AN:: Just a heads up, I've changed my username.

Wulf-gurl - Evilwrites

Also I'm posting a couple of chapters again, because I'm moving tomorrow. Heading for Colorado, and will probably not write for a while as I'll be trying to settle into my new home/college/work.

Please R&R and enjoy~!

"Jayfeather? Can I talk to you?"

The medicine cat huffed angrily, turning and facing the den entrance. Ivypool stood there, uncertainty coming off of her in waves, tail dragging against the ground.

"What is it?" He asked, a little snappier than he had intended. But this was the fifth interruption just this morning, and he was trying to sort and count herbs to see what he needed to collect for the coming moons.

Ivypool hesitated, anxiety rolling off of her, and she moved closer to Jayfeather. "Can…can we talk somewhere private?" She whispered to him. Moonpaw, sitting nearby and counting poppy seeds, was quietly listening to the two, curiosity piqued, trying to make it seem like she was intent in her work. Jayfeather hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding his head, twitching his ears toward his apprentice.

"Moonpaw, I want you to go and check on Spiderleg. His wheezing has gotten worse. Report to me what you see and tell me what herbs you think should be used to help." Jayfeather mewed tartly.

"Yes Jayfeather." Moonpaw mewed, hopping to her feet and dashing out of the den. Despite the medicine cat's brusque tone, the apprentice went about her duty happily.

With Moonpaw gone Jayfeather sat down, inclining his head toward Ivypool. "There, privacy. Now, what's wrong?"

Again Ivypool hesitated, shuffling her feet before heaving a loud sigh and sitting down as well. "It's…about Hollypaw." She started. "I…I don't really know how to say this, but…I think she's…up to something." Jayfeather twitched his ears, leaning back on his haunches.

"Go on." He urged.

"Well, it's just…she always seems to be tired, and worn out. I've noticed a few times that she's got scratches on her, and she's limping—not her bad leg, though." Ivypool's uncertainty turned to fear, and she swallowed hard before speaking again. Her voice quivered dangerously, and Jayfeather was almost knocked over by the fear that emanated from the warrior. "It's all the same signs as when I was visiting the Dark Forest."

The words made Jayfeather freeze for a moment, his tail stiffening. "But the Dark Forest is no more," he reminded the gray and white she-cat, his momentary panic washing away. There was no way they could make a return after their defeat. At least, he prayed there wasn't.

"Maybe so," Ivypool meowed, "but I can't ignore the signs. Something has to be done, and I—I don't know what to do."

"Have you spoken to Lionblaze or Cinderheart? Or even Bramblestar?"

"I…no. I haven't." Again Ivypool shrunk down, picking at the moss under paw. "I…didn't want to worry them if it turned out to be no big deal. I mean, I might just be overreacting. Maybe she got the wounds during training, or while out hunting. I should pay more attention to her." Ivypool babbled, her voice a bit panicked. Jayfeather held up a paw to stop her.

"You have every right to be concerned." He told her. A surge of hope rushed through Ivypool as he continued, "You haven't been the only one who's noticed these things. I'm beginning to suspect that she's been leaving camp again, and that she isn't just going for walks to stretch her leg."

"Do you think she's meeting another clan cat? A tom from another clan?!" Ivypool gasped, flattening her ears. But Jayfeather shook his head.

"No, I don't. I don't know what she's doing, but I'll find out." He rumbled. Before Ivypool could respond Moonpaw came bounding back into the den, anxiety rolling inside of her.

"I'm back," she announced, panting and straightening herself up. She hesitated for a couple of moments before meowing, "his breathing sounds like there's some kind of congestion in his chest, and he's coughing a lot. So maybe…Coltsfoot, and honey?" She suggested sheepishly, her voice dying down to a meek whisper.

Jayfeather nodded to her. "Perfect. Get it out, and I'll show you how best to prepare it." The anxiety from Moonpaw melted into pleasure, and the apprentice pushed her way into the herb store behind him. The silver tom turned his attention back to Ivypool, standing and nodding. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

Still unsure but grateful anyways Ivypool left the den with a small thank you. As she left, Jayfeather curled his claws into his nest. He was angry with himself; angry that he'd let his attention pass over his kin. He'd been so focused on training Moonpaw and making sure he had all of the necessary herbs for leaf-bare and caring for all of the minor things around camp, that he'd completely forgotten to keep an eye on Hollypaw. And in that time, things had gotten worse, from the sound of it.

I'll need to get her alone and speak with her, he thought, helping Moonpaw drag out the coltsfoot and honeycombs, and showing her how to give them to the elder.

…

It had been nearly two weeks since Hollypaw's revelations about Solsticestar and his identity. She had met him that night just as he had asked, and found that she was quite happy to see the other apprentices again. They had been wondering if something had happened to Hollypaw, and whether or not she was alright. In her absence they had learned much, and strengthened themselves considerably. Hollypaw knew she'd have to work hard to catch up to them.

Solsticestar gave them no time to catch up with one another. The moment Hollypaw arrived—she was the last of the four to arrive—he leapt straight into their training; beginning with an introduction to a few new cats.

"These cats are here to help us," he purred as the newcomers slunk out of the trees. They were rogues; beat up, mean looking rogues that eyed the apprentices like fresh kill. Instinctively the four young clan cats moved together, warily watching these other cats. None of them looked trustworthy to Hollypaw; the idea that a clan cat would trust them seemed preposterous.

After a few moments, however, Hollypaw realized she was wrong. Though they were mean looking, most of the newcomers were friendly and welcoming. Most of them. Hollypaw recognized the four rogues that her border patrol encountered earlier that day, and they recognized her as well.

"Oi! Lookit this scrap of fur! I seen you with that great big golden idiot earlier." The tabby with the snaggletooth called, stalking up to Hollypaw. She flattened her ears and raised her chin, the fur on her shoulders bristling angrily.

"That's my father you're talking about," she growled.

The snaggletoothed cat merely let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "s'that right? Well, let's hope you ain't as stupid as he was. Picking a fight wit' me! I'da liked to see him try and take me down!" He roared, his claws glinting dangerously.

Fear and anger mixed into one emotion as Hollypaw glared him down, unsheathing her claws and digging them into the dirt. Lionblaze was one of the best warriors in Thunderclan—in fact, she'd never seen him earn even a scratch in any battle or skirmish! She would just love to see this scrappy excuse of a tom take him on. It'd take less than ten seconds for him to be sent running with his tail between his legs.

"Enough!" Solsticestar snapped, coming between the two cats. "We're all going to play nice, and get along with each other. Understand? From here on, you are as good as clanmates—you work together, you battle together, and in the end you will end up having each others' backs; saving each others lives." When questioned as to why they should need help from cats other than clan cats, Solsticestar had an answer prepared.

"This threat is something that goes far beyond the clans," he rumbled sadly, his head and tail drooping. "Cats, both within and outside of the clans, are going to be affected by this threat. We must get all of the help we can, if we are to save them."

"What exactly is this threat?" Hollypaw asked skeptically, gaining the attention of those around her. "You've been telling us that we must be prepared to fight it, and you've been training us, but…how can we have any idea what we're doing if we don't know what we're up against?"

Silence followed her words. For a moment, Solsticestar looked angry—and when the other apprentice's murmured their agreement and turned expectant eyes toward him, his eyes flashed toward Hollypaw. But in another instant he hung his head, looking utterly defeated.

"I do not know," he murmured, sounding tired. He looked a hundred moons older than before, and for an instant Hollypaw felt sorry for him. "Even us Starclan warriors cannot see what is coming—only a vision of darkness and bloodshed. I can sense it, coming on the horizon. Looming over the clans and casting them underneath a dark, dangerous shadow."

All four apprentices were entranced by his words. The rogues behind him looked on, murmuring and flashing looks at one another. Probably at the mentions of Starclan and visions. Solsticestar looked up at the four clan cats, his gaze full of anguish. "I wish I could tell you. I wish I could let you know what was coming, to prepare you to the fullest extent. But I can't—I can only train you, and hope, pray that when it arrives, you will be ready."

Hollypaw began to doubt herself, and she felt guilty for questioning him. It was as if she could feel the darkness pressing on her, could see it crawling toward her home from the horizon, and she leapt into training with renewed vigor.

For the first few days, at least.

Training continued as normal after that day, with a new twist—the rogues, whose numbers grew as the time passed, joined in, sparring with the other apprentices, teaching them brutal moves that weren't taught in clan training. It was exhausting—throw in clan duties on top of that, and Hollypaw felt as if she was going to work herself to death.

She again began to question Solsticestar's motives, as he seemed to care less about their well being, and more about making them stronger. She couldn't count the number of times she'd stumbled, or paused to take a breather, or even stopped to check herself over for wounds—training was always with claws unsheathed, after all—only to be reprimanded and attacked once more. "You'll perform better if there is an actual threat," Solsticestar had chided, watching Hollypaw lick blood from a scratch on her flank. Many nights, while waiting for her denmates to fall asleep, Hollypaw had thought about staying in camp and getting a good night's rest. But she didn't dare not show up—the scratch on her muzzle remained there, a thin scar parting the fur: a constant reminder of the leader's haunting words.

After another few days, Hollypaw again brought up a burning question. "Solsticestar," she started when the cats took a small break from sparring, "I want to ask you something."

"Go on, then." He quipped, lashing his tail. His eyes were narrowed, and Hollypaw had to work up her nerve to speak.

"How come we can't tell our clans about what we're doing?" She asked, steeling her resolve.

"I've told you this before, they won't listen to reason," he explained, sitting and curling his tail neatly around his paws. As if they were talking about something as small and simple as the weather.

"I know, but—wouldn't the clans have a better chance if they were warned, even if they took no action to combat the threat?" She asked. Solsticestar narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but Hollypaw quickly continued, "I mean—if you spoke to them, not to the medicine cats but the clans themselves, maybe they'll understand. If you tell them about the prophecy—"

"Do you think I haven't tried?" Solsticestar cut in, sounded exasperated. "I have spoken to leaders—to warriors and queens and medicine cats. None will heed my words! None have listened to me—except you four. That is why you four must save them." He finished. Hollypaw flattened her ears.

"Well, what if we helped you try and convince them?"

"Do you think your clan will listen to the words of mere apprentices? When no other Starclan warriors will listen, how do you expect to convince them of what is to come?" He asked desperately, searching Hollypaw's face as if he'd find his answer hidden between her whiskers.

She had no response.

The more time that passed, the more questions Hollypaw had than answers. The more frazzled she became—balancing her apprentice duties, social life, her time with Solsticestar, and sleep was getting to her. When she wasn't about to drop from exhaustion, questions filled her mind in a constant stream. Questions she wanted answers to, but was too scared to ask about. Questions she knew would anger Solsticestar, or her clan, and the more these questions nagged at her the more she wanted to confess to someone what she was doing—the more she wanted to ask someone for help.

But fear kept her quiet. Fear of what Solsticestar would do if she told her clan; fear of what her clan would do if they found out about her meetings. Fear of what would become of the clans if she couldn't live up to the prophecy. Fear that everything would become too much, and that she would suffocate under the pressure.

…

Hollypaw landed heavily on the frosty ground, the starling fluttering through her claws and perching itself on the safety of a branch with a loud squawk. The black cat stared up at the creature for a few long moments, ears flattened and tail lashing. "Stupid bird," she muttered, whipping around and stalking away.

She thrust her way between two dead bushes to see Ivypool talking with Foxleap, Nettlepaw sitting by quietly. All three of them had at least one piece of prey between their paws, and turned their gazes onto the frustrated apprentice as she appeared.

"Did you catch anything?" Ivypool asked gently.

"No," Hollypaw snapped, sitting down and lashing her tail. The two warriors exchanged a concerned look, and Nettlepaw flinched at his sister's harshness.

"Are you feeling alright?" Foxleap asked very slowly. Hollypaw turned her gaze up to him, eyes narrowed to tiny slits. She was feeling as far from right as she possibly could; her fur was beginning to dull and become ragged and she was constantly tired, limbs heavy with exhaustion, body feeling like lead. Lack of proper sleep was beginning to put her in a constant terrible mood, as everybody fretted over her like a lame kit. And to top it off, every night she was subjected to dangerous training, to fight something only Starclan knows—except, they didn't know. So she had no idea what she was even training for.

"I'm fine," she muttered, flattening her ears. Dubious looks met her response, but nobody pushed the subject.

"Let's head back to camp, then." Foxleap replied, picking up his catch. The others followed suit, following the red warrior as he led the way back home. Hollypaw fell into step at the back of the group, the crunching of frost covered leaves almost deafening. The others didn't speak, nor did they cast worried looks back at her. Something that she was grateful for. She was getting really tired of it. And so they walked a silent, single file line through the forest, weaving around bushes and along the trodden paths, heading home to deposit their spoils into the stash of fresh-kill to be saved for the harsher winter months.

Hollypaw stared at the ground as she walked, feet dragging. Already her irritation gave way to guilt, and she felt bad for snapping at the two warriors. She was a bit surprised they didn't reprimand her, but she wasn't exactly complaining about that.

A great fluttering sound caught her attention, and the line of cats stopped, pricking their ears. It was strange; similar to the sound of leaves in the wind, but not quite that. Hollypaw had an inkling that she knew what the sound was, if she could just see the source…

And then it hit her. Literally.

From the left came a great gust of wind, and with it something large and white slapped the apprentice in the face. The shock made her topple over backwards, yelping in surprise as the thing wrapped around her, crinkling in her ears loudly. For a moment, Hollypaw felt panicked; the thing seemed to stick to her fur, cold and unfamiliar, and she wondered if this was some sort of elaborate trap set by twolegs to catch foxes.

She heard the exclamations from the rest of her patrol as she was seemingly swept away with this thing, dropping their catch and following her as she tumbled.

As soon as it had hit her and knocked her sideways, though, she was free. The thing stuck to the forest floor more than her fur and she rolled sideways off of it and leapt to her feet. Her eyes were wide and her fur was spiked, staring at it apprehensively.

It was quite large, mostly white with a few splashes of color here and there. It crinkled like leaves, and was probably about as wide as a full grown warrior and as long as a fox. As the other cats came up to her side and gave the same reactions to the strange thing, Hollypaw straightened up, her gaze resting on the middle as she recognized the object.

It was a piece of paper; no, more like a poster, with a large faded picture on it.

"What is it?" Nettlepaw asked worriedly, giving it a cautious sniff.

"I'm not sure…" Ivypool murmured, gently prodding it with a claw before scrambling away, just in case it decided to leap at her next.

"Are you alright Hollypaw? You aren't injured, are you?" Foxleap asked, his gaze brimming with worry. Hollypaw dragged her gaze away from the poster and shook her head, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat.

"I'm okay. Just a bit spooked." She admitted, turning her gaze downwards again.

"This must be some kinda twoleg…thing." Ivypool meowed, searching for a word to describe it and finding none.

"We should leave it be. We can tell Bramblestar and let him decide what to do with it." Foxleap added, taking a few steps back.

"What if it flies off again?" Nettlepaw asked, cocking his head to the side. Ivypool hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

"I don't know. I don't want to leave it in our territory…we should let Firestar know, and maybe we can pass the message on to the other clans." Nettlepaw and Foxleap murmured in agreement, leaving the paper and going back to their fresh kill. But Hollypaw stayed where she was, staring at it intently.

It was heavily faded, possibly from water damage, but she could make out the face of a twoleg. At least, what she thought to be a twoleg. She twisted her head, squinting and lifting her chin, turning from side to side to see if she could make out more of it from different angles. Something about the picture was achingly familiar, nagging at the back of her mind.

"Hollypaw, what are you doing? That thing might be dangerous!" Ivypool exclaimed, turning and giving her apprentice a sharp look. Hollypaw hesitated for another moment before backing away, turning to follow the others back to camp. Ivypool's gaze burned into Hollypaw's fur as she fell into step behind her brother, and she gave her mentor a sheepish look.

As they departed Hollypaw turned and cast one last look at the poster. It fluttered weakly, picked up by a gust of wind and flipping over numerous times. It came to rest at the base of a tree, sticking to the wood as the wind pressed against it, and Hollypaw could see the picture clearly now, from a distance.

It was definitely a twoleg, with long black hair and pale skin. Its eyes were too squinty and its face too round, cheeks too fat, and there was a faint dusting a freckles across its cheeks—too light to be noticed, usually, but the owner insisted that they were there. Because freckles were cute. And there was a tiny scar that split the owner's chin that she had gotten from falling off of a swing set, and beneath the thin smile was a set of perfectly straight teeth thanks to three years of braces, and all of these thoughts and memories flooded through Hollypaw's mind as she stared at the picture, the breath hitching in her throat, mind drawing a blank as she found herself staring at a picture of herself—with the words 'missing persons' written in big, bold letters just above.