Ravenpaw dreamed about Tigerclaw again that night, but this time his dream was more vivid than ever. The shadows of the night were swallowing him. He could feel Tigerclaw's movements as braced himself for his approach, he could hear him so loudly in his mind, he could almost smell the musk of his bloody scent as his breath passed by his ear, his teeth snapping right by his whiskers—

Ravenpaw jolted awake, pelt soaked with sweat, heart pounding, but something was telling him it wasn't just a dream. He scrambled to his paws, his sleepy eyes struggling to focus on what had woken him up. His brain was a torrent of jumbled thoughts. He could scent Yellowfang in the medicine cat den... Spottedleaf was missing! But... there was a third cat in the den... Who was it?

He opened his jaws and scented... Darkstripe!

Ravenpaw bristled. What was Darkstripe doing in the medicine cat den? His mind continued to whirl. He was supposed to be guarding Yellowfang, but he'd never tried to enter the medicine cat den before.

After Brokenstar had announced his intent to invade the other territories for hunting rights the previous night, ThunderClan had been on edge. Everyone had been sullen and silent, pelts crackling with tension, nervously eyeing the bramble thorn barrier, as if waiting for a patrol of battle-hungry ShadowClan cats to burst through and start slicing them up. It didn't help that Brokenstar had openly reported a scroungy "kit-killer" rogue was wandering around after being driven out of ShadowClan. Tigerclaw had arrived back after the Gathering with the murderous intent to drive Yellowfang out that night, or even worse, kill her, but Bluestar had firmly declared that no harm would come to her while she was in their camp. Tigerclaw had the sense to obey his leader, but he wasn't the only one who was beginning to see Yellowfang as more than just a nuisance.

He forced his pelt to lie flat as he took a cautious step outside of his den. Were the ThunderClan cats getting suspicious of Yellowfang? But she hasn't done anything! Ravenpaw thought in protest. He shook his head. No, he shouldn't be defensive of the rogue cat. She was an outsider, after all.

He couldn't help but feel a chill in his spine. What was happening to the forest? A former medicine cat from ShadowClan, exiled from her own Clan, and the entirety of WindClan driven out of their own territory? Brokenstar's announcement at the Gathering that ShadowClan had single-handedly run the WindClan cats off their territory made every Clan cat's pelt bristle.

He scanned the clearing. Empty. But Darkstripe's scent lingered. He had definitely been in the medicine cat den. What was he doing?

Ravenpaw heard Yellowfang snore. He turned his head to look at her. She was sleeping, splayed out, in the shadows of the medicine cat den. How could she so be relaxed around a bunch of cats who were intent on killing her?! Ravenpaw could never understand the grizzled she-cat's attitude towards life. She must know that hostilities between the Clans were rising. She was a medicine cat! StarClan must be sending her many prophecies about what was happening. Yet she kept quiet.

Ravenpaw settled back in his nest, but he couldn't shake the feeling from his pelt that he was being watched.

An owl hooted in the distance. Then silence.

Ravenpaw let his thoughts wander. Where was Spottedleaf? She probably just went out to make dirt. He couldn't help but feel worried for the tiny tortoiseshell she-cat's safety. Ravenpaw was a pretty scrawny cat himself, but he at least had some warrior training. With Brokenstar's threats looming in the back of every cat's mind, he couldn't believe that she would go out alone. Bluestar was adamant about cats going out in pairs now. Ravenpaw told himself to remind Spottedleaf to wake him up next time she needed to leave the den at night.

He stared at the apprentices' den across the clearing. He could see Sandpaw's pale ginger coat in the gloom. He wondered how she was doing these days. It seemed as though she'd gotten used to him being a medicine cat apprentice, even though the days of hunting together in the forest were long gone. Ravenpaw had resigned to the fact that things may never be completely normal with any of the apprentices. They were polite to him, but he never felt like they were friendly anymore. As if there was a huge divide between them now that Ravenpaw was a medicine cat apprentice. He hated their stiffness, their shifting eyes, their muffled greetings when he came and passed.

I'm still the same cat! he wanted to wail. He cast his eyes downward. Maybe he shouldn't be the same cat. All the medicine cats from the other Clans were just like Spottedleaf—they all held themselves with such an air of wisdom and importance. Ravenpaw knew he couldn't be slinking around in their shadows for the rest of his life. Someday, he'd become medicine cat after Spottedleaf. His whiskers trembled.

Yellowfang's snores were now deafening. Ravenpaw groaned and curled up by the entrance, trying to shield his ears with his paws. He squeezed his eyes shut. How did he get himself into such a predicament? Absolutely nothing was falling in to place like it should've. In fact, he was pretty sure he was even more miserable than before. Before, he at least could curl up with Graypaw, Dustpaw, and Sandpaw in the apprentices' den after a long day, no matter how awful Tigerclaw had made his training, and know that he would be running through the thick undergrowth of the forest the next morning. His nest was perpetually cold in Spottedleaf's den, no matter how many feathers he lined it with, and he hated the feeling of being alone, and he especially hated the way the den smelled. With the addition of Yellowfang, he could barely sleep a wink on any given night.

Ravenpaw sighed. The moon peered out from behind a thick expanse of dark gray clouds, and immediately lit the entire camp in a wash of blinding silver.

Now this is annoying, Ravenpaw thought. He resigned to the fact that it was probably going to be another sleepless night.

In the newly given moonlight, a movement from across the clearing caught his eye. He watched as a shape emerged from the camp entrance. It was Spottedleaf, with her distinctive dappled coat, floating towards the den. She was always silent, always so careful. Ravenpaw pretended to be asleep when she entered the den. He felt her settle next to him in his nest, her petite body curling into his, suddenly filling the space with warmth and... and...

Ravenpaw gagged, swallowing hard to stop himself from getting sick.

...and Tigerclaw's scent.

He hoped she couldn't tell that his fur was bristling like a hedgehog's. Maybe he was just making sure she was safe, he tried to convince himself, but to no avail. He knew that there couldn't be a good reason that Tigerclaw was awake and wandering the forest in the middle of the night.

"Where did you go?" Ravenpaw whispered. He felt Spottedleaf freeze against him. There was a tense silence.

"Oh, did I wake you? I'm sorry," Spottedleaf murmured quietly, her voice sweet and lilting. "I was just going out to make dirt."

"Darkstripe was here," Ravenpaw mewed.

Spottedleaf blinked. He could see her eyelids flutter in the dark.

"Can't you scent him?" Ravenpaw pressed.

Spottedleaf nodded slightly. "Yes, and what did he want?" Her voice had lost its sweetness.

"I don't know," Ravenpaw said. "I was asleep, but I woke up when I heard him come in. He just left right afterwards."

"Odd," Spottedleaf commented. "Maybe a case of the night-walks."

"I," Ravenpaw began, "I-I think he might've been looking for Yellowfang." He swallowed hard. "I know that he's supposed to be guarding her, but he's never come into the den before. Spottedleaf... I don't think a lot of ThunderClan cats want her around after what Brokenstar said at the Gathering."

Spottedleaf lashed her tail. She raised her head and looked out of the den, across the clearing and at the warriors' den. She seemed lost in thought for a heartbeat.

"You don't think he was trying to kill her, were you?" Ravenpaw mewed quietly.

Spottedleaf's whiskers twitched. "I'm not sure, Ravenpaw," she replied sincerely. "It could be very possible. But I will speak to Bluestar about keeping the prisoner's guards out of my den first thing tomorrow. Either way, he should not be in here."

Then she settled back in her nest and went to sleep. Ravenpaw went to do the same. He paused. He noticed that Yellowfang's snores had stopped all of a sudden. A cold shiver went down his spine. Did they wake her up? Was she awake the whole time? Had she heard what they were saying?

He glanced over at her. He must've imagined it, but he thought he saw a pair of amber eyes glowering at him for a heartbeat before her snores filled the den once again.

The next morning, Spottedleaf made her way to Bluestar's den. Ravenpaw trailed behind, ears pricked curiously. He could only hear muffled bits of their conversation floating through the crack in the rocks. Darkstripe... medicine cat den... new guard... Tigerclaw...

Tigerclaw? Ravenpaw unsheathed his claws. He watched as Spottedleaf and Bluestar appeared from the den, now chatting pleasantly about the weather and how prey was running. He caught Spottedleaf's gaze, and he supposed he looked desperate enough for Spottedleaf to excuse herself and leave the conversation.

"Ravenpaw," Spottedleaf mewed as she padded up to him.

"What did Bluestar say?" Ravenpaw asked.

Spottedleaf flicked her ears. "Bluestar concluded that Darkstripe deserved a break and she switched out Yellowfang's guard. Tigerclaw will be taking over Darkstripe's post," she told him.

Ravenpaw could feel his legs shaking. "Shouldn't Tigerclaw be doing more important things?" he asked, trying not to sound weak and whimpering.

Spottedleaf purred in amusement, although Ravenpaw saw nothing funny about the situation. "Tigerclaw wouldn't lay a claw on Yellowfang," she said gently. "He respects Bluestar and the warrior code, even if he may personally disagree with the decision."

Ravenpaw stared hard at Spottedleaf. She was looking affectionately at Tigerclaw, who was sharing tongues with Longtail and Goldenflower across the clearing. He swallowed. A few moons ago, he would've wholeheartedly agreed with her statement. But now, he wasn't so sure. The only thing that Ravenpaw knew for sure was that Tigerclaw had sunk his deadly claws in Redtail's throat all those moons ago. Tigerclaw had killed Redtail in hopes of Bluestar naming him the next deputy. But she hadn't. She'd picked Lionheart.

Ravenpaw's gaze traveled to the golden tom sitting by Highrock. Lionheart was giving himself a quick wash, seemingly ignorant of the power struggle going on around him. Ravenpaw wondered how much he knew. He was the deputy—he had to know something...right?

"Brindleface is expecting kits," Spottedleaf announced, interrupting his thoughts.

Ravenpaw blinked. "Who's the father?" he asked.

Spottedleaf flicked her ear. "She hasn't told me," she replied.

Ravenpaw didn't know why, but that phrase made him dig his claws into the soft earth of the camp ground. So many secrets. So many hidden truths. Why couldn't Brindleface just tell Spottedleaf who had fathered her kits? It wasn't as if she'd taken a ShadowClan warrior as a mate! Wait... well... maybe that was the reason why?

Ravenpaw shook his head. He was in over his head. He was starting to get paranoid about everything. Brindleface would tell everyone in her own time. There was no use in suspecting her, just like there was no use in suspecting Darkstripe, or Yellowfang, or Spottedleaf, or Lionheart, or Bluestar...

Stop it! Ravenpaw scolded himself. He took a deep breath.

From the corner of his eye, he saw something move. He looked over to see Tigerclaw pausing to stare at him for a heartbeat. The tabby tom's muzzle was turned upward in a sneer. He was making that expression right at him. Ravenpaw felt sick. Could he sense his unease? The thought alone made him feel even sicker.

"Let's go see her," Spottedleaf said. "It'll be good for you to learn how to do a checkup of an expecting queen. There are many things you need to know about taking care of kits."

Ravenpaw swished his tail. He'd almost forgotten that he was still a medicine cat apprentice. He followed Spottedleaf warily to the nursery.

He heard a familiar voice as he approached—Sandpaw. She was speaking loudly from the nursery. Ravenpaw felt his breath catch in his throat as his ears picked up on the argumentative tones in her voice. Who was she fighting with?

"Be glad I'm your only kit, because if you had three more like Frostfur did, you'd be hearing an earful from all four of us! Oh wait," Sandpaw snarled, "looks like I'm not your only kit anymore."

"Sandpaw, please." It was Brindleface's voice responding to her accusations. The queen sounded helpless. "We can't mourn Redtail forever. Life goes on in ThunderClan."

Sandpaw let out a snort that Ravenpaw was all too familiar with. "Is your idea of 'life going on' betraying your mate's memory by taking another one like some kittypet that's been locked up in a Twoleg box for too long—"

Spottedleaf rustled the brambles, signaling their approach.

Sandpaw stopped abruptly, then leaned down suddenly to hiss at Brindleface, who was resting in the shadows of the den. "Who is he?"

"You're growing too big for your own pelt," Brindleface finally snapped back. Ravenpaw could begin to see where Sandpaw's fiery nature came from. "You could be cleaning out the elder's den for a moon if I report this insolence to Bluestar."

Sandpaw growled loudly. "Try me," she demanded as she whisked around to blow past Spottedleaf and Ravenpaw, tearing out part of the den on her way out. "This wouldn't be the first time I've been squashed under the foot like a bug. These kits are cursed!"

"Sandpaw—" Ravenpaw began as the ginger she-cat swept by.

"I don't want to talk to you!" Sandpaw snarled, and disappeared into the apprentices' den. Ravenpaw saw Dustpaw sitting by the entrance, fur ruffled in surprise, as Sandpaw stormed by. He watched his brother dash after her, picking up faint bits of his comforting meow as he, no doubt, attempted to calm the angry apprentice.

Brindleface buried her head in her paws for a heartbeat, then greeted the medicine cats with a warm hello.

"I apologize for my daughter's behavior," the gray tabby she-cat murmured, her eyes glazed with sudden exhaustion. "She's almost old enough to be a warrior—yet she still acts like a whiny little kit. I hope she grows out of it soon." She chuckled. "Even I'm at the end of my wits with her."

"Apprentices will be apprentices," Spottedleaf agreed as she moved forward to press her paws on Brindleface's belly. Ravenpaw squinted. It didn't even look like she had kits in there yet.

Spottedleaf must've caught on to what Ravenpaw was thinking. She beckoned him to join her with her tail. "Come put your paws on her belly, Ravenpaw," Spottedleaf ordered.

Ravenpaw hesitated. Put his paws on an expectant queen's belly? Somehow that felt wrong. He shook the anxiety out of his pelt and padded forward, doing what he was told.

"Do you feel how it's firming up?" Spottedleaf asked. "It's not squishy like our bellies anymore. Soon we'll be able to feel the kits in there, and we'll be able to know how many Brindleface is having." The tortoiseshell she-cat nodded at the queen. "You're doing fine. Take it easy, eat plenty of prey, and I'll be back in a quarter-moon to see how you're doing."

"Of course, thank you as always, Spottedleaf," Brindleface replied. "You're such a gifted medicine cat, the Clan is lucky to have you serving us."

Spottedleaf dipped her head in gratitude. "I must return to tending my herb store," she mewed, "Ravenpaw will be made a medicine cat apprentice at Mothermouth tomorrow night, and we still need to organize traveling herbs," and left Ravenpaw in the nursery alone with Brindleface.

Ravenpaw felt awkward. He figured he should leave the queen in peace. But before he could turn around and exit the den, he heard Brindleface sigh deeply. "How's your training going, Ravenpaw?" came a kind mew from her. Ravenpaw flicked his ears, surprised that she was speaking to him directly. He turned to blink at her.

"Well," he said cautiously. Was he doing well? He thought he was doing alright at least.

Brindleface closed her eyes momentarily, nodding at him. "Has StarClan visited you?" she asked after opening them once again.

Ravenpaw swallowed. "No," he confessed. "Sh-should they have...?"

Brindleface let out a soft purr, shaking her head. "No Ravenpaw," she replied, "I suppose it's wrong of me to ask such a personal question. Medicine cat affairs and all." She sighed again. Ravenpaw's whiskers twitched. She sounded so... down. "I only ask because I want to know if Redtail made it to StarClan or not."

Ravenpaw's ears pricked. "Of course he would have," he responded confidently. "StarClan would've welcomed him with open paws. He was a brave and noble deputy."

Brindleface's green eyes flooded with grief. "I hope he doesn't resent me for taking another mate," she mewed softly. "If he's up there, watching... oh, what would he think?" She dug her claws into the soft earth of the nursery floor. "He was always such a cat of the code. If I'd died before his time was up, he would've never taken another mate. Never, til the day StarClan came to retrieve him." Her tailtip twitched. "I know he's hunting in Silverpelt now, but I can't help but feel so... guilty." Brindleface finished with a small shake of her head. "Like I'm not living up to his memory. Like I'm doing him a disservice."

Another brief silence passed them.

"I guess you want to know who the father is, huh," Brindleface murmured.

Ravenpaw shook his head frantically. "Oh no, Brindleface," he squeaked. "That's your business! I don't mean to intrude or sound like I'm being nosy, not at all..."

Brindleface's green eyes shone with amusement and appreciation. "Of course I don't think you're being nosy," she purred. "But I know you're curious, like every young cat ought to be."

Ravenpaw let out of a nervous huff. "You don't have to tell me," he insisted, but Brindleface wasn't listening. The queen went on, "It's Whitestorm," she confessed, looking more ashamed than anything. "Oh, Ravenpaw, I was grieving." She sounded distressed. "And Whitestorm was a perfect Clanmate in every way, he always made sure I had prey to eat and comfortable bedding in my nest after we buried Redtail. I knew he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart, and I'm forever grateful. But I was weak." Ravenpaw stood in the corner, frozen and unable to move. What was he supposed to do? She was telling him too much! "I wasn't thinking clearly with the loss of my dear Redtail. We made a mistake. I know he thinks it was a mistake, too. We don't love each other, and so soon after Redtail's departure... I know no cat feels guiltier than he does. Whitestorm had always respected Redtail so much." Ravenpaw felt his body tensing. "These kits are cursed by Redtail himself." Brindleface was clearly distraught. Ravenpaw's chest tightened.

"Oh... don't listen to Sandpaw," Ravenpaw said, but he couldn't help but feel a cold chill creeping into his pelt as Brindleface's words dug deep into his skin. "It's... It's hard. To honor a dead cat." He swallowed. He didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. "I mean, to honor what you think a... a... Redtail would've wanted. I-I mean... Whitestorm, he's a great warrior, but even he couldn't know everything. A-As you said, life goes on, and unexpected things happen. You want to do one thing but it just... it just doesn't end up happening sometimes. You know?"

"I know," Brindleface responded, pawing at a nearby mossball despondently. "But you're right. I should just focus on having the healthiest and happiest kits for ThunderClan." She purred affectionately at Ravenpaw. "Spottedleaf is really rubbing off on you. I'm glad you're so empathetic. Thank you for understanding."

You have no idea, Ravenpaw thought in despair.