Sorry this took forever. I was on holiday and had writer's block. It's a bad combo if you're trying to write.

Anyway, this chapter adds a bit of plot and is slightly shorter than usual. You may like it, you may hate it. Either way, please review and tell me what you think!

"You forgot to wash his scent off?" Tawnypelt meowed in shock.

"I didn't forget!" Appleheart wailed, quietly. "I just didn't have any time."

The sun had been quite high in the sky by the time Tawnypelt had woken. Appleheart herself had had a sleepless night; she was too busy worrying if Smokefoot had scented Birchclaw on her. When the black tom had padded into the den, a while after Appleheart got back, he had stared at her for a second, sniffing her fur before going to sleep.

"I'm sure he knows," Appleheart pressed her nose into her paws. "How could I have been so stupid? I should have known the moonhigh patrol was out last night. Maybe Blackstar's got them going out every night, and I'll never see Birchclaw again."

"Didn't you listen to Blackstar's announcement?" Tawnypelt asked, trying to comfort her old apprentice. "He only said patrols are every second night. You can still see Birchclaw."

Appleheart looked up, a sudden spark in her emerald eyes. "Really?"

"I'm sure," Tawnypelt meowed.

"Alright." Appleheart sat up and gave her chest a quick lick. Why had she panicked so much? There was nothing to panic about! "Can you feel your kits yet?" Appleheart asked for a change of subject, feeling curious.

Tawnypelt shook her head. "I'm still very early on in my pregnancy," she mewed briefly. "I won't feel anything for about a quarter-moon."

"Appleheart!"

Appleheart nearly jumped out of her skin. "Marshpelt!" she meowed in surprise. "Don't you ever sneak up on me like that again!"

Her brother grinned at her. "Why ever not?"

"I'll leave you two alone," Tawnypelt said, getting up and padding over to the nursery.

"Where've you been, Appleheart?" Marshpelt enquired. "I hardly ever see you nowadays."

"I'm around," Appleheart replied, standing up too. She was more lithe than her brother, who was quite stocky and had thick, long fur. "Busy been a warrior. ShadowClan's star hunter has got to hunt all the time."

"Since when have you been ShadowClan's star hunter?" Marshpelt said playfully, ducking and knocking Appleheart front paws out from underneath her.

Appleheart fell forwards on her face. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, rubbing her nose with a forepaw.

Marshpelt looked surprised. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

Appleheart shoved him to one side. She loved her brother; he always made her feel like a playful kit.

Marshpelt gave his head a shake. "Anyway, do you want to go on a patrol with me and Toadfoot?" he offered. "We haven't been together since we were kits."

Appleheart smiled at him. "I'd like that," she meowed, pushing all thoughts of Smokefoot to one side.

"I thought you would," Marshpelt purred. He turned his head. "Shall we get going, then?"

Appleheart grinned. "Why not?" she walked across the clearing to where her other brother sat, grooming his thick fur. "Hey, Toadfoot."

Toadfoot looked up. "Hello, Appleheart." He got up and stretched out his front legs. "Ready to go?"

"Yep," Marshpelt nodded. "Cleaned yourself fully, brother of mine?"

"If I groomed myself just once, it would beat your record," Toadfoot retorted.

"Ah, Toadfoot! You've hurt me deep inside," Marshpelt declared, placing a paw over his heart. Appleheart giggled, and Toadfoot rolled his eyes.

"Come on, let's go."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Two blue eyes, hidden in the shadows, watched Appleheart, Toadfoot and Marshpelt pad out of the camp. They glinted icily.

"So," Smokefoot murmured to himself. "Appleheart loves a ThunderClan cat." His heart felt like it was breaking. He'd never told any cat, but he'd loved Appleheart dearly, ever since he'd first seen her. He had hoped that she would choose him as her mate, and now he knew she'd chosen an enemy warrior over him. All the love he felt for her was slowly becoming something else - he didn't know what. And as for Birchclaw…

Smokefoot gritted his teeth, unsheathing his claws. If he could get Birchclaw alone, there would be some serious fighting involved.

His mind filled with rage, the black tom got to his feet.

"Oh, Appleheart," he whispered. "One day you'll thank me for what I'm planning to do."