K so I was thinking about writing a lot and that I kind of missed creative writing, so looking back on this story while scarfing down a bag of skittles I remembered how much I liked Tigerstar and the potential his character held before I literally fucking murdered him. In the midst of my writers' block and impatience for the story to continue, I completely ignored Tigerstar's character arc in favour of Nigel's. I've given it thought and decided to make the completely unprofessional decision of retracking my steps and undoing Chapter 24. As of [5/17/19], I have uploaded a new Chapter 24. It might not seem like it changed like at all but don't worry about it.

Also most likely I've made changes to the current Chapter 23 by the time this is uploaded, but not enough for it to change everything completely, hopefully.


"If you think this has a happy ending, then you haven't been paying attention."

-Game of Thrones

Chapter 24:: Fortunate Meetings and New Beginnings

The den was snugly warm, and a soft glow of light not unlike sunlight illuminated it. Firefur was curled in its warmth, alone but not quite. A pleasant smell drifted to her, the scent of roses and Summer that she associated with romance in its sweetness.

Coming to her senses slowly, she found the strength in her muscles to rise. Now sitting in an upright position, she looked around the den briefly. It was made of gracefully interwoven vines and roses adorned with morbidly beautiful thorns.

How appropriate, muttered a bitter piece of her mind, the skeptical part that was not at all awestruck by the sight.

The source of the golden light became clear to her as she looked towards the exit of the den. It was a warm, inviting light like that of the rising sun. She found herself being drawn towards it before she willed her limbs to move.

But, just as she was about to leave the den, enter the heavenly light, she stopped. This light, this... heavenly light, she didn't belong in it. She didn't deserve it, not by far. She recoiled from it, backing into the thorns and crying out in pain as the sharp roses embraced her.

(POV: Whitepaw)

Whitepaw struggled to keep up with Digger. "Please, just slow down," she panted.

Digger looked behind him with a sharp growl. "You claim to have run here from the ThunderClan camp, and yet you fail to briskly walk from here to ShadowClan."

Whitepaw also growled in frustration. "Why are we going to ShadowClan anyway?"

"Tigerstar asked me to take you there. He trusted me to keep you safe and to do that you need to walk quickly." He spun back around and started forward again.

Whitepaw followed. "Won't Jaunestar just give me up to Dominique?"

Digger shook his head. "Jaunestar hates Dominique. He'll go to extreme lengths to keep you away from him for the sake of spite."

Whitepaw thought of the oddly-eyed tom on top of the GreatRock the night of her first Gathering. His fur gave off a golden light where most cats' would shine silver in the moonlight, and his voice had the quality of a hissing snake. Not in a bad way, though. If he hadn't been speaking such atrocities, Whitepaw would have been drawn into the subtle rise and fall of his voice, the stature of his figure against the moon. He was intriguing, but Whitepaw's paws shook in fear at the thought of being within a few tail-lengths on him.

"But- Digger," she said suddenly in an outburst of fear.

"What?" He looked back with glaring eyes, but immediately softened once he saw her state. "What?" he asked with less aggression.

Her breath was shuddering, her voice little more than a whisper. "What will he do to me? If he hates my father so much, won't he want to hurt me?"

Digger scoffed. "Dominique nearly killed your brother a few days ago rather than let him stay in the claws of someone else. He doesn't care about your well-being, he just wants slaves to control. Come on, love, I promise I won't let anything happen to you."

Whitepaw nodded. His words were comforting, if only slightly. She knew his protection of her came only from loyalty to his leader.

"Alright, let's go." He took off again.

Whitepaw followed.

(POV: WindClan)

Nigel, fur bloody and eyes maddened, stalked into the WindClan camp. Behind him, Sergei dragged the body of Tigerstar by the scruff of its neck, and behind Sergei marched Whisper and Eliza.

Eliza was a friend of Whisper's- an old acquaintance in more accurate words. But along the journey from home to WindClan and during the process of eliminating it, they had quickly become better friends. Whisper could tell that the red she-cat didn't at all miss the forest they had come from. There wasn't much to miss anyways, Whisper supposed. Just the old rumour circles and unremarkable trees.

A smear of blood followed Tigerstar's body. Cats moved silently out of the way of Nigel's menacing stare as he made his way to the Highrock. Sergei dropped Tigerstar's body in the center of the camp gracelessly and backed away to let them all see. Their leader is dead. Fallowstar rules this Clan once again.

Sorrelspot could hardly look at the bloody fur of the fool. That damned fool. That stupid fucking fool. Now what? Now what were the cats of WindClan to do, again bound to a life of servitude under a psychopath?

Sitting in all his grace and brewing in his hatred of the world upon his new throne, Nigel spoke.

"WindClan is mine."

(POV: Trickface)

"By the stars," Viperswipe muttered.

Trickface looked to him, then back to the scene below them.

They crouched behind some brambles on the edge of WindClan's camp, watching Tigerstar's body being dragged to its center.

Who is that? Trickface wondered, but didn't dare break the tense silence.

The tom whose fur was covered in blood leapt onto the Highrock.

"WindClan is mine," he growled. "Does anybody wish to oppose my rule?"

There was silence. Then the cat seemed to notice someone.

"Sorrelspot."

All eyes went to the medicine cat, whose expression was still as cool and disaffected as usual.

"Yes?" His voice was tired, and tense, but still held that elegant quality. Trickface admired that about him.

"What are your thoughts on these current events?"

Even from Trickface's distance, one could see the anger in Sorrelspot's tension. It would never come to an outburst of violence though. He had a condescending and murderous sarcasm in him which was as natural to him as a set of claws would be to any other cat. Trickface thought this instinct within him came from an intelligence higher than that of most cats, knowing that pure violence hardly leads to great things. It was honestly a shame that he'd chosen the life of a medicine cat, the ShadowClan warrior thought. His calculative, astute nature would have made for a very superior battle strategist, a very interesting challenge to overcome.

"I think nothing of them," he answered the cat on the rock.

"Really?" the rock cat asked, amused.

Sorrelspot nodded. "I am sworn to serve the leader of WindClan. I will accept the change of leadership with the grace StarClan would expect of me."

Rock Cat made an amused humming noise. "Grand. You'll stand vigil for the loss of Tigerscratch, our unfortunate mislead deputy, I assume?"

Sorrelspot dipped his head to confirm.

"Good. Sergei will as well."

The black cat who had dragged Tigerstar's body bowed curtly.

"We should go," Viperswipe whispered close to Trickface's ear.

Trickface nodded. Slowly, hugging the ground, they backed away.

Once they were a safe distance away, they straightened.

"Who the fuck was that?" Trickface asked.

"That was Fallowstar, former leader of WindClan," Viperswipe answered. "He left when I was an apprentice."

Trickface knew about Fallowstar. He left willingly, going off into the sunset like some sort of disciple on a mission for the divines. How someone could just give up that leadership and power Trickface could never understand.

"How'd you recognize him through all the blood?" he asked.

The grey warrior gave him a wary side-eye. "Fallowstar often appeared in such a state. He thirsted for blood, no matter where it came from."

Trickface scoffed. "Sounds like my father."

"No, nothing like Jaunestar." Viperswipe shook his head. "At least your father is smart; he'd never massacre his own warriors."

"His own warriors?" he repeated. "What kind of leader does that?"

StarClan, the Clans had gone insane.

"Oi, who's that?"

Both warriors were alert instantly.

"Who's asking?" Viperswipe called back.

"Oh, just your regular lowlife." Movement caught Trickface's eyes as a grey silhouette became apparent from behind a boulder. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know about a little kitten named Whitepaw, would you?"

(POV: Reid)

Reid staggered from the cover of the shadows to come closer to the strange cats. The moonlight glinting off of the smaller one's claws stopped him from getting too close, though.

"Whitepaw?" the cat asked, "Rockpaw of ThunderClan's sister?"

Yes!

"Yes, exactly! I need her."

"For what purpose?" said the slightly larger one.

"Does it matter?" Reid didn't know what terms these two were on with Dominique, and he didn't want to ruin what might be a great opportunity.

The cat thought a moment, cautiously. "No, I suppose it doesn't," he eventually answered.

"So do you know where she is?" Reid questioned. "I checked the WindClan camp but she isn't there anymore."

"She was at WindClan this entire time?" The cat was obviously surprised.

Reid felt the crushing weight of disappointment as he realized this chance encounter would not in fact lead to great fortune. These cats hardly knew who she was.

He sighed. "Nevermind, I suppose. Good evening." he prepared to leave.

"Wait; hold on a sec," the larger cat called. Reid slowly turned.

"Come with us."

Both Reid and the small one looked at him, slightly shocked.

"To where?" Reid asked.

"To ShadowClan. I think that you and Jaunestar would be fast friends."

Reid looked to the younger cat, who merely shrugged.

Dominique had told him about Jaunestar, spoken fondly of him. A cat of great virtue as far as the former warrior was concerned, unmatched in battle, in wit, and in tenacity. Well, perhaps these cats might be able to give them something he wanted or needed.

"I'd be honored to accompany you," he said with a small bow of his head.

He had a feeling he could turn this chance meeting into a new stage of his life; something completely new.

And much more fun.