Here you are, another chapter to satisfy your hunger.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own warriors.

Chapter 10

ShadowClan

Skullpaw followed his brother out of the Gathering clearing, feeling successful. He had just met all of the cats that would be suitable for recruits with their master plan.

Now all he had to do was make them trust him enough.

Skullpaw thought over all of the cats he saw and talked to. There was Finchpaw of WindClan; he seemed good at heart, yet that could be easily changed with a little persuasion. There was Creekpaw of RiverClan; he sensed a great tragedy was going to happen to her, but she seemed confident in her duties. There was Tinypaw of RiverClan; Skullpaw slit his eyes as this thought crossed his mind.

Tinypaw… he had recognized her scent from his meeting with Napoleon, and he sensed her anxiety at meeting him for the first time. Skullpaw smirked; fear was good, but he would need to gain her trust as a true friend before he broke her down.

And then there was Moonpaw; Skullpaw recognized her as the young ThunderClan she-cat they had caught by the border on his first day out. Upon seeing her again, Skullpaw had decided that she was strong if not a bit gullible, and would make the perfect recruit.

Among Skullpaw's own Clan, he had decided to befriend Hawkpaw for his determination and speed. As Skullpaw was organizing his plans, he hadn't noticed that he had run into Blackpaw on the way back into camp.

"Whoops." Blackpaw breathed, and Skullpaw blinked as if first realizing she was there. Both apprentices looked down shyly, not knowing what to say to the other.

"Excuse me, brother," Deathpaw nudged Skullpaw out of the way, knocking him into a recent mud puddle. "Blackpaw, would you mind hunting with me later?"

Blackpaw's eyes had widened at the sight of Deathpaw pushing Skullpaw into the puddle, and Skullpaw felt a flash of shame and anger. Why does Deathpaw always steal things away from me? Deathpaw chuckled at her bewildered expression and began to tow her away.

Seeing Skullpaw's distress, Blackpaw stopped and held her ground. "No, Deathpaw. I'm through with you; pushing around your brother isn't going to make me want you instead." Deathpaw widened his eyes in surprise at the she-cat's confidence, and backed away toward the apprentices' den, mumbling.

Blackpaw helped Skullpaw up and out of the mud puddle with a great sucking sound, and Skullpaw shook himself off.

"Thank you," Skullpaw mewed, and Blackpaw purred.

"Your welcome. Deathpaw needed a little sourness to spice up his snobbish life." Skullpaw's spirits lifted at this, and together the two went of hunting with their mentors—without Deathpaw dragging behind.


Skullpaw padded slowly through the pine needles, making his pawsteps muffled on the soft springy ground as he stalked the vole. They were right near the Twolegpath that marked the border between ThunderClan and ShadowClan, and Skullpaw was having a great hunt so far. With leaf-fall on the way, everyone in ShadowClan was preparing for a hard winter.

Skullpaw pounced when the mouse wasn't looking, and with a purr of satisfaction he bit down hard on its neck, making it go limp in his jaws. He had caught a sparrow, a squirrel, and this mouse; this would be enough to take back to the elders and kits.

Skullpaw trotted over to where he had buried his other kill, and with the prey bulging from his jaws he made his way back over to where Blackpaw waited.

A sudden stench of death and crow-food filled his nostrils, making him gag for air among his prey. He set it on the ground and traced the scent over to where a black bundle lay unmoving in a heap beside the Twolegpath.

Skullpaw parted the bushes for a better look, and was horrified to find a dead cat lying in the bushes. He had a night black pelt and shimmering green eyes that were empty and lifeless. His body was caked in dried blood, no doubt his own. It looked as if he had been dragged here, because a trail of blood uphill led to the spot where he now lay.

Skullpaw took a step back, then another, until he was running back toward Blackpaw and the camp, just managing to grab his prey before he streaked into the clearing.

"What is it, Deathpaw?" Deathpaw's mentor, Ravenclaw, asked as Skullpaw panted into the camp. Skullpaw for once didn't mind the tom's constant mix-up between him and his twin brother, just streaked past him toward the leader's den where Duskstar lay sharing tongues with his brother, Crowmoon at the back of the den. He just remembered to drop his prey on the fresh-kill pile before entering.

"Duskstar!" Skullpaw panted, forcing his heartbeat to slow.

Duskstar and Crowmoon turned to look at him. "What's the matter, Skullpaw? You look as if you've seen a ghost." Crowmoon asked, and both cats chuckled. Skullpaw felt a flash of annoyance at his leader, but it evaporated as soon as he remembered his mission.

"Duskstar, there's a dead cat on the border with ThunderClan. It-It looked like Rabbitsteps!" Both cats' eyes widened with horror and surprise at the sound of their old medicine cat's name. Rabbitsteps had gone missing a half moon ago, and the news that he was dead hung in the air like sickness.

After a long pause, Duskstar dipped his head. "Thank you, Skullpaw. I shall send a patrol to investigate. You shall be included." Skullpaw raised his head high, glad to be given such an honor in being part of an important patrol. Skullpaw dipped his head, and followed the two cats outside.

"Cats of ShadowClan," Duskstar yowled at the top of the Dark Rock, and immediately the Clan began to gather; even the nursery queens stuck their heads out to see what was the matter.

"The missing Rabbitsteps was found dead by the ThunderClan border; I will send a patrol to gather his body and investigate further into his death." Duskstar kept his voice level and emotionless so as not to panic his Clan; Skullpaw envied his calmness in a crisis.

"Softfur, Bearstripe, Pondripple, and Skullpaw. You will be the members of the patrol." All cats nodded agreement, and Skullpaw followed his Clanmates out of the camp and into the pines.


"It looks as if his throat was ripped open with claws," Bearstripe observed as they stood over Rabbitsteps's body; Skullpaw shivered as Pondripple gently brushed her tail-tip over Rabbitsteps's eyes, closing them.

Softfur sniffed his pelt, looking for any traces of his killer's scent. "I detect the scent of rogue, and one that I've smelled faintly in the area." Skullpaw's eyes widened. Duskstar and Softfur already knew his killer?

Bearstripe dipped his head. "Go on."

"He used to be a kittypet, until his Twoleg was hit by a monster when returning home. He wandered off to become a rogue on our territories, vowing for revenge." Skullpaw tipped his head, puzzled.

"But how do you know him?" He asked. Softfur dipped her head.

"Duskstar and I met him when on a patrol," she mewed, "He threatened to kill anyone who stood in his way; he also mentioned that he would do whatever it took to reach his goal…"She trailed off. "We don't know his name, or what his goal is. But he's a threat to our Clan, a threat that must be dealt with." She blinked slowly, determination in her golden eyes.

"Come. We must bring him back for vigil." She nudged her head under him, along with Bearstripe, and Pondripple and Skullpaw inspected the scene around where they found the body.

Skullpaw had not been very fond of Rabbitsteps, for he had been quite old when he disappeared; but Skullpaw had never wished him dead before. He just wished that he would stop telling him what to do all the time.

Skullpaw remembered his last words to him…

Skullkit raced away, past the medicine den where Rabbitsteps was organizing his herb stock; Fuzzykit was helping him, stealing tentative glances to where his father was talking with Softfur.

Skullkit pushed his brother into a patch of thorn bushes, squealing with laughter as Deathkit struggled and gasped with pain. Their mother came over and scolded Skullkit for doing such a thing, and ordered him to escort Deathkit to the medicine den.

Rabbitsteps had given him such a sorrowful look that Skullkit felt a flash of regret for pushing his brother, who was whimpering in the corner.

"Violence is not the way for a warrior to act," Rabbitsteps had scolded, and Skullkit shuffled his paws. He looked into the tom's friendly eyes, searching for comfort. "You shall be great one day, young kit," Rabbitsteps murmured, "But you shall make choices that you shall later regret; the Moon and Blue Feathers shall forever hate you for your insolence and scorn." Skullkit had stepped away, pelt bristling, looking up toward the sky as if the moon would crush him in the middle of the day. Rabbitsteps had helped Deathkit pull out all of the thorns, then went out of camp to look for herbs; he had never returned.

Skullpaw shivered as he turned over leaves, looking for clumps of fur or traces of scent. He was sure Rabbitsteps had given a prophecy, but he had no idea what it had meant; surely Skullpaw had made the right choice in trusting Napoleon in his quest for power?

He sniffed around, hooking a clump of white fur in his claws; it was stained with Rabbitsteps's blood. No; Skullpaw was making the right choice.

He wouldn't back down now.

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