Holy shit nuggets, 900 something reviews?! WHAT?! Guys, guys, you gotta help me...I'm dying...OF HAPPINESS! LIKE HOLY FUDGE! I haven't updated this in forever so like I hope you still exist...I would be totally amazeballs to see the number "1000" flash on my screen. BUT THIS IS SO GREAT BECAUSE IT MEANS Y'ALL ACTUALLY LIKE MY WRITING! GRAND SLAM TOUCHDOWN THREEPOINTER SLAPSHOT RIGHT IN THE GOAL! btw here's the next chapter.

"You're chipper," Bouncestrike remarked pleasantly, curiously even, as Whitefang dug into her breakfast.

"I'd expect you to be the chipper one," Whitefang replied, her mouth full of fresh red meat, and she chewed as she watched the smile bloom into being on the black tom's face. Cherrynose had kitted late last night, while Whitefang was sleeping, blue eyes dancing in her mind as her dreams replayed her encounters with Falconshade over and over. She never knew it was possible to love someone so much, to have your heart burn and yearn for them as if you would never see them again. But Bouncestrike knew it, and now he had three more little lives to burn for. Honeykit, Sorrelkit, and Aspenkit were absolutely precious. Bouncestrike had woken Whitefang the instant labor began, and the warrior stumbled into the nursery, half-asleep, beside her friend to greet the kits. Honeykit, named for her lost aunt, was a pretty little tortoiseshell with golden dapples. Sorrelkit was a black tom like his father, while Aspenkit was a mottled black and brown tom, his face nearly identical to the round one of his mother. Cherrynose and Bouncestrike adored them, and of course Featherfall and Hollowstar doted upon their first grandkits. Pinekit and Rosekit were just pleased they had new denmates to play with, eventually.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Bouncestrike sighed.

"Yes," Whitefang nodded, leaning down to take another bite, visions of dark ginger fur dancing in her mind. How she wished it could be night all day!

"But you dodged me, Whitefang. You're looking far happier than usual." Bouncestrike said teasingly. She rolled her eyes and swallowed.

"Oh, am I not allowed to be happy?" She asked.

"Of course you are!" He replied, affronted, "But everyone has a reason."

"Maybe it's the weather. Or this vole. Or the kits. Or the fact that I get to see whether or not my apprentice passes his exams tomorrow. You never know!" Whitefang exclaimed with a grin. Only I know.

"Alright, alright." Bouncestrike laughed.

"Oh, look! Sounds like your children are up." Whitefang said, cringing as squeaky whines came from the nursery, and Rosekit and Pinekit tumbled out in a hurry.

"They're hungry," Rosekit squeaked to Bouncestrike, "And they're really loud! Could you make them be quiet?"

"Yeah, or tell them to grow faster! We wanna play attack of the badgers!" Pinekit complained as the wails grew louder.

"Aw, fer cryin' out loud!" Rosekit grumbled as a high-pitched screech pierced the air.

"Literally!" Pinekit agreed, wrinkling his nose.

"Let's go to the elder's den, Pinekit. At least it's quiet over!" Rosekit mewed, and the two skittered of to where Jumpfire's curious face peeked out of the den.

"I should probably go take Cherrynose something to eat, and then help with the kits…" Bouncestrike mumbled, getting to his paws and padding quickly away toward the freshkill pile.

"Hope you're successful," Whitefang said, getting up as well. She made her way over to the apprentice den, where Stormpaw and Fadingpaw were grooming themselves irritably.

"Whitefang, can you make those kits shut up?" Fadingpaw complained.

"No, but we can go out on patrol." The white warrior offered. The 'paws sprang up.

"Anything to get out of here!" Stormpaw meowed eagerly.

"I'll go get Timbermask." Fadingpaw said, dashing away.

"Hey Whitefang, could we practice scenting while we're out? I want to make sure I've got everything down for tomorrow." Stormpaw mewed.

"Of course," she purred, "But I'm sure you'll do fine."

"I just want to be as prepared as possible." Stormpaw said with a smile.

"Let's go!" Fadingpaw called from the entrance to camp, where her tall pale tabby mentor stood, waiting.

"We're coming, hold on!" Stormpaw yowled back.

"There's enough noise in the camp without you two screaming at each other!" Icegaze, their father, growled.

"Sorry, Dad." Stormpaw mewed abashedly. Icegaze shot Whitefang a look and padded away. The warrior wasn't bothered. It was only a few cats who didn't approve of her now, cats stuck in their ways or just cats who were naturally irritable. Icegaze, Lostwind, and Grayshadow. She couldn't see what their problem was. Even Blueshine didn't look at her as if she were a pile of dog dung anymore, and Paledove…she didn't even know, or really care, what her mother was up to now. Actually, that was a lie. She did care. She cared a whole lot more than she wished to. All her life her mother had never been a mother. Maybe, now that everything was getting better, Paledove would open her eyes…? Whitefang could never be too hopeful.

"Don't listen to him. He's always a grump. He's been a grump ever since I was a kit. Don't worry about it." Whitefang whispered to Stormpaw.

"But Whitefang, he's my father!" Stormpaw protested.

"I know. And he does love you; I know that. But some cats are just naturally in sour moods a lot. That's what I meant." She replied.

"Oh. Oh, alright." Stormpaw sighed.

"Shall we?" Whitefang asked, gesturing to where Timbermask and Fadingpaw waited impatiently.

"Yep!" Stormpaw grinned. The wails were growing even louder. Whitefang, Timbermask, and the apprentices hurried out of camp.


"Honestly, I'll never have kits!" Fadingpaw grumbled as the foursome set out on their patrol.

"They make so much noise, but they're really cute." Stormpaw pointed out.

"Cute, whatever. They're annoying." Fadingpaw snapped.

"I love kits," Timbermask meowed, gazing out over the border and onto the wide expanse of forest that is Thunderclan territory, "I've always wanted to be a father." The tabby glanced at Whitefang, who shook her head minutely. Dejected, Timbermask padded onward in silence.

"Fadingpaw, when I was your age I didn't want kits either. As you get older, though, they do seem more of a blessing than a curse." Whitefang pointed out, sniffing the border delicately. The strong scent of Thunderclan invaded her nose, and she coughed.

"These are fresh," She gagged. It smelt of rustling oak leaves and badger musk, with rotting logs and squirrel droppings. Glancing up at her friends, she notices the other three smell it too. Fadingpaw wrinkled her nose.

"Could we patrol somewhere else after remarking these borders? I mean, even Riverclan doesn't stink this bad." The gradient gray apprentice muttered.

"Then we'll patrol the Riverclan border, and toss you in the stream. Then you'll see how you like the smell," Timbermask scolded his apprentice, "Warriors aren't supposed to complain this much, Fadingpaw. If I didn't know any better, I'd assume your warrior ceremony was in a moon, instead of a day!"

"Sorry, Timbermask." She mumbled as her brother snuck away from his sister and her disappointed mentor to mark the border. Whitefang sighed.

"Timbermask, even warriors complain sometimes. Let Fadingpaw vent some her frustrations. It's been a long night for everyone, those kits are very loud." She mewed offhandedly, remarking the border as well. Timbermask narrowed his emerald eyes.

"Just because you don't get enough beauty sleep doesn't give you a free pass to whine like a badger cub." He growled.

"And you would know!" Whitefang retorted, her patience wearing thin.

"And I would-now see here Whitefang, I'm not the one who whines! If anyone, it's you, with all those moons of sulking around!" Timbermask hissed. Whitefang's golden eyes glowed furiously.

"Sulking?! Sulking! I had so many reasons to sulk, if I listed them all, it would make your tail curl!" Whitefang snarled.

"Oh, yeah? Try me!" Timbermask rumbled, taking a step towards her.

"My mother neglected me," Whitefang hissed, looking him square in the eye as she slowly walked closer, "My Clan thought I was nothing, my denmates tortured me," Timbermask twitched slightly as she said the last one, "and my best friend, my only friend was chased off with blood on his pelt!" She snarled.

"Whitefang, Whitefang please-" Timbermask began, eyes widening frightfully.

"Then my sister lost her kits, and was murdered! Murdered right in front of me!" Whitefang howled, "And my clanmates didn't give a damn about me!"

"Whitefang, please-" Timbermask begged, stumbling backwards.

"My mother still rejected me, and now my best friend's father is dying. My Thunderclan friend hates me. I can't keep my promises," Whitefang choked back a sob, "and now everything is like a dream until you, you say you love me! Do I love you? No! And you can't even try to be friends, and now you've crossed the line! Get away from me!" Whitefang yowled, running off through the forest. Behind her, she heard frantic cries.

"Whitefang!" Fadingpaw called.

"Whitefang, come back!" Stormpaw yowled. But she kept running. She knew where she was going, too.

"Falconshade?" Whitefang whispered, tears streaming down her face, not drying in the cool Leaffall air.

"I heard something, Rushsong!" A small, squeaky voice sounded from a little further among the reeds. Startled, Whitefang ducked behind the nearby thistles. They stabbed at her skin through her thick pelt and lodged themselves in her matted tangles, but the thick, sweet scent of thistle blossoms covered her own.

"You heard something? Sure. You're, like, deafer than Stonebelly!" Another squeaky voice chimed in. A deeper one laughed.

"Now, now. Swallowpaw is not deaf. Be nicer to your brother, Mallowpaw!" It said.

"Yes. Now, Swallowpaw, what did you hear?" A soft voice, undoubtedly Rushsong, asked. The young tom replied.

"It sounded like pawsteps, and a voice!" He mewed quickly.

"Sure it did." The voice, now she knew it as Mallowpaw's, teased.

"Mallowpaw," the deepest voice meowed sternly.

"Alright, alright. Maybe he did hear something." Mallowpaw muttered.

"We are very close to the Shadowclan border. It's quite possible you heard a Shadowclan cat." Rushsong mewed, "Now, why don't you two run along up there, and we'll catch up in a moment.

"Okay! Falconshade, do you wanna come with us? You could show us where the border is!" Swallowpaw squealed.

"Yeah! You patrol it everyday!" Mallowpaw added.

"Okay, I will." A familiar voice sighed in a faux-annoyed way. Whitefang smiled when she heard his voice. She peered through the tiny gaps in the thistle bush for a glimpse of Falconshade. Finally, after agonizing moments of waiting, a dark ginger tabby pelt appeared in the reeds, accompanied by two small, identical caramel-brown she-cats. Both had wide amber eyes, yet one had a white paw.

"Wow, it sure looks dark in there!" The one with the white paw, Mallowpaw, said.

"Yeah…" Swallowpaw agreed, looking wary.

"Well, this is it," Falconshade chuckled, looking out over the border. Whitefang anted to lose herself in his eyes, wrap herself in his pelt, but instead she held her breath. Rushsong and a slender pale gray tom padded out of the reeds. Rushsong was…Whitefang's eyes widened. She was the same caramel-brown color of the two apprentices, with a white splash on her chest. Though…her eyes were gold, not amber. She wondered who the father was. The pale gray tabby tom was…nothing much to look at, really. She supposed he could be cute. As the pair of mentors drew closer, she noticed his eyes were only one shade removed from Falconshade's. Though their appearances couldn't be more different, her mate being large and sturdily built, with dark ginger tabby fur and his soft, Greenleaf-sky blue eyes and this tom being slender and a pale gray tabby, with a long tale and wide paws. But his eyes, though they were slightly darker, held her gaze the same way. There was something about them…The pale gray tom stood beside Falconshade, and Whitefang noticed something. The shape of their heads, the width of their shoulders, and the square-ness of their jaws were so similar. She decided they had to be brothers. She would ask him tonight. The apprentices frolicked about the border, pausing to sniff and wrinkly their noses here and there.

"What do you smell, Swallowpaw?" Rushsong asked gently.

"I smell…rotting wood. And toadstools, and old moss. I smell pine sap and slimy frogs and squirrel dung." Swallowpaw mewed, eyes closed as she pressed her face into the breeze.

"I smell all that too! And…thistle blossoms." Mallowpaw agreed.

"Very good! Now, let's see what an experienced warrior can smell. Falconshade?" The pale gray tabby offered. Falconshade grinned, and sniffed once, delicately, with the berry-pink nose Whitefang had grown to think was adorable.

"Alright then, Waverunner. I smell rotting logs, oak and birch. I smell toadstools clinging to the peeling bark of and old cedar tree, near a patch of late-blooming lilies. There's a tangy scent of fresh pinesap on the paws of a squirrel, and two frogs hidden among ivy leaves. I smell thistle blossoms, and in those thistle blossoms, there's a sort of spicy, wild-" The ginger tom stopped there, blue eyes widening. He stared hard into the thistle bush, and Whitefang bit her tongue anxiously. But after a moment, he turned away.

"How was that, oh wise one?" Falconshade grinned, turning to Waverunner.

"You, sir, are the definition of class." Waverunner snickered, "But see, young'uns? You'll be able to do that be the time your assessments have rolled around. But that won't be for a long time yet!"

"Shall we make our way over to the Windclan border?" Rushsong purred.

"Oh, yes! Yes!" The apprentices cheered eagerly. The foursome began to walk away.

"Falconshade? You coming?" Waverunner called over his shoulder, long gray tail flicking.

"Oh, sorry, just caught a pebble in my pad. I'll be a moment." The ginger tom replied, leaning over to inspect a forepaw.

"Suit yourself." Waverunner shrugged. The patrol disappeared back into the reeds. As soon as they'd gone, Falconshade's head shot up.

"What're you doing in that thistle bush, beautiful?" He grinned, peering at Whitefang, who laughed and rolled out of it. The thistles that still clung to her pelt pricked something fierce, but she ignored them. Falconshade crowed with laughter.

"You look like a porcupine!" He howled.

"Aw, stuff stick in it!" Whitefang faux-growled, pouncing on him.

"Ow! You're all prickly!" Falconshade chuckled.

"Of course I am! Thanks to those apprentices, I've been hiding in there forever!" Whitefang sighed dramatically, flopping down in top of the ginger tom.

"Aw, they're not that bad. They're really sweet. It's their first day out, y'know. Bound to be excited. Hey, what're you doing here, anyway?" Falconshade asked.

"Looking for you," Whitefang replied sheepishly.

"Why?" Falconshade purred.

"I needed someone. Timbermask started it again, and I just exploded. Now I feel terrible." She sighed.

"If he started it, he should be the one feeling terrible," Falconshade frowned, "It's all his fault that you were always so upset and-"

"Pffft, I know he should feel bad. It's just…I exploded in front of the apprentices. They don't deserve to see us fight. With their assessments tomorrow, I don't want to stress them out." The pale warrior explained. Her mate nodded.

"I see. You know what might make you feel better?" He grinned.

"What?" Whitefang asked, looking at him curiously.

"If you took a little bit of your frustrations out on someone else." Falconshade said slyly. He tackled her, bowling Whitefang over and ignoring the jabbing thorns of the thistles.

"Hey, not fair! I wasn't ready!" Whitefang shrieked as Falconshade playfully pummeled her stomach with her paws. She slipped out from under him and knocked him over into the thistle bush. Now the ginger tom was covered in the little purple prickers as well.

"Now that was fighting dirty!" He exclaimed, launching himself at Whitefang with a playful yowl. The pale warrior giggled as he threw himself at her, knocking her off balance and nearly into the stream. The pair tussled, laughing, at the border, rolling over each other and then collapsing in fits of hysteria.

"I've got you now!" Falconshade growled, pinning Whitefang down as he stood over her. She pretended to squeal with fright, and a rustle sounded in the bushes.

"Hey! Let go of her!" Timbermask growled. The pale tabby stood in the clearing beside the border, bristling furiously as he glared at the pair. He lept after Falconshade, knocking him off of Whitefang in a fit of rage.

"Don't you dare touch her, you filthy son of a-" Timbermask snarled, raised an unsheathed paw to the Riverclan warrior's throat.

"No!" Whitefang screeched, "Timbermask, stop! Don't hurt him!" She ran at the pale tabby, claws slashing at his rippling shoulders. Timbermask fell off of Falconshade in shock, and watched, wide-eyed, as Whitefang stood over the ginger tom, breathing hard. Fire glinted in her golden eyes as she hissed.

"You will never hurt him!"

Whoa there tiger!

QOTD: Timbermask knows! What in Starclan's holy dirtplace will happen next?

I'm so happy to be back. the final day of midterms is tomorrow and I am SO FUCKING READY LIKE OMG PLEASE GET THIS OVER WITH and then maybe I'll update on Friday cuz I'm going to New York for the weekend. YAY NEW YORK i just ate a coffee flavored Ghirardelli chocolate don't blame me for this hyperness

I WILL SEE YOU NEXT TIME

1000TH REVIEWER EARNS THEMSELVES A SPECIAL ONESHOT OF WHATEVER THEY DESIRE, PLUS THEY GET TO NAME A KIT IN THE NEXT LITTER TO BE BORN IN SHADOWCLAN. YEAH THAT'S RIGHT, MAJOR STATUS HERE, FOLKS! I'M TALKING BIG BUCKS!

Energy has been depleted. Must go eat something before I go to the dentist. EW, I hate that place.

Au Revoir et Je vous aime beaucoup!

~Bright~

;)