Chapter 8

Tinyclaw crouched in the warmth of the nursery, looking down on small kits suckling from their mother's belly. He sighed warmly, looking down at the little lives that would keep ThunderClan going, generation after generation…

Wait, he realized. ThunderClan doesn't have kits that look like these…

He lifted his head in shock. The two kits huddled next to their mother's belly were unfamiliar – and when he looked up, he found that not only was the mother's pelt unfamiliar, the queen had no face. Her pelt was rippling gold, and though he could not see her eyes he felt as if she were looking right at him.

Then, the queen looked up. Tinyclaw followed her gaze to see a massive cat standing near him, looking down at the queen. He was faceless, too, and his pelt was unidentifiable, but dark.

Suddenly the huge cat rippled, disappearing into the dream. Tinyclaw called out to them, but nothing happened – and when he turned to the golden queen he found that she was not the cat she had been a moment before.

Her pelt was suddenly a rippling, lovely silver – and the kits' pelts had changed, too. Behind her, curled around her, was a dark gray blur – also faceless, but more recognizable, though Tinyclaw still couldn't place their name.

The two had no faces, but when they turned to look at one another, the love was undeniable. Before Tinyclaw could say or do anything, they faded away, leaving the nursery empty.

"This time," murmured a voice, "things will be different."

Tinyclaw turned around. Standing in the nursery entrance was Redtail, the former ThunderClan deputy, and between his paws were three kits, each one some mottling of gray and white. Light shone all around him, and he looked upon Tinyclaw with a fatherly reverence.

"Different?" Tinyclaw wondered. Seeing Redtail brought forth memories of his first day in ThunderClan, when the tom's body had been brought back by Bluefur, his murderer. "What's going on?"

Redtail raised his fox-red tail and meowed, "Things will be different, because of you."

And then he was gone, the dream was gone, and it was all so sudden that when Tinyclaw blinked he found himself writhing in his nest.

"Great StarClan, do you have to make so much racket?" Dustpelt growled. "Some of us are still trying to sleep."

Tinyclaw stopped himself and sheathed his claws. He looked about, finding that he'd made a decent mess of his nest. The den was mostly empty, thankfully, and when Dustpelt snorted and left Tinyclaw quickly cleaned up what he'd done.

Graystripe's gone, he thought as he worked. Must be seeing Silverstream. He understood what it felt like to be in love – or at least infatuated – but he didn't understand how his friend could continue risking himself for it. It would only lead to trouble, and Tinyclaw was unsure how things would end.

He pushed the thoughts aside as he finished up his nest and settled for a quick wash. His dream nagged at his mind, and he was unsure of it's meaning. Was it a prophecy? A warning of some kind? Redtail hadn't been clear, and the dream had been even less so. He didn't recognize any of the cats that featured, and why they were faceless he couldn't say.

Just what I need, Tinyclaw thought as he finished his wash. Another mystery. Didn't he have enough to deal with? Why was Redtail sending him these dreams when there were more important things to deal with, like Bluefur?

Tinyclaw poked his head out into the world. The air crisped his ears, and he determined that the thaw had not yet come. Breath puffed before his nose as he pulled himself out of the warrior's den to stretch in the clearing. Sandstorm was there, finishing up a meager meal.

"Morning," she meowed.

"Morning," Tinyclaw returned. His stomach growled, and suddenly Tinyclaw realized that he was really, really hungry. "What's for breakfast?"

"Not much," Sandstorm replied. "Better get something before it's gone."

Tinyclaw nodded and headed for the fresh-kill pile, finding that Sandstorm was correct: it was rather low. He picked up a shrew and headed back, settling beside her to eat. "We'll have to hunt today," he commented as he chewed. The shrew was stringy – the Clan needed warmer prey.

"Whitestorm and Mousefur are out already," Sandstorm replied, washing her paws. "Swiftpaw and Thornpaw were so excited for their first outing! Poor Whitestorm looked like he was about to fall asleep on his paws."

Tinyclaw purred. Seemed that even great warriors like Whitestorm liked sleeping in. He swallowed another bit of shrew, then asked, "Want to go out?"

"Sure," Sandstorm replied, flicking her tail. "The Clan could use a nice big rabbit."

Tinyclaw purred, and warmth filled him.

"Did you see Bluefur's kits yet?" Sandstorm wondered. Her eyes sparkled. "They're so cute!"

Tinyclaw stiffened, his purr dying in his throat. "N-No, not yet," Tinyclaw stuttered. Sure, he wanted to see the kits – but the thought of seeing Bluefur made his stomach turn. He liked things how they were, with her stuck in the nursery and out of sight.

Sandstorm frowned. "I know she's harsh, but you should see her," she meowed. "Those kits have turned her into a puddle! I've never seen her look at anything the way she does them."

He was saved from having to make any sort of reply by Brackenpaw. Sandstorm's ears pricked when the young apprentice limped over, and Tinyclaw lifted his head.

"Hey," Brackenpaw meowed. He shifted on his paws. "Mind if I join you today?"

Sandstorm and Tinyclaw shared a glance. When she didn't say anything, Tinyclaw asked, "Does Yellowfang need more herbs?"

Brackenpaw's shoulder fur ruffled. "N-No," he meowed. "I just… want to stretch my legs."

"Alright," Sandstorm meowed. "We're going hunting – is that all right?"

Brackenpaw swallowed and then nodded. Tinyclaw threw him a puzzled look, but Brackenpaw gave nothing away as he stared at his paws.

"Well, we should head out, then," Sandstorm decided. She got to her paws and stretched. "Can't idle here all day."

Tinyclaw nodded. "Right," he meowed. "Come on, Brackenpaw."

They were not three steps away from the nettle patch when Cinderpaw came padding out of the apprentice's den. Her big blue eyes grew even rounder when she spotted Tinyclaw and the others, and she trotted over with a twitch in her tail.

"Where are you going?" she wondered. "Where's Graystripe? He didn't come and get me this morning."

Tinyclaw stifled a sigh. Part of him had been hoping that Graystripe had been training his apprentice, but now it was clear that he was seeing Silverstream. He was happy that his friend had found love, but he was neglecting his duties to his apprentice – something that could have been avoided had he chosen a mate from his own Clan.

There's nothing I can do about it now – besides, it might cheer Brackenpaw up to spend time with Cinderpaw, Tinyclaw thought.

"We're going hunting," Tinyclaw told her. "Want to come?"

"Yes!" Cinderpaw cheered. Thankfully, she ignored the fact that Tinyclaw hadn't mentioned Graystripe's whereabouts. "Let's go!"

"Cinderpaw, wait!" Tinyclaw called – but it was futile. The gray apprentice was already a fox-length ahead, powering for the thorn tunnel.

They caught up with Cinderpaw just outside the tunnel. Thankfully, she had waited for them. She turned in a circle when they arrived, looking up at the warriors with a smile.

Sandstorm rolled her eyes. "You need to slow down," she meowed. "We won't catch a thing with you rampaging through the woods."

"I know," Cinderpaw replied, "that's why I stopped."

You cheek! Tinyclaw thought, smirking at the apprentice.

He led the way to the training hollow. There was usually prey around here year-round, and he could smell some promising leads in the air. The group said nothing as they entered the hollow, but it was clear that Sandstorm was itching to move a little faster. Keeping up with Brackenpaw's pace was going to make the trip interesting.

"Let's look here," Tinyclaw offered. "Sandstorm, will you take Cinderpaw? I want to work with Brackenpaw a little."

Sandstorm said nothing, but her eyes flashed knowingly. She nodded, and gathered Cinderpaw up with her tail. The two she-cats headed off into the undergrowth. When they were gone, Tinyclaw turned to Brackenpaw, who was staring off into the distance.

"What's this about?" Tinyclaw wondered. When he didn't reply, Tinyclaw meowed louder, "Brackenpaw!"

The small cat gave a start. "S-Sorry," he mumbled, not meeting Tinyclaw's eyes. "I told you – I just wanted to get some exercise. Maybe… try out some moves?"

Tinyclaw frowned. He wants to try hunting, he realized. To see if he still can. Tinyclaw reminded himself that it wasn't his place to tell Brackenpaw what he ought to do with his life – if Brackenpaw wanted to try, then it was Tinyclaw's job to help.

"Show me a hunting crouch," Tinyclaw offered.

Brackenpaw's eyes glowed, and he got to his paws. He did his best to get into a hunting crouch, but it was clear he was out of practice. His injured leg stuck out awkwardly, and Tinyclaw didn't miss the pain in his expression as he tried to hold the position.

Tinyclaw paced around him, fiddling with his positioning here and there until Brackenpaw was in the best possible crouch. Then, he meowed, "Now stalk."

Brackenpaw took it slow, determination in his eyes – but it hurt Tinyclaw's heart to watch him. He was leaning so heavily onto one side that Tinyclaw knew his stalking wouldn't work the way it was. But he was trying so hard – so hard – that all Tinyclaw could manage was, "Take it a little slower next time."

But Brackenpaw sat on his haunches and sighed. "I can't do it," he decided.

"What?" Tinyclaw wondered. "Sure you can, you just need to -"

"No," Brackenpaw insisted, "It just… doesn't come to me anymore. It hurts to crouch like that – I know, I've tried before now. I just thought that being out here, in the woods… I thought it might make everything feel better, but it doesn't. I'd have to be really lucky to catch anything."

Tinyclaw opened his jaws, but he closed them. He didn't know what he could say to Brackenpaw to make him feel better – Tinyclaw didn't know what it was like to have a disability like his.

"We can figure something out," Tinyclaw tried. "We could ask Deadfoot -"

"Do you really think the deputy from another Clan is going to waste his time trying to train me?" Brackenpaw asked, turning to face Tinyclaw. His eyes were burning. "Our injuries are similar, but not similar enough – Deadfoot's paw is the only thing that doesn't work for him. My whole leg is just… useless. Cats can survive without legs but not when they're just hanging as deadweight."

Brackenpaw frowned and said, "Deadfoot might have some nice words, but he wouldn't be able to -"

A shriek cut him off.

Brackenpaw's eyes grew wide. "Cinderpaw!"

Suddenly he was on his paws, turned about, and rocketing off into the forest as fast as he could. Tinyclaw was on his paws a second later, and he charged past Brackenpaw on the way to the source of Cinderpaw's screech. On the way a rank scent grew stronger and stronger – badger.

Tinyclaw had never seen a badger for himself – but as he leaped a fallen log he spotted it. It was a hulking creature, just a bit bigger than a cat with short black fur and a large white stripe from nose to tail. It was slamming its flat, clawed paws against the husk of a fallen oak, and inside was a familiar patch of white fur.

Cloudkit! Tinyclaw realized.

Cinderpaw and Sandstorm were already on the offensive, so Tinyclaw leaped onto the creature's back. He dug his claws in, feeling ferociously protective of Cloudkit. Sandstorm and Cinderpaw were nipping at the creature's heels, and slowly they managed to turn it away.

With a roar it shook off Tinyclaw and its other attackers. It turned to face them, growling – but its night-eyes couldn't see well in the day.

"What's Cloudkit doing here?" Tinyclaw hissed as the cats regrouped.

"She was with Brindleface and her kits," Sandstorm meowed back. "They were walking – just stretching their legs. Brindleface and the others got away but Cloudkit got stuck in the log!"

The badger waited no longer – it rushed at them, growling and sputtering. The cats scattered, and then attacked. The badger's blows were hard, harder than any cats', and Tinyclaw felt them as it battered him away roughly.

"Get away from us!" Cinderpaw hissed.

She leaped onto the badger, digging into its back. It roared in fury again, trying to shake her off. Tinyclaw and Sandstorm rushed in, striking at its belly and legs as Cinderpaw did her best to hold on.

"I've got Cloudkit!" called Brackenpaw.

Tinyclaw looked away just a moment to see Brackenpaw standing before Cloudkit. The little she-kit was cowering, terrified, just behind Brackenpaw.

"Get her home!" Tinyclaw cried, turning back to the badger.

The badger let out another roar. It shook them all off and began lumbering towards Brackenpaw, obviously more interested in weaker opponents. Tinyclaw hit the ground hard and though he did his best to move he was stunned.

"Brackenpaw!" Cinderpaw cried.

She was on her paws in an instant, nothing but a gray blur as she rocketed across the small battlefield. Tinyclaw only saw the spray of blood before the badger reared up and slammed its paws down, hard, onto the ground. Cinderpaw let out a shriek, and the badger rushed away, bleeding from the eyes and face.

"Cinderpaw!" Tinyclaw called, horrified.

The little cat was lying on the ground, motionless. Blood caked her side. Horror crawled up Tinyclaw's spine – had the badger killed her?

"She's alive!" called Brackenpaw, relief choking his voice.

"Thank StarClan," breathed Sandstorm, echoing Tinyclaw's thoughts.

The two warriors got to their paws and headed for Cinderpaw. A long gash was in her side, but it was clear she was still breathing. Cloudkit was trembling beside Brackenpaw, eyes wide at the blood.

"She'll be fine," Brackenpaw reported. "I need cobwebs."

Cloudkit blinked and meowed, "There were lots in the tree!" She turned and shot back into her hiding spot. A moment later she came out almost covered in cobwebs. Brackenpaw's whiskers twitched, but he teased them off of her and pressed them onto Cinderpaw's wounds.

"I could have moved," he meowed to her. His voice was hiccuping with worry. "You… you didn't need to step in."

"You didn't need to come after me, either," Cinderpaw rasped. "It's what littermates do; we look out for each other."

Tinyclaw swallowed a lump of emotion. Brackenpaw's injury had been caused by Cinderpaw's impulsiveness – without Brackenpaw, she would have been flattened by a Twoleg monster. Tinyclaw supposed that this was her way of returning the favor.

At least she's not too badly injured, he thought.

"I think the badger's gone for now," Sandstorm commented, "but with how hungry it looked, who knows when it might come back? Is she safe to move?"

Brackenpaw nodded. "If we're careful," he added.

Tinyclaw nudged Cloudkit. She clung close to him, her tail low. Tinyclaw and Sandstorm helped Cinderpaw to her paws, and together they headed back to camp.

They hadn't even reached the ravine when Brindleface's anxious cries reached them. Cloudkit's ears pricked, but she didn't leave Tinyclaw's side as they carefully, carefully, picked their way down. When Brindleface spotted Cloudkit her face lit up with relief, and she was instantly at Tinyclaw's side.

"There you are!" she breathed. "Oh, my poor dear…" She bent her head and covered Cloudkit with anxious licks.

"What's all this about? I smell blood!" Oakheart's head popped out of the thorn tunnel. His eyes widened as he observed the scene, and he pulled himself out into the forest.

"A badger attacked us while my kits and I were stretching our legs," Brindleface explained. "Just like I said."

Oakheart's tail flicked. "I didn't doubt you, but…" His eyes flickered across the group. His eyes rested on Cinderpaw's cobweb-plastered flank. "Get her inside. Brindleface, Cloudkit, inside too. I'm putting together a patrol to look for the badger."

"I'll go," Sandstorm offered. "I'll show you were it was."

Oakheart nodded. He told her, "Get Dustpelt, Runningwind, and Willowpelt. We'll find this beast and make sure it doesn't come back."

"Be careful," Tinyclaw urged.

"Don't worry," Sandstorm meowed, "that thing's not laying a claw on me!"

She disappeared into the thorn tunnel. Brindleface and Cloudkit went next, and Tinyclaw and Brackenpaw guided Cinderpaw into the camp last. They passed Sandstorm and the rest of the badger patrol as they crossed the clearing.

Tinyclaw spotted Yellowfang by the elder's den, with Brokentail. She was sitting with him, grooming his pelt gently. Longtail was a fox-length away, looking impatient and irritated – clearly he wasn't happy with the prisoner being treated in such a way.

As he watched Tinyclaw recalled something no one else but he and Yellowfang knew – Brokentail was Yellowfang's son, the only survivor of a forbidden litter. Though he had done such terrible things, Yellowfang insisted on dealing with him herself to atone for the mistakes she'd made. There was no mistaking that she still fiercely loved her kit, even though he despised his captors.

"Take her to the den," Tinyclaw told Brackenpaw. "I'll get Yellowfang."

Brackenpaw nodded and led Cinderpaw towards the fern tunnel. Tinyclaw turned his paws to Yellowfang and Brokentail.

"… prey will be fat again, once it thaws," she rasped quietly. Tinyclaw's ears pricked. "You'll feel better then, I'm sure."

The tenderness was definitely one-sided – Brokentail didn't seem to be hearing Yellowfang at all, nor did he care that she was grooming his pelt. His head was on his paws, and his expression was unreadable.

Yellowfang pricked her ears when Tinyclaw approached. Her eyes flickered across his pelt and she asked, "Why does it look like you've gotten into a fight with a thornbush?"

"We fought a badger," Tinyclaw told her. He explained what had happened briefly, then added, "Brackenpaw took Cinderpaw into your den."

"How is she?" Yellowfang asked.

"Brackenpaw says she'll live," Tinyclaw told her. "He responded well to the injury – got cobwebs immediately."

Yellowfang nodded. "Good boy, him," she grunted. She got to her paws and meowed, "I'll look in on it. Come with me; we'll get something for those scratches."

Tinyclaw nodded and followed Yellowfang towards the fern tunnel. He glanced back at Brokentail and felt a wave of confusion. Brokentail didn't seem to care that Yellowfang was paying attention to him, and even though he had nearly destroyed his Clan Yellowfang still seemed to think of him as her kit somewhere. Clearly that was a hard bond to break.

So then what did his dream, and Redtail's message, really mean… and what did queens and kits have to do with it?