AN: Hey guys, so I wanted to get in an update before November just so you know this isn't abandoned and what's going on. When I published the first chapter of this, I anticipated it taking 3 months from start to completion... yeah, that didn't happen.

Two things are going to keep updates slow for the next month or two. A significant portion of this story is already written, but now it's approaching the timeline to the first arc, and it's taking a lot of cross referencing to make sure everything ends up consistent with canon. Also, I'm doing Nanowrimo this November. If you haven't heard of it, it's basically a challenge to write a 50k word novel in the space of a month. You should check it out, it's pretty cool.

Unfortunately this means that this fic won't be updated again until December. Once this all passes, I'll be able to focus on finishing this out, and updates will be much faster.


"Quick! They're attacking the camp!" Bluefur flung herself down the ravine, her paws skimming the slope. Twisting her ears back, she could tell that the rest of the patrol was right on her heels.

Bluefur darted through the gorse tunnel, and let out a battle cry. Thrushpelt, Whitestorm, Dappletail, and Mosstail added their yowls to her cry; even Smallear let out growl as he stumbled along behind the group.

Enemy cats were everywhere. ShadowClan must have brought all their warriors because ThunderClan was outnumbered even in their own camp.

Bluefur sidestepped a large white tom and aimed a kick at his black paws, knocking him off balance. Thrushpelt sprang forward, slamming into another ShadowClan cat that had leaped to the white tom's defense.

Twitching his split ear, Thrushpelt paused and then dashed into the crowd of warriors. Bluefur noticed with a jolt of anxiety that Thrushpelt's attacks seemed to be wavering; the fight in RiverClan and the frantic escape had taken its toll. But as soon as she bounded over to join him he rushed the ShadowClan warriors with new energy.

Bluefur lifted a forepaw and flung a small ShadowClan cat away just as a piercing howl met her ears. At the panicked call that Bluefur recognized as stemming from Robinwing, Thrushpelt gave her an alarmed look. "The nursery!"

Bluefur spun around. "We need to get to them."

Nodding, Thrushpelt began to weave around the other fighting cats.

As Bluefur began the long trek to the nursery, slowed by the ShadowClan warriors that pounced from out of nowhere every step she took, she saw that Stoneclaw and Mistyfur were fighting side by side, and was grateful that her kits were looking out for each other. But where was Mosstail?

Then she saw her. Mosstail's pale gray fur was ruffled; she was cornered by three ShadowClan cats, and no one seemed to notice. Hurrying to get to Mosstail, Bluefur was stopped by a large, gray tabby tom.

Bluefur looked around frantically. Thrushpelt was out of sight; she had lost him in the crowd. Still surrounded, Mosstail struck at the warriors with her forepaws, and Bluefur felt a rush of horror.

Thank StarClan! Thrushpelt had appeared, and with a swift pounce wrenched the warrior off Mosstail's back. Bluefur continued to bite and slash at the ShadowClan cats, unsure how she'd manage to get past them. The fighting was thickest in the center of the camp, and that was where she would need to go to get to the nursery. Goldenflower and Willowpelt were fending off a pale gray she-cat, and Bluefur focused her eyes on them; the two were doing fine on their own. Tail lashing, Bluefur turned and threw herself at a cluster of ShadowClan warriors near the Highrock. The nursery would be fine for now.

A yowl hit Bluefur's ears as she went. She glimpsed the source of the sound through the fighting cats. It was Stormtail, and he was splayed out on his side by the elders' den, a deep gash in his neck. Bluefur glanced wildly over the sea of fighting cats, trying to make out a path she could take to get through. Layer after layer of screeching cats stood between them; it would take ages to fight her way past them. Could she dodge around them?

Mousefur reared up on her hindlegs, blocking Stormtail from view. Bluefur batted a ShadowClan apprentice away with a forepaw, knowing she'd meet more resistance the further she progressed into the group.

Adderfang was fighting where Stormtail had been before, his lips drawn back in a fierce snarl. Bluefur heard a screech from the other side of the camp, and recognized it as Robinwing's. ShadowClan must have made it to the nursery after all. Swinging her head back toward the elders' den, she narrowed her eyes, and was barely able to see a splash of blue-gray fur past the yowling cats. Stormtail wasn't moving.

She couldn't help him. With a pang of grief, Bluefur ripped her gaze away from her father and turned back to the battle.


The crowd was thinning now, as more and more ShadowClan cats were driven away. Finally, after an impossibly long time, they were gone.

Bluefur sat down, exhausted. After fighting both RiverClan and ShadowClan in the same day, she felt as though her muscles were going to give out. Blood spattered the ground, and several cats staggered about, apparently unaware of their surroundings. Spottedleaf approached them one by one, instructing them to stay still as she applied cobwebs to their wounds.

"No! Thrushpelt!" Bluefur spun around at the familiar cry, so loud against the dull murmuring that was rippling through the camp. It was Mosstail's voice. Racing to her kit's side, she looked down. Thrushpelt lay there, unmoving. It took a few moments to notice the rise and fall of his chest. Mistyfur and Stoneclaw appeared behind her.

"No," Bluefur whispered. A deep slash mark in his neck was welling blood. The wound was deep. Bluefur looked around for a medicine cat, but she knew it would be no use; Spottedleaf and Featherwhisker had passed him by, clearly aware that this wasn't something that could be fixed.

A whimper came from Mosstail's throat. "He saved my life. That warrior would have killed me. Oh StarClan, he can't die because of me." Mistyfur rested her head on Mosstail's in a gesture of comfort.

Turning back to Thrushpelt, Bluefur's heart twisted inside her chest. She should have stayed at his side, instead of running off to face the ShadowClan warriors on her own.

Thrushpelt feebly flicked his tail, and Bluefur realized he wanted her to come closer. Her paws felt heavy, as though they were made of stone. Mosstail, Mistyfur, and Stoneclaw huddled together a few tail-lengths back, pressing their fur against each others.

Shivering, Bluefur settled herself next to the sandy brown tom. The camp was quiet aside from the rustling of tree branches. She began to speak, unsure if he could still hear her. "Thrushpelt… I can't thank you enough. If it weren't for you, I would have died in the RiverClan camp. And you saved Mosstail."

Thrushpelt's green eyes were round and wide, his gaze clinging to Bluefur as though his life depended on it. "Of course I did," he coughed. "They are my kits." Bluefur's throat tightened. It wasn't just because of his love for her that he had cared for the kits; he truly thought of them as his own.

"Thrushpelt, I'm so sorry," Bluefur whispered. Thrushpelt was resting his head on the ground now. "I wish things could have worked out between us, I really do. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the life you wanted..."

Breathing slowly, Thrushpelt looked up at her, his eyes filled with affection that Bluefur knew she didn't deserve. "It's okay," he murmured. "Really it is. It's okay."

He tried to lean forward to rasp his tongue against Bluefur's muzzle, but didn't have the strength. Bluefur gave him a lick between his ears. He took one last shuddering breath. Then he was still.

Bluefur stared down at Thrushpelt in disbelief.

Wails rose up from the surrounding cats as they noticed Thrushpelt's body, jolting Bluefur from her reverie. She bent down, closing his eyes with a gentle lick, and then touched her nose to his ear- the one that had been slashed when he'd saved her life at the RiverClan camp.

She backed away to give her Clanmates room, and the cats began to surge forward to share tongues with Thrushpelt for the last time. Bluefur looked away as her kits crowded around their adoptive father, not able to bear the raw grief in their eyes. She had never thought that Thrushpelt of all cats would die in battle. Perhaps this was a dream. Please StarClan, let me wake up.

But she wasn't dreaming. Thrushpelt's body still rested near the Highrock, speckled with blood. She scanned the clearing, not quite able to believe what she was seeing.

Mousefur was limping heavily, while Runningwind, Longtail, and Whitestorm lingered at the center of the clearing, apparently uncertain of what they should do. Aside from Thrushpelt, Stormtail and Adderfang were dead, and from Adderfang's wounds it was clear he had died fighting shortly after Stormtail. Bluefur knew she should feel something- a young ShadowClan warrior had killed the two elders even though it was against the warrior code- but she wasn't sure if she felt anything at all. Perhaps that would come later.

A small group of cats had formed a loose circle around Stormtail and Adderfang. When they saw Bluefur they parted to let her through. She padded up, and closing her eyes, pressed her head against Stormtail's flank. After a long moment she stood. She had expected grief to jab her belly when she saw her father. But instead she felt numb. It were as though her emotions were locked behind a stone wall, but she could feel them, threatening to seep out. She shut her eyes, and pushed them back. Her Clan needed her right now.

"Are all of you all right?" she asked.

The group of devastated cats murmured weakly. Redtail twitched his tail. "Stonepelt got a pretty nasty cut, but Featherwhisker was seeing to him earlier."

For the first time, Bluefur felt a pulse of anger ruffle her pelt. Although ThunderClan's takeover of ShadowClan territory hadn't been within the warrior code, that was no excuse. How dare they break into a camp and attack elders?

Bluefur glanced around. "Has any cat seen to Smallear? He was already injured in the RiverClan attack."

"Featherwhisker was putting cobwebs on his injuries earlier, but that was during the battle. I haven't seen him since." Redtail paused and scanned the camp. "He must be in the medicine den."

Bluefur nodded and slipped away, trying to stop herself from noticing Thrushpelt's body at the center of the camp. Near the gorse barrier, Darkstripe was curled up, his claws digging into the ground while his eyes flitted about. Even after his disastrous botching of the RiverClan attack, Bluefur didn't have the energy to be angry at the young warrior. She had more important things to worry about.

"Bluefur, how bad are your injuries?" Spottedleaf padded up. She held a bundle of herbs in her jaws.

"I'm fine. Treat the rest first," Bluefur told her. With a flick of her tail, Spottedleaf nodded, and headed back toward the rest of the cats. Adderfang had been Spottedleaf's father. She must be devastated, but she wasn't showing it.

Lying in the center of the clearing was Thistlestar. Featherwhisker sat next to him, herbs scattered uselessly at his paws. Bluefur trotted up.

"Is he dead?" She was surprised her voice was so steady.

"He is losing a life." Featherwhisker bowed his head solemnly. "There is nothing else I can do."

Bluefur sat beside Featherwhisker for a long time, watching Thistlestar, waiting for him to awaken.


Three days later, Thistlestar called a Clan meeting. Although no cat would say anything, it had taken him most of the day after the attack to recover his strength; though his life ending wound had been healed by StarClan, he'd had several others.

Standing on the Highrock, Thistlestar looked as commanding as ever, and he scanned the cats with his dark gaze until they fell silent. "Cats of ThunderClan, ShadowClan has committed a grave injustice. When we protected ourselves from their intrusion, they responded by invading our camp and murdering our elders in cold blood."

Yowls of fury erupted from the crowd. "Traitors! Murderers!"

"What kind of warriors kill elders and queens?"

"ShadowClan thought they could intimidate us," Thistlestar continued. "They have not succeeded." Bluefur's heart dropped as he continued. "I will be leading a patrol to attack their camp, just as they have done to us. Let's see how they like it!"

Furious caterwauling erupted; Mosstail, Mistyfur, and Stoneclaw were some of the loudest voices. Watching as her Clanmates yowled for ShadowClan blood, Bluefur couldn't push away the realization that threatened to overwhelm her. As much as Thrushpelt had once tried to convince her that Thistlestar would be a good leader, and as much as she had tried to convince herself of the same thing, Goosefeather was right- Thistlestar was going to lead ThunderClan to ruin. She had made the wrong choice.