Bluefur's kits will be important! Unfortunately that importance might not come in this installment, but I'll try to fit a little bit in!
Chapter 10
Tigerstar was leaving the nursery when Tinyclaw returned to camp, prey in his jaws. He hastily dropped his prey off onto the fresh-kill pile before going to catch up to his leader.
"What is it, Tinyclaw?" Tigerstar asked flatly when Tinyclaw approached.
Tinyclaw took a second to frown, knowing that Tigerstar's listless tone was a sign that Tinyclaw was not forgiven for bringing up the half-Clan kits. Regardless, Tinyclaw lowered his head respectfully and said, "I was hunting near the Twolegplace when -"
"You spend quite a bit of time there," Tigerstar mused, his eyes flashing.
"I thought there might be more prey," Tinyclaw stammered. I didn't bring a kit back this time, at least! "You know, since kittypets don't usually hunt."
"Very well," Tigerstar decided, "go on."
"I caught some strange scents just outside our border," Tinyclaw reported. "Strange cat-scents, heavy with crow-food smells."
Tigerstar's eyes flashed, and his ears pricked. "How many?" he wondered. "What Clan were they from?"
"No Clan," Tinyclaw told him. "But there was more than one. I couldn't really tell – the smells were muddled. It seems like it's a popular meeting spot, however." He left out the fact that Darkstripe had been loitering around that area as well, knowing it would bring up some difficulty.
"How recent?"
"Very," Tinyclaw answered. "I think I might have just missed them. I don't think they were kittypets, Tigerstar – they smelled too badly. It's probably a group of rogues."
Tigerstar was nodding in agreement. "Yes, definitely," he rumbled. "I will have some warriors check it out – they might not pose a threat, but it doesn't hurt to be too careful."
"Thank you," Tinyclaw breathed.
Tigerstar nodded curtly before padding off towards the Highrock. Tinyclaw watched him brush muzzles with Whitestorm before the two settled down to share tongues, probably talking about Bluefur's kits. Tinyclaw shifted on his paws – perhaps Tigerstar was beginning to cool down?
If I'm ever going to get him to listen to me again, I'd better hope so.
Two days later, the snow was melting into puddles. The moist, muddy ground was broken up by bright green buds and budding bushes. Tinyclaw relished the growing warmth in the woods as he padded back through the thorn tunnel, a vole clamped in his jaws.
Hunting had been good – almost overnight it seemed like prey had returned to the forest, and the Clan had gone to sleep full-fed for the first time in moons. Tinyclaw dropped his vole onto the fresh-kill pile, almost fully restocked from the night before, and the sun hadn't even begun to set.
He turned about to see cats clustering near the nursery. The queens were pulling out the old moss, raking it into piles and replacing it with fresher bedding. Tinyclaw trotted over to help, his tail straightening when he saw Cloudkit bundling moss as well.
"Brindleface showed me a good place just outside camp!" she crowed, moss tucked awkwardly beneath her chin. Ashkit and Fernkit were tottering behind her. "I'm going to show them!"
"Be careful," Tinyclaw warned.
Cloudkit nodded and took off, eyes sparkling. Ashkit and Fernkit followed. Tinyclaw watched, proud that his niece had taken to helping the elders with their bedding even without being asked or told. Perhaps she was learning the Clan's values after all.
"How's this feel, Bluefur?" asked Frostfur.
Tinyclaw blinked, suddenly realizing that Bluefur and her kits were outside the nursery for the first time since her kitting. She looked tired, but her fur was still sleek and glowing silver in the sunlight. At her paws tussled her kits, barely old enough to keep their eyes open for long but forced out of the nursery by the cleaning regardless.
Bluefur pressed her nose into it, then replied, "It will do fine."
Frostfur nodded and took the fresh moss inside the nursery. Bluefur looked down at her kits, reaching out with a paw to push them apart. She murmured to them, possibly asking them to behave, before her head shot up and she made eye contact with Tinyclaw.
For a moment, they were silent – Tinyclaw flexed his claws, admittedly nervous. Bluefur twitched her whiskers, her blue eyes unreadable.
"Tinyclaw," she said finally. "Come see my kits."
Tinyclaw's tail puffed, but he flattened it. It was not a request he could refuse, no matter what he felt about Bluefur. He padded closer and sat down, wrapping his tail around his paws. The kits squirmed and looked up at him, uncertain, their eyes still blue with youth.
There were three – Stonekit was the only tom, his fur a lighter shade of gray with very pale tabby stripes. Mistykit was reportedly the eldest, the spitting image of her mother with just bit more fluff around her ruff and tail. Mosskit, the last and smallest, was white with patches of blue-gray tabby. All three boasted their father's strong, stocky body and face, but Mistykit's likeness to Bluefur was still striking.
"They're lovely," Tinyclaw admitted awkwardly.
Bluefur licked a paw and drew it over her ear. "Yes, they are – though Oakheart wishes that one was colored like him," she replied idly. "Not much can be done about that, though."
Just as Tinyclaw was beginning to feel the awkwardness crawling in his pelt like ants, Whitestorm's call brought him out of the conversation:
"Tinyclaw! I have a job for you."
Tinyclaw turned and saw the white warrior was trotting towards him. Whitestorm stopped before Tinyclaw and meowed, "I want you to take a patrol down by the RiverClan border. With the snow gone we need to renew the scent markers – we haven't been able to do it for a few days."
My own patrol? Tinyclaw was stunned.
Whitestorm's whiskers twitched in amusement. "You'll do fine; Bluefur doesn't train fools. Pick a few cats and get going as soon as possible. I expect a full report!"
"Y-Yes, Whitestorm!" Tinyclaw stammered.
Tinyclaw trotted off to the warrior's den, feeling uplifted despite what had just happened: if Whitestorm was telling him to lead a patrol, then that must mean that Tigerstar was beginning to trust Tinyclaw again! He was light on his paws all the way to the warrior's den. When he poked his head under the leaves, he smiled as he saw all his favorite faces.
"Who wants to go on patrol with me?" he asked. "RiverClan border."
Graystripe was to his paws immediately. "I'm in," he mewed.
"I'll go," Runningwind agreed. He glanced at Sandstorm, who looked at Tinyclaw. The pale she-cat nodded, and Tinyclaw's heart felt light.
"Should we borrow an apprentice?" Tinyclaw wondered. Cinderpaw was still recovering from the badger and would have been free for a patrol if he'd asked tomorrow, but right now she was still under Yellowfang's paw.
Runningwind shook his head and explained, "Oakheart and Mousefur took all of them out to go hunt for the elders. Good luck to them!"
Tinyclaw nodded in assent and led the way out of camp. He set a brisk pace, fueled by the warm day and the sound of his friends beside him. He led the way up the ravine and towards Sunningrocks, a place that desperately needed border markings. His patrol followed him through the trees.
Near the edge of the forest Tinyclaw slowed to a walk, keeping his eyes and ears open. He could hear the river flowing free just beyond the treeline. Tinyclaw signaled with his tail for silence as they approached the border.
"I can't smell any RiverClan," Graystripe commented quietly.
"Doesn't mean there aren't any," Runningwind hissed back. "I wouldn't put it past RiverClan to roll in something to hide their stench."
Tinyclaw could practically feel Graystripe's irritation. He waved his tail and meowed, "Let's get going – Sunningrocks isn't far."
The patrol kept quiet as they stalked through the trees. The roar of water was growing closer, closer… too close. Tinyclaw picked up the pace, his heart racing – why was the water so close?
He had to skid to an abrupt halt to prevent himself from falling into the answer. His dream crashed into his mind like a Thunderpath monster, sudden and painful. Here he and the patrol stood, on the crest of the hill that sloped down into what had been Sunningrocks – but all that was there now was a sheet of pure river water rippling in the breeze. The gray stones of Sunningrocks rose up like islands two fox-lengths inside the water.
"Great StarClan," breathed Sandstorm.
"It's…" Tinyclaw swallowed, "It's flooded. The river's flooded over!"
