Hey people.

REVIEWS

"Nightbird1648"- Don't worry about it. I like sadness in stories too, I think it's a great way to develop character.

Jordan- I know *sniff* Painted was a fun character to mess with, I wish I'd been able to do her justice in my writing. Ah, well.

"Shadowhawk540-2"- That's a great idea ^^ But I have a feeling it won't happen. We can just imagine what happened on that patrol.

"White-flame1"- Well, she didn't have to die, I just chose her over Raven since I thought it would affect Scorch more if it was Painted. And I'm impressed you thought of that! But don't worry, Scorch always goes back for her friends.

Cat1234- Thank you! And I know, it's sad, but Painted was a character close to Scorch who had an unfinished goal, so her death would be sadder than anyone else except Scorch. I'm so glad you like my writing and can review now too!

Eaglefeather- I. Am. Honored. I wish I felt like I could deserve that praise, I'm always so afraid that I can't convey any emotion with my writing.

"Silverbreeze1543"- Yes! Someone who understands! The greatest, most affecting moments in stories is when it's sad and despairing ^^

"Trason"- Thank you very much! I wish I had given more time to their relationship, but I'm glad it came off well enough.

"Silverflame888"- I know! When I saw your review last chapter I was like, "She's going to hate me now!" I'm so sorry... For what it's worth, I didn't kill her just because you asked me not to, I had it planned since... chapter one?

Chapter 48: Solidarity

Scorch's paws skidded out from underneath her as she slipped down the short, slush-covered slope. Her breath was knocked from her chest as she hit the slimy earth with her paws splayed about her like a belly-flopped frog. She quickly pushed herself back to her paws and used her dirty paw to try and swipe the mud from her chest, smearing it instead. Scorch put her paw back to the ground, watching it tremble.

The black and red cat looked around. She was near the ShadowClan border now, her uninterrupted dash from the WindClan camp had taken her here swiftly. But for now, ThunderClan trees loomed all around her and the prickly undergrowth pressed in around her.

Taking a bound over a small fallen log, she could distantly see the clearing that interrupted the ThunderClan and ShadowClan border. Scorch had been told that it was an area much disputed over by the two Clans. To her, it seemed an awful lot of trouble over a patch of useless territory.

But it benefited her since it was a good land mark and was where Crowstar had said he'd meet her and Boulderpaw. I wonder if Boulderpaw already met up with him. She couldn't muster much concern for her friend, her heart was still numb from the shock and pain.

It was a slap in her face just thinking of Painted's torn and bloody body. I led her to that; guilt is a haunting menace. She shook herself, the WindClan cats were surely in the tunnels by now and they needed her to have ThunderClan's territory secure by the time they came out. She wouldn't allow any more lives to be lost today.

The fine drizzle clumped her fur as she ducked into the clearing, the sky gray and tumultuous. Shivering, she paused in the middle of the yellow-grassed clearing and looked up at the sky. The static in the air set her fur bristling and she prayed that there wouldn't be a thunderstorm. That was the last thing she needed.

Trembling, she continued to cross the clearing, relaxing as she entered the pines. The silence seemed to echo to the emptiness in her heart and the dirt-spotted snow reminded her of Painted's pelt. Stay focused! She darted along the familiar paths, drawing deep breaths to search for nearby Clan cats.

There! Scorch skidded around a wall of pines and spotted Crowstar, Flashpaw, Regin, even Mullen was there, his scratches swabbed with fresh cobwebs. She felt herself give a sigh of relief when she saw Boulderpaw's tired shoulders slumped among them.

Scorch froze, what would she say to them? What could she tell them? Heart in her mouth, she called out and they turned as one to stare at her. "Scorch!" Boulderpaw cried in relief and Flashpaw purred, rushing forward to touch noses with her.

"I'm so glad you're okay! Boulderpaw said that he lost you on WindClan territory and we feared the worst!" the black apprentice frantically searched her over for signs of injury. But all the blood on her pelt had come from Painted and the few scuffs from tumbling down hills blended in nicely with her rumpled fur.

Scorch dipped her head, embarrassed. But her heart twinged; Boulderpaw had left her, he hadn't lost her. Was he trying to hurt her even more? She tried to catch his gaze, but he avoided it, staring at his paws instead. She felt hollowness settle all over her again.

She turned to Crowstar, "We need to leave right away for ThunderClan," she mewed, carefully keeping the grief from her voice.

The black leader's eyes widened, his pelt rippling with surprise. "There's nothing we can do now," he mewed, "ThunderClan was defeated, Boulderpaw told me."

Scorch unsheathed and sheathed her claws, staring in tired frustration at the ground, "Yes, but the situation has changed. Our patrol that was sent to WindClan-"

"Was decimated," Crowstar broke in sadly, "Boulderpaw told me there were no survivors."

"Well, Boulderpaw was wrong!" Scorch snapped. "As far as I know, only two cats died. The rest are on their way to ThunderClan territory and we need to have Pinefur driven out before they get there!"

"What?!"Crowstar looked stunned.

"Is that true?" Regin growled, at Boulderpaw. The gray tom look terrified as the former rogue loomed over him, her lips drawn back in a snarl. He glanced at her helplessly, this time she was the one who refused to catch his eye.

"I-I only saw the battlefield and I found out that Pinefur had taken them captive. I thought he would have killed them," the gray apprentice explained himself.

"Then you should have told us that first!" Crowstar's eyes were narrowed to furious slits, "We never would have left a patrol in the paws of that monster!"

Boulderpaw crouched against the ground meekly and Scorch looked away. "If we go help ThunderClan, we'll still outnumber Pinefur's cats. We can drive him for good from ThunderClan and then later exterminate him from WindClan's territory," Scorch pressed. They needed to hurry or they wouldn't make it in time.

Crowstar shared a glance with Regin and then looked at Mullen. "We need to go back to camp and rest first. We've been on our paws since yesterday and we need to eat and talk with the Clan about this," the leader mewed calmly.

"There isn't time for that!" Scorch cried.

Crowstar turned his stern gaze on her, "We cannot fight a battle in this condition."

"But then the WindClan cats will show up and be easy pickings for Pinefur! They'll get caught all over again, And some cat will have to pay with their life," she growled.

"We won't be any help in this condition," Crowstar insisted. "Now come back with us and rest. You look horrible."

"I feel horrible!" Scorch hissed suddenly, a snarl etching onto her lips and her fur becoming more ruffled. "And I couldn't possibly rest!" she added angrily. Spitting, she turned around and raced over the wet snow. Pines flashed their shadow over her as she streaked past them.

This was a disaster! If ShadowClan and RiverClan didn't show up, how could she possibly drive Pinefur from ThunderClan's territory before WindClan got there? I could meet them at the tunnel and keep them there until the Clans got rid of Pinefur. But the longer WindClan was in the tunnels, the more chance of their discovery. And Pinefur's cats would have realized their disappearance by then. Plus she didn't know what Pinefur was doing to ThunderClan in the meantime. Was he murdering a cat at this very moment? She felt sick at the thought of Moonpaw's icy eyes glazed over and staring lifelessly our of a mangled body. Would more death be added to her conscience? She wasn't confident that she could take it.

Scorch skidded to a halt as she reached the clearing again. She needed to think. Closing her eyes, all she saw was Painted's body left abandoned behind her. Guilt shot through her. Was her friend's body being picked apart by buzzards right now? Had she no respect for her friend? She shook herself repeatedly, she wouldn't help the Clan by drowning in misery.

She stared down reproachfully at her paws; One red and one black. One black. Black. An idea sparked through her. Excitement spiraled through her and sent her tail twitching, it was the perfect plan! She needed a ready and capable battle force. What cats did she know of that were trained killers just sitting around willing to do anything for a meal? Nightwing's former Clan!

She turned her paws away from the lake and raced along the ShadowClan and ThunderClan scent line. She had doubts that the black cats would be as strong as she remembered from their poor diet. But hungry cats had a strength all in their own. And she was confident that she could convince them to help. I just hope Amelia isn't there.

Her brush with the murderess not too long ago had been a painful reminder that malicious cats were still prowling outside and inside the Clans borders. The rogue border came into sight and she crossed it without hesitation. The three-share border was a place she'd often been, so she knew the area extremely well and headed confidently in her chosen direction.

The snow had been turned to slush by the drizzle and mud splattered onto her already mud-crusted fur. Ducking beneath a dripping bush, she nearly ran right into a wall of black fur.

"Hey! Watch where you-" the cat's growl was broken off and Scorch recognized the black tom. Shade, Storm's mate and the father of Fling and Swish. "Scorch!" The tom dropped the puny mouse he'd been carrying and looked at her with wide eyes. "How is Storm? Is she safe? And the kits! Are they alright?!"

He bombarded her with questions and his anxious caring befuddled her grieving mind. "They-they're fine," she stuttered. "The kits are growing nicely and they're always playing. Storm misses you, of course, but she's made friends with the other queens," she assured him.

The tom took a step back and let out a relieved sigh, giving his chest fur a few embarrassed licks but clearly glad to hear his family was doing well. "Thank you, but, I don't suppose you came all the way out here to tell me that, did you?" he asked, gray eyes looking over her warmly at first and then anxiously. "You look awful!" he exclaimed.

Scorch dipped her head, "I've been told before. Could you take me to your camp? It's really important," she mewed, glad that at least one cat would be willing to help her. And if she promised to get him back with his family, she was sure Shade would jump in to help.

Shade regarded her in silence for a moment and then dipped his head, "If you wish. Most of the cats are there now, but I can't promise that they'll be happy to see you." He picked up his mouse that was now covered in mud and flicked his tail, signaling for her to follow him.

Scorch padded at his paws, recognizing the path as the one she'd taken last time while shadowing the two black cats. The camp looked unchanged as they emerged from the pines, except that this time there was a few pieces of prey in the hole for fresh-kill. The change of weather had already affected the levels of prey in the forest.

But the camp had no cover and rain flowed freely down without any screen. The cats were huddled at the outskirts of the camp, snuggling at the bases of trees together for warmth. Scorch thought they looked like miserable rabbits caught out in the rain.

With a quick glance, she saw that all their poorly made dens were puddled in water. So they were forced from their nests. They really can't remain together for much longer anyways. Scorch walked into the middle of the clearing with a nod at Shade, who stayed in the cover of the trees to pick at his mouse.

Scorch lifted her head to the rain, ignoring the drops splattering against her eyes. She could feel the gazes of the cats on her and the sense she perceived was curious wariness. She feared they wouldn't be as willing to help as she'd hoped. "I need your help," she mewed loudly.

A startled murmur rippled around her and told her that wasn't what they had expected to hear. "You are probably familiar with the name Pinefur," she waited for whispers of assent before continuing. "I am trying to help ThunderClan and WindClan drive him out. However, ShadowClan and RiverClan can't come quick enough and Pinefur will be busy murdering innocents before they are ready."

"Why should we help the Clans?!" a cat yowled. Scorch turned and recognized Wing. The small black she-cat looked even more ragged and thin than last time. "They drove us out and turned us into this!" Wing nodded around at the poor conditions around her.

"That was ShadowClan and RiverClan. We are talking about helping ThunderClan and WindClan," Scorch answered her calmly.

"That's right, they haven't done anything for us either! And you were the one who got ShadowClan and RiverClan to turn against us in the first place. If you'd never come to the lake this never would have happened!" Wing hissed, her brown eyes glaring through the rain.

"If you cats hadn't come to the lake, Nightwing and Pinefur both would never have even gotten to a position of power," Scorch reminded her icily. "And as I understand it, Nightwing hated Pinefur, so you would have fought him if he were still alive."

"But then we would have had a reason to fight. Why should we go risk our lives for you? And don't give me any Warrior nonsense," Wing scowled.

"I would never ask you to fight for nothing," Scorch murmured. She jerked her head up firmly, the leaders would just have to go along with her. "Any cat who fights will be allowed to live with the Clans; They will have to work, yes, but they will have food to eat and a safe den to sleep in," Scorch promised.

Mews echoed up around her, happy and optimistic. She had been right, they were willing and ready to do anything for food and a good nest. But Wing scowled again, "You promised something like that to our cats before, but only a few were given it, how can we trust your word now?"

Scorch could feel her emotions churning, she was spending too much time arguing with this stubborn she-cat. "If you all come," she hissed, startling the cats with her sudden change of tone, "They won't have any choice but to agree to it! And with so many cats already dead, I'm sure they can suck up their pride and allow you to live with them for a few moons at least," she mewed through clenched teeth. Her claws dug into the muddy ground and her shoulders shook in withheld tension.

"I'll come," a cat spoke up, stepping forward. Scorch recognized her as the first cat she'd faced moons ago, a small she-cat named Slate. More cats echoed the promise and they padded forward around her. Scorch was shocked, every cat in the clearing had gathered around her. Only Wing stood on the edge, disconcerted.

"I guess you couldn't be convinced to come," Scorch asked the she-cat.

Wing looked away, but her brown eyes shone with loneliness. "No, I'll come," the she-cat growled. "Just so that I can sleep a night out of the cold. But I'm leaving when it gets warm," Wing declared.

Scorch nodded and twitched her tail, the Clan cats will probably prefer it that way. Scorch turned, the cats on her tail. Shade slipped in besides her as they left the clearing, "Do you think," he murmured in her ear, "That I can get into the same Clan as Storm?"

Scorch shrugged, keeping her gaze fixed on the distant trees, "If not, I'm sure they could join you in ThunderClan or WindClan," she answered. Shade purred and curled his tail over his back.

"So you're all marching to the sound of the Clans orders now? How far you've fallen," a voice sneered. Every hair on Scorch's pelt prickled and bloody images flashed in her mind, reminding her aching heart of Painted.

"Amelia," she mewed, pausing and looking up into the bunched branches of a spruce tree. Amelia's black pelt bushed dry and fluffy within the haven of the thick needled branches.

The cats around her stiffened and a few backed away from her. Scorch didn't take her eyes of Amelia and the she-cat did likewise. "I hope you don't mind," Scorch mewed in a voice like flint.

"Of course not, they're not my cats after all. I'd just hoped they had a little more loyalty," the she-cat's scathing amber eyes flitted over the drawn black faces

"I could say the same to you," Scorch sniffed. "You seem to be in a much better condition then your Clan-mates," she added pointedly.

The she-cat scoffed, "They were never on my level." A few cats growled at that, but no one spoke outright.

"We will be leaving now," Scorch mewed, turning her back on the murderess but keeping her ears pricked in case the cat made a move.

"Good luck!" Amelia called after them, "And Scorch, I heard about your dear Painted. Despair is such a bitter taste, isn't it?"

Scorch's heart beat out of her chest, but she forced herself to keep walking at the same, steady pace with her wide gaze fixed on her paws that moved involuntarily. Her breath trembled and her lips curled. How was it even possible for Amelia to have heard about that? Her fur had been dry and she would have had to run from territory to territory as fast as Scorch had.

She peeked nervously over her shoulder, was Amelia a ghost of some sort? "Hey, Scorch, what do you need us to do, exactly?" Shade asked, nudging her from her illusions.

"Oh, yes, of course," Scorch dipped her head apologetically, walking faster through the dripping forest toward the ThunderClan border. "From what I know, the ThunderClan cats are currently being held captive in their own camp where Pinefur is. We need to help them drive out Pinefur before WindClan arrives; whom I helped evacuate from their camp not too long ago," Scorch explained.

"All right, but why are they being held captive?" Wing asked.

Scorch flicked her tail, "We were attempting to revolt against Pinefur but he found out about the plan and we walked right into a trap. Now we need to finish what we began before he does," she growled.

Shade flicked his tail, "If he knows about the plan, does he know about this?" he asked, glancing around as if expecting cats to ambush them from the shadows.

"No," Scorch lifted her head, stepping across the border into ThunderClan territory. "No cat knows about this except us."

"And Amelia," a cat growled, his brown eyes glanced suspiciously over his shoulder.

"Relax, Jet," Soot mewed from beside the ruffled tom. "She may not be friendly, but she wouldn't betray us to Pinefur, she hated him as much as her father did."

Scorch nodded, her paw pads prickling as she hoped Soot was right. She signaled for silence and started sliding off the main paths, sliding along the muddy ditches where the rain water flowed down to form murky pools. They followed her silently and swiftly; Scorch was confident they would not disappoint her in battle.

She felt a sudden surge of strength with such a capable group of cats following her commands. For a moment she understood the insatiable thirst for power that must posses Pinefur. But that highness and picture of glory in battle was crushed as her memory cowered with the image of Painted. Would the picture ever cease to haunt her?

"That's the camp, up ahead," she hissed over her shoulder at the cats following her. She could see the brown gorse barrier between the damp trees. "Half of you circle around to the entrance and I'll take the other half in through the back entrance. Enter only after you've heard my signal," Scorch whispered, moving around to the dirtplace entrance. The cats behind her parted like water, they didn't even need a cat to organize them, half followed her and half turned toward the main entrance. We can do this!

Her heart pounded, throbbing in her paws as she crept over the cold slimy leaves and slipped through the tear in the dirtplace barrier. The cats followed her quickly and were on her tail as she cautiously prowled through the tunnel on light paws. The wretched smell of the place didn't even bother her this time, she was too focused on what was going on in the clearing.

Crouching low to the ground, she slid into a position where she could look out into the clearing. Silver rain misted the clearing and veiled the figures that milled about. But Scorch spotted Pinefur's copper-brown pelt instantly, his green eyes glaring through the mist as he growled and grumbled. The ThunderClan cats cowered in front of him, trapped between him and the cliff face, the entrance guarded by two solemnly erect figures.

Scorch could see Moonpaw pressed in the middle of the sea of cats. The Clan cats were clearly not going to give the apprentice up to Pinefur's punishment easily. Scorch pressed her belly to the wet ground, eyes flicking around. Guards, lots of guards. They stood on the edge of the clearing in the shelter of dens, watching Pinefur verbally berate the Clan cats into giving up the initiator.

She could see impatience etched into ever muscle in Pinefur's pelt, he'd kill some cat soon if not the right one. Time to act. With a quick nod over her shoulder at the cats behind her she stood up, suddenly wondering if she could trust the black cats to go into battle behind her, doubt freezing her for a moment. They came this far, I'm sure it isn't for nothing. Shaking the last doubt from her mind, she let out an ear-splitting caterwaul and pounded into the clearing.

The black cats behind her echoed her cry and fanned out behind her, meeting the startled guards with pulled back fangs and unsheathed claws. Chaos erupted as Pinefur's cats who had turned to meet her patrol were jumped on from behind by the other half of the force she had brought, becoming pinned helplessly between the two forces.

Scorch dodged beneath the claws of a bright golden she-cat and sprinted over to the stunned ThunderClan cats. They would need ThunderClan's help to beat Pinefur. "Come on!" she called to them, slipping to a stop in front of them. "If you don't help, we won't win!" she encouraged as the cats got to their paws slowly- paws shaking and eyes shocked.

Hope sparkled as the ginger tom Sunstorm moved to the front, nodding at her before launching into battle. A stream of cats followed him, whisking past her. She heaved a deep breath, exhilarated by the wind they stirred up around her. Only Moonpaw and Gorsepaw remained where ThunderClan had been cowering a few moments before.

Gorsepaw looked at the cats tearing at each other with wide eyes. Moonpaw nudged him gently, her injuries making her wince at the slight movement. Scorch met Moonpaw's gaze proudly. She had promised to help, and now she had.

Moonpaw's ice blue eyes were hazy with gratitude. Scorch had never seen a cat look so grateful, and especially not Moonpaw. The stormy gray apprentice raced into battle with the timid Gorsepaw at her tail. Scorch turned to join them, inspired by their courage, leaping onto the back of a nearby tortoiseshell she-cat who was holding a small black ThunderClan she-cat beneath her and tearing at the victim's fur.

Scorch recognized the helpless cat as Gorsepaw's sister, Ravenpaw, as she bit into the ear of the tortoiseshell rogue. Curling her claws into the ruffled pelt beneath her paws, Scorch felt the tortoiseshell bend her back as she prepared to roll.

Tearing a last pawful of fur from the tortoiseshell's back, Scorch leaped for the ground hitting it with enough force to stun her mismatched paws as the tortoiseshell fell onto her back. Luckily Ravenpaw was already in position and leaped at her opponent's exposed white belly.

Scorch left the apprentice to finish the she-cat. The rage of war rushed in and away from her like a breath she drew in and out. Her heart pulsed, her gaze flashed. Images came and went, like glimmers of moonlight on the rippling lake.

"Scorch!" a warning yowl interrupted her dazed thoughts and she looked up in time to be tackled to the ground by a white tom with gold tabby stripes. Claws tore at her skin as she hit the cold, muddy floor of the hollow. She was rolled onto her back and found her front forepaws pinned to her chest by the tom's wide forepaws.

His rain-soaked fur clung to his rippling muscles and his ears were pinned to his head. A growl echoed from him as he opened his mouth in a snarl, showing his long white fangs. Scorch huffed, her heart fluttering like a trapped bird in her panic.

Heaving at her forepaws, she couldn't budge them and her attempts to roll over or heave him off were futile against his greater weight. The tom's blue eyes glimmered darkly down at her and she saw him bending his neck for her throat. Not again! Panic paralyzed her as she remembered the bursting pain when Nightwing's claws sliced open her throat.

"Not today!" the screech echoed above her head like a crack of thunder. Shaking from her stupor, Scorch saw a flash of gray explode into the tom above her and wrench him to the ground beside her. She rolled away to avoid being crushed by them and- with a gasp of amazement- realized with glee that it was Boulderpaw who had come to her rescue.

He swiped at the tabby's head and ducked for his paws, knocking him onto his side and rolling him onto his back. The tabby tom tried to bite Boulderpaw's paws but the apprentice growled and swiped his claws over the cat's nose. The apprentice finished the fight with a few fierce bites to the shoulders and practically shoved the stumbling tom out of the clearing.

Looking around her, shapes and washed away colors blurred as more and more cats from RiverClan, ThunderClan, and WindClan stampeded into the clearing, overwhelming Pinefur's force. It seemed that only a few moments later Pinefur's cats were cowering and turning tail, desperately pushing through the Clan cats to escape the claws and fangs.

Scorch's gaze lighted upon the last enemy cat to leave; Pinefur. The tyrant lifted himself up to full height and sent a malignant green glare across the clearing that would make even the strongest warrior shiver. "Don't think this is over, fools," he snarled. "This is just beginning and you've already dug your grave." The four Clans didn't even twitch a whisker at the threat. With a flick of his copper-brown tail, Pinefur disappeared into the drizzling woods.

Silence hushed upon the Clan cats. They shared glances of surprise, had they won so easily? It took Scorch only a moment to flash a wide smile and cheers erupted in a roar of victory. The ground seemed to clamor beneath her in excitement and Boulderpaw slipped to her side as she backed away from the jubilation.

"Are you okay?" he whispered anxiously, curling his tail around her neck in a gesture of kindness.

Scorch looked at him, using her paw to flick a bit of blood from his muzzle. "Yeah," she whispered hoarsely, managing a weak smile of assurance. "I don't think I've ever been so happy to see you before."

Boulderpaw purred and nudged her, "Sorry I was late, you had a brilliant plan. We never would have made it

in time if you hadn't rounded up Nightwing's cats," he admitted, ducking his head to avoid her gaze.

Scorch purred, "I'm surprised you managed to get practically every RiverClan and ShadowClan cat to help, and then you also brought WindClan!" she looked around the Clan filled hollow. Familiar faces mingled with new ones and she found that happiness was a picture. It was magnificent to see all four Clans standing together first in battle and now in victory.

Boulderpaw looked back up at her, "We ran into them on the way over. Only a few were fit to come help, but the rest should arrive any moment now," he purred. "And it wasn't difficult to convince so many cats to come from the ShadowClan camp. Once they heard you were out on your own trying to help, they all lined up. Only the queens, Thistlebranch, and Mullen stayed behind."

Scorch pricked her ears, "Sunstar came?" she asked, looking around. With so many cats and the rainy light it was hard to see very well.

"Yes, he's here," Boulderpaw grunted, "He may not be the most involved cat, but even he knows when it's time to put in a commitment," he mewed grudgingly.

Scorch sighed, leaning into his warm fur and realizing how cold and dirty she was. "Sorry," she murmured.

Boulderpaw shifted his paws, "What for?"

"I know every cat is celebrating," she waved her tail at the cats who were still laughing and crying together. "But there's something I need your help with..."

"We're here," Scorch mewed, stopping. The wet grass brushed her legs and the wind slapped rain across her face. As night encroached upon the sky again, the rain grew heavier but the breeze that rolled it along was warm and wet, taking the sting from the downpour but increasing the electrostatic feeling.

Her harrowing gaze stared heavily down upon the sodden lump of fur laying on the ground in front of her. "Do you want to do it back in ThunderClan territory? Pinefur returned to the WindClan camp and we don't want to get caught here."

Scorch shook her head, "I have a different place in mind, but it'll take a while to get there. Help me carry her, please," she mewed in a tight voice. With Boulderpaw she put her shoulder underneath Painted's stiff body. The corpse was cold and hard, drenched with the scent of death. Her friend was cold and Scorch stumbled under the weight but refused to allow Boulderpaw to see her weak condition.

Between them, they set off across the moor, heading for the lake shore. The rain misted off the lake, spraying them in the face. Scorch didn't even twitch an ear at it, her thoughts were as heavy and still as Painted's lifeless body. But I can do this last service for you, Painted.

They turned off the shore and headed into ShadowClan's pines, passing very near the camp where the recently returned warriors were imparting good news to the few who had remained behind. But the two passed by without stopping.

Scorch felt a prickle of guilt, perhaps she should have grabbed Raven, Mira, and Jump to help bury Painted. But Mira was heavy with kits while Raven and Jump had both been on their paws quite a bit today. They could see the grave later.

Night descended slowly, sunset turning the light a deeper shade of gray with every passing minute. Scorch trudged through the slushy snow, gaze fixed on the mesmerizing gray. They crossed the border into rogue territory in silence and Scorch was grateful that Boulderpaw didn't try to distract her from her mourning thoughts; he simply allowed her silence to grieve.

Scorch lifted her nose, navigating the half-familiar territory carefully. She hoped she remembered how to get there, as she'd only been there twice and had always approached from a different direction. But there it was, the little rise that stretched free of the tangled undergrowth and the shadow of the pines.

Veiled moonlight glowed gray on the pale grass and the juniper bush arched as a thick wall against the wind and rain. The little spring pooled gently in the sandy stream, the raindrops sending ripples arching across its snow-melt swelled surface.

"This is a very peaceful place," Boulderpaw mewed gently.

Scorch nodded, letting Painted slide from her shoulders onto the ground. "This is where Painted once lived with her family. I wish I could take her to where her family is buried, but that's too far to travel. This will have to do," she mewed quietly. Walking to the place Painted had showed her the den had once stood, she pushed her paws into the cold ground, pawing and digging at the cold, damp dirt.

Boulderpaw came to her side and together they scrapped a bigger and deeper hole so that Painted would be protected from the elements and predators. Scorch sat back from the hole, panting as rain trickled down her fur. She looked up at the dark sky, blinking as the invisible raindrops splattered into her eyes. "Let's lay her to rest," Boulderpaw encouraged softly.

Scorch nodded, "Okay," she sniffed, hoping it was just rain that was trickling down her cheeks. With Boulderpaw's help, she shifted Painted's body into the hole. The rain pattered off Painted's stiff fur mercilessly and the she-cat was curled as if she were just asleep. No breath stirred her whiskers and Scorch knew that it was wishful thinking that Painted would ever utter a breath again.

Boulderpaw helped her kick the dirt back over Painted's body. Scorch turned, the pile of churned up dirt the only proof that Painted was buried beneath and she patted the dirt gently. "Maybe we should have taken her back to camp for cats to sit vigil," she whispered, staring blankly at the only thing left of Painted.

Boulderpaw pressed against her, "No, not many cats knew her and she wasn't a Clan cat."

"That doesn't mean she deserved any less respect," Scorch murmured miserably.

"No, she didn't," Boulderpaw conceded, his warm breath tickling her ear, "But I think she would have rather been laid to rest without a lot of noise. She seemed like that kind of cat."

Scorch nodded slowly, tears drowning her gaze as her throat tightened with heat. "Yeah."

They sat together, staring at the grave as the rain poured down. "I hope you find your family again," Scorch whispered.

Perhaps it was the rain, perhaps it was her exhaustion, but Scorch could have sworn that she saw in the night mist four cats standing in front of her. Two small cats, a brown tom and a white tom, stood between a tall dark brown tabby tom and an all too familiar cream she-cat with spotted fur and glowing green eyes. Painted and her family.

Bittersweet emotion filled her. It evaporated as a flash of searing light outlined her shadow against the juniper bush and was immediately followed by a cascade of thunder. It trembled the ground and she cowered beneath it. Boulderpaw crouched beside her and lapped at her ears soothingly; she stubbornly refused to leave the grave as thunder pealed throughout the night, she would face her fear for Painted's sake.

Scorch stayed there and withstood thunder and lighting, waiting out Painted's last night in solidarity with the spirit of the Clans. But she wasn't afraid to accept Boulderpaw's soothing support during the longest night of her life.

...

Ah, bittersweet ending. Painted is reunited with her family but she'll never come back. Scorch is lucky, she did get to come back. The best thing about writing is the ability to bend the rules of reality to your very whim! But now that Pinefur's half-beaten, what's to come next? I know what's going to happen, but I need to hammer out how everything is going to happen- but that's my favorite thing to do ^^

I'm kind of disappointed in myself that I never really created a villain that was super interesting. Nightwing and Amelia were alright, but Pinefur, he's that little nuisance that's there merely for plot convenience. I should change that, but so late in the story it's going to be tough... I'll brainstorm when I take a shower later.

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