I will never be able to thank you all enough for the 194 reviews and, among those reviews, countless ideas! I will do my best to make sure all of them are written out eventually.

Today: What if Briarlight never became disabled?

Next: What if Graystripe wasn't captured by Twolegs?

-Mossy (awkward moment when you misspell your name as "Mosy" or "Mosby", like that dude Mr. Mosby from that Disney Channel show... didn't that actor get arrested or something? Anyways, on with the show...)

Briarpaw had never been more sure of what she was supposed to do. With a determined screech, she lunged toward the elders' den under the swaying tree. But something was wrong; she stopped running halfway there. Thinking her fur was caught on something, Briarpaw turned around with a snarl to detach herself from whatever held her back.

What was holding her back? Her mother, Millie. Briarpaw suppressed a groan as the silver tabby fiercely tugged her oldest daughter back toward her. "You could have been killed if you'd gone in there," Millie hissed in Briarpaw's ear as they helplessly watched the tree fall. Under the tree's weight, the roof of the elders' den caved in, trapping Longtail inside.

But, again, something was up: there was no cry for help from the blinded tom inside the den. Briarpaw felt a nasty feeling creep up her spine, and her feeling was confirmed as Mousefur freed herself from Dustpelt's grip and dug desperately through the rubble. The brown she-cat threw back her head in a grief-filled yowl.

o3o

"Longtail, no!" Briarpaw could still hear Mousefur's cries even days after Longtail had been buried. And each day after the tree had fallen and flattened the elders' den like a berry under a paw, Millie continued to remind Briarpaw to thank StarClan for her life.

Eventually, Briarpaw couldn't take it anymore. She turned on her mother and cut into her sentence. "You're a kittypet, what do you care about StarClan? Besides, it was you who kept me from saving Longtail's life, so you should be telling me to thank you! Except that would make you even worse than you already were before he died."

Millie was struck silent for what felt like the first time in moons to Briarpaw. Triumphant, the the dark brown apprentice stomped away from her mother, glad she was finally able to breathe again, and enjoying the coolness on her neck after Millie was breathing down it for so long.

A few moons later, Briarpaw and her littermates Bumblepaw and Blossompaw were close to being named warriors. Briarpaw's mentor, Thornclaw, praised her greatly on her hunting skills (Briarpaw, with her strong hind legs, was fantastic at leaping high onto the trunks of trees from the ground.) One day, Briarpaw was sharing a squirrel she'd caught with her brother and sister when their father, Graystripe, padded over with a grim look on his face.

"Kits," he mewed to them, ducking his head as he sat down and curled his fluffy tail over his paws. "I would like to speak to all three of you about something that has been going on a while now."

Blossompaw swallowed a morsel of squirrel and propped herself up on her dappled forelegs, groaning. "Ugh, is this about Millie?"

Bumblepaw shuffled his paws in the dust and chose taking another bite of the fresh-kill over speaking.

A stab of guilt pricked Briarpaw's heart, but she held her breath until it passed. It's Millie's fault Longtail died. I would have saved him, if she had just let me get to the den in time...

Graystripe narrowed his eyes, but the irritation in the sun-colored optics was quickly replaced by sorrow and confusion that clouded over the usual brightness. "This whole ordeal, this fun little 'game' with ignoring your mother needs to stop, and I mean now."

Briarpaw stuck out her lower lip, still refusing to talk just like Bumblepaw. They both allowed Blossompaw to keep her trap flapping.

"Forgive me- us- Graystripe, but it really is kind of Millie's fault that Longtail died."

It's like she read my mind. Biting her lip, Briarpaw sneaked a glance toward her father to see what his reaction to this would be. He was staring stonily at a point past his children, and Briarpaw turned so she could follow his gaze. He was glancing at Millie, who was washing herself next to the warriors' den. Her silver pelt caught in the sunlight, and Briarpaw saw the hardness instantly melt in Graystripe. What a loon. Millie put him up to this, and she's obviously trying to convince him to keep going. Even the brown she-cat would not have guessed Millie would go this far.

"Who told you that? Briarpaw?" Graystripe demanded, swinging his head back around to face the bristling trio, Blossompaw in particular.

The tortoiseshell nodded, but then shrugged apologetically and immediately added, "But we all saw Millie hold her back. Briarpaw was ready to sacrifice herself for a Clanmate. That's what you agree to do when you become a warrior."

Graystripe flexed his claws and sighed before hissing defensively, "You still have 'paw at the end of your name," he meowed, addressing his offspring by looking each one by one in the eye. When his gaze locked onto her hers, Briarpaw shivered. "You have not agreed to die for the good of your Clan yet." He winced before going on after glancing once more over Bumblepaw's pricked ears to Millie. "Longtail was an elder; he had lived a long life. You still have much of a life to lead, Briarpaw, so imagine if you'd died for a... a cat who..." The gray tom took a deep breath, and then said hastily, "A-cat-who-tried-to-kill-Firestar-when-he-first-came-to-the-Clan."

Briarpaw knew this story all too well, of how Longtail attacked Rusty the kittypet before he became Firepaw. Finally she spoke up, "If it weren't for Longtail's little harmless fight with Firestar, then Firestar would not have proved himself a worthy member of ThunderClan, nor would he have lost his kittypet collar. If it weren't for Longtail challenging Firestar and ripping his collar off, you might not have your best friend here in the Clan today."

o3o

Graystripe had given up trying to convince them to speak to Millie again. Firestar- thank StarClan he was here- named the littermates Briarlight, Bumblestripe, and Blossomfall. Estranged from their parents, the kits still managed to lead prosperous lives. Blossomfall had a son and daughter (Buzzardkit and Shrewkit) with Mousewhisker, and Bumblestripe had two daughters (Beekit and Morningkit) with Dovewing.

Briarlight was admittedly jealous of the families her siblings were establishing. She wondered if she would ever find love. Luckily, she did; and it came in a gray-flecked golden-brown tabby with forest-green eyes.

"Briarlight," he meowed, his breath stirring her ear fur and sending a chill through her body.

"Thornclaw?" Briarlight turned and smiled shakily at her former mentor. "Is something the matter?" She gulped, trying not to look at the muscles bulging beneath his pelt, which seemed to glow with the ferocity of the sun.

"I've noticed something between us, and I think you've noticed it too," Thornclaw said.

Her smiled spread wider, and was now sturdy. "Are you asking what I think you're asking?" she mewed, the end of her question breaking off into a deep, rumbling purr.

Thornclaw jumped happily and pressed his nose to hers for a few heartbeats before running his cheek down the length of her neck, tickling her, and she giggled. "Briarlight, will you do this old tom the pleasure of being his mate?"

"Yes!"

o3o

Briarlight and Thornclaw were happy together without kits. She saw the tiredness in her siblings' eyes as they raised their offspring, and even though they told Briarlight over and over again that the "suffering" was worth it in the end, the dark brown she-cat still had no interest in bearing kits, and neither did Thornclaw.

About four seasons after they became mates, Thornclaw retired to the elders' den, stuck with a raspy breath and wheezy voice whenever he moved too much. Briarlight remained a warrior, but was highly respected by even the senior warriors for being close to the grouchy tabby. She made sure to set aside time every day to just curl her body around his, and sometimes they wouldn't even speak, just enjoy being in contact with each other.

By the time the fur around her muzzle had faded to gray, she still made sure to curl herself around his grave. It was what made her happiest.

Dawww.