alerts on when the next chapter is rewritten? I personally think it would be easier for all of you to know when this story has been updated and it wouldn't be too much work for me to do that. Please please PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

Thank you for reading this, everyone (and thank you in particular for making it through that chunky A/n). I hope to be updating soon and hopefully my schedule will let up so I can get a few more chapters in!

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