Okay! Quick update is a GO!

Icestar0921 - Oh, darn, and I tried to make it not a cliffie. XD

Amazingly awesome person - NU-UH. Americans totally drive on the right side of the road. The right side is the right side. XD And was Lucky funny? I totally cracked up writing his crazy scenes. I have a few more in this chapter that will hopefully be lolsome. This new animated Lucky is a crap-ton - I mean Voldemort-ton - of fun to write about! XD And I'm glad that Marco and Max have fans! I did like them bunches so I just had to bring them back. XD

XxJabberjayxX - Lightfoot is definitely something else. In a way, it's so fun to write about the psychopaths but in another it's a little disturbing. Anything that's too tough for Twist and Declan to do I guess I can just hand over to Lightfoot and she'll git 'er done. XD About sequels: that's what I thought, too. I almost want to just keep going on with this one and have it be like a zillion words long but I think it would be much better to just have a clean slate for a new one. XD

LegendaryHero - I do love your lovely long reviews. XD Yeah, I tried to keep Braiser's death on the DL 'cause I want more POW for the real climax of the story. And I'm glad that the moments are working out well 'cause I'm always afraid that I'm going to make them too...saccharine. And that's terrible. XD I've been thinking about it a lot today and I figure I could do something like a six month to a year timeskip and then just pick up from there. The next generation thing is always so...blaaah. I did it for my other series but only after the second bit. XD

Blazingstar of ThunderClan - Hee! Romances are just sooooo much fun to write about. X3 I am so glad that it made you laugh. That's really, like, the best praise ever, I think. So just for you I added another funny Lucky scene in this chapter. XD

Queen of Pens - I definitely would love to write a sequel now. The idea has taken root in my brain like kudzu. XD

Brook that ripples in breeze - Haha, very cool! I kind of would like to have two different colored eyes if only for bragging rights. XD

Before The Winter's Dawn - Hooo, coolies~! Mine's from a Breaking Benjamin song that I like. X3 Even busier next semester! I signed up for sixteen credit hours! And two workshops! And I have to get a REAL job! D: But I need something to have fun writing, don't I? ;)

Mintheart - Haha! Then there shall be! :D

theDiabolical - I cease to amaze you? Then I shall simply have to try harder. Total jk. XD

Tangleflame - Kits? Hmm...perhaps. :3

Rapidfeather - Hello, new reviewer~! Woooooooow, lots of praise~ -sparkly eyes- You liked this story that much? -very pleased- Ohhh, reading my other stuff? Hahaha, good luck with thaaaaat. Please don't blame me for the older stuff: I knew not what I was doing! XD

squirrelheart - Heehee~! -very pleased-

tufted titmouse - And after all that, I didn't even get shortcake. I got done at like midnight and that's too late to eat dessert! -major sadface- Though I made up for it today by eating pound cake and whipped cream. X3

artemis7337 - Haha, I don't think you even need skills. I don't have them and I managed to make one. Perhaps I can make it my profile picture or something so I can show it off. His eye is a little wonky and his tail is crooked but he's very plushy. X3 Hee! I didn't want Twist to have to bloody her paws, so to say, for the second time and I mentioned a looooong time ago that Lightfoot was there...so it all worked out. XD I try to keep it light on the moments so they don't get overdone. You must tell me if they stop becoming good. XD And pine no longer, Artemis! Here it is! XD

the lone geisha - Sure am! Floridian, born and bred! Though I dislike orange juice and sunshine... I must have some of my dad's Chicago blood in me. X3

Gooooooosh, so many reviews. I'm getting a little spoiled from all the love from you guys. Together, let's reach 300 reviews! I think I would totally die of happiness if I reached 300 reviews. Srsly. I might have to offer a prize or something. A oneshot for whoever gets the 300th review or something. X3

Anyway, enough of that.

Onto the story!


Leaving the healing den, Declan and Twist rushed through the tunnel, ducking beneath blows and yowls alike, sidestepping the fury of cats too beyond looking to see who they were fighting. It was a frenzy, madness. No cat was unscathed from this battle.

Declan broke free from the tunnel first, falling back until Twist was at his side once more. "Are you okay?" he asked, breathless.

She nodded. The cut on her lip—accidentally bestowed upon her by a pent-up Kite—was bleeding, dripping down onto one of the lightning-like white marks on her face, staining it scarlet. "I'm fine." She licked her lips, wrinkling her nose at the taste of her own blood. "You're bleeding too, you know," she said, with a little more snappishness than usual.

Declan was a little taken aback. Even when she was upset, Twist never spoke to him like that. Not since the first few days when they had only just met. "I'm just worried for you."

"I know." She took a deep breath, lowering her voice. "But you don't need to be, okay? I'm fine. You don't have to stress yourself out worrying over me." She went to walk away, her tail low and sweeping the ground.

Declan just stared at her. Did I do something wrong? He didn't remember doing anything to upset her. Could she still be upset about her father's death? Was that it?

And despite what he had told her earlier, a sour pit of bile rose in his throat when he thought about it, Braiser's body. He didn't think he would ever be able to get that image out of his head, of the broken tom destroyed even further, soaking in his own blood, his eyes sightlessly staring upwards, curved in terror.

Declan shivered.

Twist had gone on ahead, taking a Claw guard by surprise. She leapt on his back and sank her teeth into his neck, making him screech in pain and surprise. A moment later, Declan saw why she had done it: the tom had Ink pinned beneath his claws.

Declan rushed forward to help but Twist had it covered. Her claws deeply curved into the Claw's pelt, she worried at his ears with her fangs, shrieking furiously into his face. The guard shook, leaping up in the air and twisting around, but he could not shake her.

Ink got shakily to his paws, one side of his face soaked with blood. Blinking it out of his eyes, he looked up at Declan, momentarily confused. "You? I attacked you earlier!"

"I know. It's okay now. I'm a friend." He hadn't known Ink very well during his time in the Sliders but he did like his brothers, Ren and Pip. The three toms, black as night, had been among those who had come erupting up out of the ground like a nest of angry ants. They were the ones who had fought so viciously for the Sliders.

Ink nodded. "I know. I'm sorry that I got you before. You smelled like the Claws, you know." He was more alert now, the concentration sliding back into his blue eyes.

Twist joined them, out of breath and with fur ruffled: she had fought off the guard and sent him howling into the woods. "How are we doing out here?" she asked Ink.

He shook his head. "Not as good as Lucky wants us to. We've lost a few already. Ginger got caught off guard by a guard and they…they got her. Snow, too, and Jay."

Declan let out a soft sound of distress. "And the Claws?"

Ink's eyes hardened. "Similar losses."

Declan felt a rather horrible twist of pleasure. As long we we're suffering, they should be suffering, was his first thought, though he was immediately repulsed by it. He shouldn't be wishing ill-will on any cat, especially not his enemies. That just meant he was on the same level as they were.

And Declan detested the thought of himself sinking that low—not ever again.

Ink hissed, his ears flattening as he looked at something over Declan's shoulder. "Get back to the fight. I have some more fur to rip." He pushed past him, his paws flying over the ground. He pounced on a Claw guard so hard they both tipped backwards, tumbling into the paws of another battling pair.

Twist jerked to follow but Declan stopped her. "That's Ink's fight. We have to find Audrey, remember?"

Twist bared her teeth. "I know. But we can't just—"

"We have our objective. You really want to let Kite down? I wouldn't really want to see her mad, would you?"

Twist cringed, obviously imagining it. "No."

"Good." He licked her ear quickly, not missing how she tried to twitch it out of his reach. What was going on with her? Hiding his hurt feelings, he said, "Come on. She has to be around here somewhere."

The battle was still raging even as the sun peeked beyond the horizon, spilling red-orange light across the ground, sending long shadows through the Warren like black branches. Declan ducked as a Claw guard flew in front of him, claws splayed for attack, but he soared over his head, aiming for the cat behind Declan: Ren, Ink's brother. The tom hit Ren with the force of a boulder falling but Ren matched it, fighting him back, sending him to the ground.

All around, the Sliders were gaining the advantage. Marco and Max, still together, had Midnight—Sorrow's captain—pinned. They were ripping pawfuls of fur from his pelt, laughing as he tried to escape, dodging the slashes of his hindpaws. Zib, one of Declan's former Claw guard acquaintances, was being cornered by Iggy and Kent, with Pip rushing to join them.

And out of all of them came rushing up a tiny white she-cat, mostly untouched save for the terror in her bright blue eyes. "Twist!" she cried.

Twist's eyes widened. "Vivian!" She sprang towards the much smaller she-cat, rubbing her muzzle quickly with hers. "You're alive! Thank the stars! I haven't seen you since—"

"Twist, everything is going so wrong," she was squeaking, shaking all over like a baby bird. "I can't find anybody! I tried to fight, I really did, but I don't know how and I was just—" She let out a little mewl, her eyes squeezing shut.

Sounding very, very gentle, Twist said, "Vivian, go down that metal tunnel. At the very bottom, there's a hole in the ground. You'll find a cat named Kite there. Tell her I sent you. You can stay down there and protect the kits. Listen, Vivian—no, listen!" she insisted when Vivian protested. "You have to. I can't be worrying that you'll be hurt out here. Go and find Kite. She'll protect you."

Vivian's eyes were full of fear. "What about you?"

Twist curved her lips wryly. "Don't worry about me. Just get to safety!"

Vivian pushed her nose into Twist's fur once more and was gone.

"A friend?" Declan asked her. Then it hit him. "That's one of the workers. I know her."

"She and Kip were the only ones I liked there," Twist told him, her eyes roving around behind him, not meeting his. "I don't know where Kip is either. I hope she's okay." Then she hissed, eyes narrowing in furious recognition. Declan turned to follow her gaze.

Bronze, Declan saw with a start, was wrestling with Viktor now, teeth bared, claws flashing. Declan hadn't realized the Rogue's favorite son had joined the battle—he must have come along when the Rogue had.

Twist saw him, too. She drew her lips back from her teeth, leaping forward to join Viktor, shoving her way between them until her claws were embedded in Bronze's fur. He yowled, long and loud, as her claws met skin.

"Where's the Rogue?" she demanded in a yowl. When he said nothing, she curled her claws deeper. "Where is he? Tell me!"

Bronze hissed in her face, his ears pinned to his skull. Casting her a dark, furious look, he exposed his fangs.

Declan rushed up and joined Twist, his hackles up.

Bronze's marked eyes widened when he saw Declan. "Well well. It's you. Traitor."

"You can't be a traitor if you were brainwashed," Declan snarled.

Bronze chuckled, low in his throat. "I suppose so. Though I still don't care for your threats. And what is this? Three on one? That seems fair. It appears that the Sliders have learned their fighting tactics from alley cats with no morals."

"Where is the Rogue?" Twist growled again, forcing her face so close to his that their whiskers brushed.

Wincing one eye closed as her whisker prodded it, Bronze said, "It's too late for Snit. He's dead."

Viktor, recovering from the fight, rejoined the argument now. "We already know that. The Rogue will pay dearly for it."

Bronze laughed again, louder this time. "You think that Snit was a hero, do you? Well, he wasn't. He was a traitor for both sides. Nothing saved him in the end. He was killed because of his cowardice." He narrowed his eyes to dark, multicolored slits. "I hope he lost his way to the stars. I hope he wanders in the darkness forever."

Declan was sickened; it was the worst insult that a cat could tell another, in his experience with the Sliders. Once, in his very first few days here, he had heard a young cat tell another that. He had gotten his ears boxed soundly by his mother and a firm scolding from both Lucky and Wisp.

Viktor, similarly outraged, flashed out a paw. He caught Bronze by the throat, pushing him into the dirt, grinding his face into the dust until Bronze yowled in pain. Forcing all his weight on Bronze's throat, Viktor growled darkly, "You are going to tell me where the Rogue is or I swear on my kits' lives I will stand here and watch you die."

Bronze, eyes bugging out of his head, bared his teeth, though more in panic now than in cynicism. "Alright," he choked out and Viktor released him. Bronze rolled to his side, getting his front paws beneath him, his hind legs still splayed out behind him. He retched for a moment, taking deep breaths in through his crushed throat, then turned his loathing, watery eyes on them. "What do you want to know?"

"I think it's been made perfectly clear what we want." Twist pulled her claws out of Bronze's chest, leaving behind bloody punctures in his dirty fur.

Bronze shot her a dirty look. "The master is here, somewhere in the Warren. I might have led the charge in here but he's the one who directed me to." He laughed then, the sound shaky. "If things are getting bad, be assured he will make a run for it. My father is many things—including a coward. He came to get revenge and he did, partially anyway. Snit's dead. My father is appeased for now. He'll go back to the cliffs and—"

"And consult his little friend Braiser?" Twist said tauntingly, surprising Declan once again with the hate and revulsion in her voice. "Too bad. He's dead."

And now Bronze looked truly shocked. "That's impossible."

"It's true. I know. I watched him die."

"You're wrong!" Bronze spat. "Braiser is the most protected cat in the entire Claw ranks. No one even knows about him! How could you, a stupid little she-cat, know about him?"

"Don't worry how," Declan said disparagingly. "All you need to know is that he's dead. So go on and find your master. Tell him that we're looking for him. If he tries to run, we'll alert the Sliders and he'll be dead before he makes it up the hill."

"You're looking for a fair fight?" Bronze asked sardonically. "You won't get one. My father is a master at fighting. He's the one who trained every cat in the Claws."

"Well, I think we've fought enough Claws by now to know how they battle," Viktor pointed out, his eye flashing. "Now get. If I see you here again, I won't hold back."

Bronze bared his teeth, sliding up onto all four paws. With one last glare between them, he vanished up over a box-nest and was gone.

Viktor sighed. "All these Claws. They're all the same—spewing the same rubbish."

"You have no idea," Declan muttered.

"Yes, you are speaking about smoke treatment, are you not?" Lucky came padding up, looking affable as ever despite his increasingly evident unkemptness; it was like the battle had brought out an entirely new Lucky, one who had finally opened up into a real cat. At his side was Lightfoot, looking as edgy and dangerous as he looked composed. "I have heard much of the story from Lightfoot here." He turned to her, remorseful. "I am sorry that I did not invest more time in finding you, Lightfoot. I sincerely apologize for my actions. I was thinking only of myself. I know better now. Will you accept my request for forgiveness?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Lightfoot was all business now, her eyes darting around the Warren.

Lucky looked delighted. He turned to Declan then, who unconsciously took a step backwards. To see Lucky this animated was rather…disarming.

"Declan, I believe this is the first time I have spoken to you since you returned from the Claws. How are you today?"

"Uh…fantastic." Declan didn't know what to say. He was still reeling from Lucky's sudden liveliness.

"That is good to hear," Lucky said cordially.

"Now that we've gotten that out of the way," Lightfoot said roughly, "can we get back to the fight?"

"Oh, yes. Let us go and fight once more. Declan and Twist, I must tell you: I have never felt more alive than in this moment."

"That's great to hear, Lucky," Twist said, her whiskers twitching.

"I am being serious," he insisted firmly.

"Oh, no, we believe you," Declan said. "Trust me."

Lucky nodded, his dark eyes flashing. "Then will you accompany me to find my brother? It appears that he is also in need of a sound lashing. Or, as they say—"

"A beat-down?" Twist supplied helpfully.

Lucky blinked. "I was going to say, a brawl. But I suppose 'beat-down' would also suffice in this situation. Come now. It will be easy to tempt the Rogue out into the open if I make my presence more apparent." He took off, following after Lightfoot, who charged head-first into the fray like a diving hawk, knocking cats aside as if they weighed no more than fallen leaves.

After a shared, brief look of amusement, Declan and Twist followed him.

Lucky lead them right into the open middle section of the Warren, past the box-nests and the metal pipe, past the huge stacks of no-pelt machine paws and rubbish, to where the ground was hard-packed from fighting. He stood there for a moment, surveying the cats still fighting, then cleared his throat. "My fellow cats—"

"They can't hear you," Lightfoot spat. "You need to be louder."

"Oh," Lucky said, looking a bit surprised. "I believe I can be louder." He straightened, standing as tall as he could, then said in a mildly annoyed voice, "If I could have your attention, please. I have something to say."

"Louder!" Lightfoot hissed.

Lucky whipped his head around, catching sight of an unusually large machine paw. Hopping up on top of it, he said in the loudest voice Declan had ever heard him use, "If everyone would stop fighting for just a moment, I would like to speak!"

"Shut up!" Lightfoot yowled in addition.

At once, the battle stopped. Cats of both sides stared up at Lucky, their mouths hanging open in the same astonishment Declan felt on his own face.

"Thank you," Lucky said politely. To Twist and Declan, standing just below, he noted, "That was rather difficult. I am not used to being ignored like that. Tell me, is that what you feel, Twist, when you try and speak to another cat?"

Looking rather insulted at that, Twist said, "No."

"Interesting." Lucky turned back to the crowd. He suddenly seemed to realize just how many cats were there; his tail flicked behind him nervously. "I would like to say just a few things before you restart your fighting, if that would be alright."

"Who is this kook?" Declan heard a Claw guard mutter to the cat next to him.

"I am not a kook," Lucky assured him seriously. "In fact, I am Lucky, the leader of the Sliders. I would just like to say that if there is a cat out there whom is trying to kill me—I will not name names—you are now aware of my position." He turned to Declan and whispered, "Did you hear me say 'I will not name names?' That was for dramatic effect. In reality, these cats do know the name of the cat who is trying to kill me. It is the Rogue."

"Yes, I think we all understood that, Lucky," Lightfoot said disparagingly.

"Oh good. I was afraid that it would not be unambiguous enough." He coughed, clearing his throat again, and added to the crowd, "Let me repeat. I am Lucky. The leader of the Sliders. I just wanted to make that fact clear. I will stand upon this machine paw and watch as you continue your battle. If one among you wishes to come and try to kill me, perhaps because of a personal vendetta, I believe this would be the opportune time. I will continue to remain in this position just in case the thought crosses your mind. Thank you for your attention. You may resume your fighting now."

The crowd of cats looked bewildered. They exchanged glances, clearly unsure what to do.

Lightfoot, always to be relied upon in a fight, stalked forward, a growl rising in her throat, and barreled into the nearest guard. With an ear-splitting yowl, the fight began again.

Lucky surveyed the battle with clinical interest. "That was successful, I believe. They have listened to what I have to say. That is very good."

"Now we just wait for the Rogue to make his appearance."

"Yes," Lucky agreed distantly. His eyes flicked across the sea of cats, fixing on one here and there, no doubt looking for his brother. "Tell me, Declan, are you aware of the danger in which we have placed ourselves? The Rogue is a very conniving fighter. Once, long ago, he attempted to force me to fight him. I did not, and I never regretted it. Wisp explained to me that it was imperative I stay alive. I have never once questioned her." He turned, eyes very dark in his face. "Tell me, Declan, did I make the correct choice? Was I wrong to favor my own life over the lives of others? Was it wrong that I wanted to survive just as much as the cats who I command? Tell me."

Twist spoke then, softly. "It's not wrong to want to save yourself. But when cats become more important to you, you have to put them before yourself."

Declan didn't look over at her but he knew what her face would look like. When they had first met, Twist had shown a fierce protection for her own life, explaining that her gang had always forced that reason upon her. Over time, slowly, she had begun to change. She had been more open with him, more trusting. More of the cat she was today: a fierce, smart, dedicated, beautiful she-cat.

And Declan loved her for it, more achingly and powerfully than he had ever loved anyone or anything.

He loved her so much it scared him.

He loved her so much he thought he would die if anything happened to her.

He had known that for a long time, though, he mused as he looked out over the battle. The very first day he met her he had wanted to be next to her. No one's light burned as strongly as Twist's did. No cat was so enduringly loyal to other cats than her. She was everything that Declan thought a true warrior was, everything a cat could be.

Everything he wanted to be.

Twist said, "We can't stay here forever. Snit told me that he had wounded the Rogue. What if he's already escaped?"

"If I still know the cat that was once my brother," Lucky said distantly, "he will not run. He is around here somewhere, I am confident of it. We just need a little more time. He will make himself known soon." Then his voice lowered. "I was not aware that Snit was what he was but I admire him for it. It takes a lot of, I believe the word is, guts to accomplish what he did. I am thankful that he chose to stand by the Sliders and die for us. He was a courageous cat. I will grieve for him."

Declan thought that Lucky seemed genuine, but it was always so difficult to tell—especially now in this near-manic atmosphere he was giving off.

Twist, half-hidden behind the machine paws, was silent again. Her eyes were misted over, unfocused. With memories? Regrets? Declan didn't know and he certainly didn't want to ask her. She had been in a weird mood ever since Braiser had been killed and he didn't want to put any more pressure on her. She had to expect it was coming soon anyway—the end.

Declan wasn't sure he was ready for it.

Lightfoot reappeared. "Lucky, come quick," she hissed. "He's trying to escape!"

Lucky's eyes widened minutely. "Oh my," he said quietly. "I was so convinced he would stay and fight. I was so looking forward to it." He leapt to the ground lithely, landing evenly on all four paws. When he straightened, he set his jaw. "But now I will have to be the pursuer, I suppose. Come, Lightfoot. I believe you will assist me excellently. Twist, Declan, I would like your presence as well. And Viktor also. I must apologize to him. I have been very callous towards him. He is, after all, my oldest and dearest companion."

"You mean best friend," Declan aided.

Lucky nodded. "Yes, best friend. My comrade. Buddy. Pal."

"Please, for the love of everything pure and good in this world, just stop it. You're going to make me vomit." Lightfoot rolled her eyes for effect. "You were so much more bearable when your voice was a monotone."

They ran back up the channel of cats who had now stopped once again. Claws on one side, Sliders on the other. Jeers and hisses met them, mixed in with cries of triumph and encouragement. Lucky ignored the Claws completely, even as one lashed out and clawed a pawful of fur from his shoulder. Lucky didn't even blink at the cat, whom Lightfoot quickly taught a lesson.

Declan spied Viktor in the lines and nodded to him. The huge gray tabby fell in step beside Lucky, whispering into his ear—the one now marked with his first scar of battle. Declan thought he had never seen the two of them look so…close. Viktor had always kept his distance from Lucky in the Sliders but now it was like they understood each other, finally.

Declan narrowed his eyes against the onslaught of venomous words.

As soon as they passed, the battle began again, snapping back like an adder attack. Like a wave breaking, crashing, the sound of ripping fur in the air and the taste of blood on the wind.

The exit to the Warren was blocked by four Claw guards. Their heads were lowered in malice, marked eyes glittering. Other Sliders had gathered around Lucky by now—Pop and Lenny, Ink, his brothers, Iggy. Max and Marco were waiting by the side, their eyes alight, with Kent standing just above them on a machine paw. They flowed down off their perches, flying across the ground on quick paws, to fill in the space around their leader.

Lucky took to the front as the guards ducked further to the ground, pelts bristling. "I presume you are here to prevent me from leaving?"

The one in charge, a large and rather ugly red tom, growled, "That's right."

"I will have you ask you to step aside now. Or I will allow my friends here to do injury unto you."

They laughed even though they were clearly outnumbered. "Come and get it, then," the tom snarled.

Lucky leapt forward, Lightfoot outpacing him like a jolt of lightning. The guards fell back to the outside of the gate, surprising Declan, who had been aiming for the one with a limp flanking the red tom. On the outside, still wet from the continuing rain and slicked flat by battling, he realized a moment too late at how the tempting thought of battle had clouded their reason.

Standing outside by the fence was another, larger group of Claw guards. They fell upon the Sliders as if they were prey.

Declan screeched as teeth met in his ear, ripping back out of the grip of a sharp-clawed guard. Blindly, he struck out with his forepaws, hitting fur then flesh then bone as he applied pressure, sinking the guard down into the mud and using his superior body weight to hold him there. He sank his teeth into the enemy's throat, clenching his jaws and refusing to budge.

Claws stung his back, white-hot pain streaking down his spine, and he whirled to see the same ugly tom. His eyes, marked yellow and green, glittered in the dawn's light. "You Sliders will never learn!" he hissed, digging his claws deeper into Declan's back.

Wrenching his head free of the other's grasp, Declan turned on the red tom, bringing both forepaws down like stones on his head. The tom let out a grunt of surprise, his eyes momentarily losing their focus, but he shook it off, rolling his muscled shoulders and repositioning his paws.

"Second group, move in!" he shrieked and now Declan saw that the other guards had held back from the four original ones, despite Lucky's best efforts to tempt one into fighting.

That was when Declan realized he recognized the cat in the lead of the other group: Kaltag. Behind him spread the other cats with clear, angry eyes fixed right on the Claw guards. Judging from Kaltag's raised tail and Lightfoot's cackle of hard delight, these must have been the rest of the smoke-treated Claws, returned to their senses.

The golden tom was frowning, his mud pelt remaining only in sticky stripes along his face. "No," he said, his voice lacking the tremble Declan had heard before. "We're done helping the Claws!" He turned to the cats behind him, nearly a dozen, and he cried, "Come on! Fight for the Sliders!" He launched himself forward, aiming right for the red tom, and bowled him off his paws. The tom didn't even have a chance to screech in surprise before Kaltag's teeth were in his throat.

The others threaded through Lucky, pushing him back, protecting him with their bodies.

"Go!" Kaltag was suddenly in front of Declan, eyes wide. "Go now! The Rogue ran along the edge of the brook up towards the cliffs! Hurry before he escapes! We'll hold down the rest here! Go!"

"Thank you," Declan said breathlessly; Lucky was already off, leading the group away, but Twist stayed behind, though she took mincing steps in Lucky's direction, eyes on Declan. "I owe you for this, Kaltag."

Kaltag looked away, marked eyes lowered. "I'll owe you forever for helping me, Declan. Don't you worry about this little thing. I'll never repay you enough."

Declan didn't know what to say to that. Throat a little thick, he nodded and was off again.

"Those kinds of things come in handy, don't they?" Twist murmured.

Declan said nothing. He pushed his nose into her fur, soaking in her scent and feeling it strengthen his body.

The rain kept up a steady rhythm, falling into Declan's eyes as he ran, chest burning, muscles aching. All at once, the entirety of that day, of the moment since Twist was snatched by the Rogue's cats, fell onto his shoulders. He nearly buckled under its crushing weight. He was tired, so tired. He just wanted to lay down and sleep and sleep until he felt strong again, in control once more.

Though, as that fire—that infernal fire—burned in the back of his mind, clouding his tongue with the taste of smoke, he didn't believe he could ever be in control again.

Lucky was just ahead, his rain-darkened fur looking nearly black in the half-light. Viktor muscled just alongside him, strong as usual, with Lightfoot on the other side. In a way, Lightfoot reminded him remarkably of Sorrow—they had the same long, slender bodies, the same narrow heads and small, pointed ears. The same feral ferocity hidden just behind their beautiful faces. Lightfoot terrified him just as much as Sorrow did, perhaps more, since he had seen first-account what she could do with just her claws and fangs.

Lightfoot was the first to spot him. Letting out an ear-piercing yowl, she took off ahead, kicking up mud with her hind paws. Like a diving hawk, she ripped through the long, soaked grass, her paws catching every hold to push her forward, and tackled him.

Spinning end over end, Lightfoot and the Rogue snarled, battling, fighting, shredding, tearing. Declan could already smell the scent of blood as the rest of the group caught up to her.

"Lightfoot," Lucky said sternly, as if he was scolding a kit.

She sprang away at once, circling back behind Lucky, her suddenly-dark eyes not leaving the Rogue's ripped face; she had laid one side open to the bone, glinting wetly beneath a stark coating of blood.

His eye half-closed and his chest heaving, the Rogue said, "Well, if it is not Lucky. How have you been today? Are you enjoying the fight which you have caused?"

"I am, in fact," Lucky said casually. "I do take pleasure in this newfound loyalty to my group. I have found that only through protecting another can one feel completely satisfied with one's own life. Do you have a similar understanding?"

"No," the Rogue said gutturally.

"Such a shame." Now Lucky's cool dark eyes traveled over the Rogue's face thoughtfully. "You could have been such a good cat. Why would you waste such intellect as yours on a group of cats whom you have militarized? Why did you not allow them to speak their minds? Why did you lock them so deeply within themselves that they forgot everything it means to be a warrior?"

"Because," the Rogue growled. "It is better that I command their loyalty through fear than through any other means. Respect is what I should have as leader; it is not something that I should have to gain. I am their better. I should be the commander."

"That's why you had Braiser, is it?" Twist demanded.

The Rogue's face contorted unnaturally then. "I see that you learned the secrets of the Claws from that disgusting little insect Snit. He believed that it would be best to trust that knowledge to a pair of young fools? Do not worry about Braiser. You will never set eyes upon him."

"No one will," Declan said. "At least, not alive."

The Rogue's eyes widened, his lip twitching. "What is the meaning of such nonsense?"

"He's dead," Lightfoot said harshly. "I killed him. You should have seen him, how he begged for his life. How he swore to divulge more secrets if I allowed him to live. How he screamed when I killed him."

The Rogue's teeth were fully bared now. "I knew you were never fully mine. He believed otherwise. That is why I allowed you to remain. Filthy she-cat, I will make sure your fur litters the ground before anyone speaks another word to you."

"Is that the best that you have?" Lucky asked him.

The Rogue blinked. "What?"

"I only mean that the insult you just spoke was a little…uninspired. I would expect a much better retort from you. It appears your thirst for blood has addled your brains."

The Rogue looked incredulous. "What new development is this? Has your heart defrosted now, my brother?"

"I would not be calling me a brother if I were you," Lucky advised him. "I have come here to kill you, you must understand. I would have expected you to come and fight me yourself, as was your goal, but it appears now I put too much stock into your actions. You are a coward as much as your kits."

"Do not bring them into this."

"Then do not slight my cats in front of me. They are worth ten each of your kits." He puffed out his chest. "They have taught me the meaning of true loyalty this night. Before tonight, I did not know just how much they meant to me. The Sliders are a proud group, you see. We will not be easily beaten by you and your cats. We are not afraid of you."

Coiled on the ground, back arched and hackles raised, the Rogue spat, "You should be very afraid of us!"

"I do not believe I can feel fear for a group that takes orders from a mad mountain cat."

"And what of you and Wisp?" the Rogue hissed. "Is that not the same thing?"

"Perhaps it once was. But Wisp is no longer a part of the leadership of the Sliders."

Declan's mouth dropped open. When had that happened?

The Rogue looked similarly stunned. "You have cast her out of the Warren?"

"No. She remains, though her power is significantly limited as of now. We have spoken briefly of it. She is getting on in seasons regardless." Lucky sounded like he was choosing his words particularly, and Declan wondered just how much of that speech was true.

The Rogue seemed not to care. "And you somehow believe that makes you as good as I am?"

"Oh, I would not be so generous as to call you 'good,'" Lucky said seriously. "I would go more for 'dark and twisted evil most foul' if I was being honest. However, I can lie if you wish it. I am very good at it, much to my newfound shame. I understand that you are the same."

Teeth bared, the Rogue got to his paws slowly. "So this is how it is going to end?" he demanded, his voice a sharp rasp. "You are going to sic your group on me? Then come at me. I am not so afraid to fight. If I die, I will die fighting on my paws."

Lucky's eyes gleamed at that. "As honorable as your words are, you must know that I believe not a single word. You are a dirty coward. You will flee at the first mention of a fight."

"Then what do you suggest?" His lips twisted. "Or do you plan on talking me to death? I understand that that is your specialty."

"I suggest a simple fight—clean and fair." He stepped forward, tail curling over his back. "One-on-one. The winner gets command of both groups."

Viktor hissed in shock. "Lucky, are you insane?"

"Not the last time I checked, I believe. My mind is intact." His eyes didn't move from his brother's. "Are we agreed?"

The Rogue bared his teeth. "One-on-one? That is agreeable to me."

"So you accept the terms of my battle?"

"Yes," the Rogue growled.

"Well then." Lucky padded forward, leaving the rest of the group behind. "Stand back," he commanded them and Declan, a little to his own surprise, hurried to follow Lucky's orders. "No Slider is to interfere with this fight." He turned to his brother, dark eyes seeming blacker than usual. "On your word, my tragic, broken, former brother."

The Rogue walked stiffly forward, marked eyes radical in the dawn's light as they ever were. He licked his lips, fangs bared and glistening.

"Begin."


Guys, have you heard of Ingrid Michaelson? I don't generally like indie music but goooooooooosh, she's so good. -starry eyes-

Also, I won't be updating untiiiiiiiil...uhh, Monday. I'm going over to my grandma's again. So the chapters will be written, just not posted. I may write two or three while I'm over there if I get the chance. So look forward to that. X3

I love you guys. You totally rock.

Now I have to go to bed 'cause I have to get up at nine tomorrow. NINE. It's like my mother doesn't understand that I'm a white-bread-pale shut-in hopeful-authoress honing her craft. I can't wake up at nine! And go outside? MADNESS!

Not to mention this "heat dome" or whatever is making the outside hot like whoa. I took my dogs out and ran them around for like five minutes and I was sweating. It sucked, man. SUCKED.

Now that I'm done with my whining, have a good day. :D Er, night, I guess. Unless you're not an American, which I guess a lot of you guys aren't, judging by my story stats. That's pretty cool, I must say. XD

Anyway. For realz now.

You know what to do.

R&R~

Shadow