Fireheart was grooming himself under one of the willows that reached over the dens. He had just eaten a small finch—not his favorite meal, but not terrible, either—and was picking the feathers out from his fur. He had not made any more attempts to fish since his diving attempt with Silverthorn a few days ago. For good reason; it was getting so cold that the edges of the river were beginning to freeze.
He glanced up from his cleaning as he heard heavy pawsteps crunching in the snow towards him. Beechflower was padding his way, and Fireheart grinned. "Hey, Beechflower!"
"Hey," Beechflower grumbled. The brown tom seemed off—his fur didn't have its usual gloss, and his eyes were dull. "Could I ask you a favor?"
"A favor?" Fireheart asked. "Sure. You don't look so good. Everything okay?"
Beechflower sat down and groaned quietly. "Not feeling so great," he admitted. "My belly is all kinds of messed up—I think I ate an old piece of fresh-kill last night. Would you mind taking out Shellpaw for me? I promised him I'd take him on a border patrol with Silverstream and Duckpaw."
Fireheart blinked. "Sure, I could do that." Might be kind of fun, actually. Fireheart had never been responsible for an apprentice before, but he had always liked Mallowtail's kits. "You sure you're okay? Maybe you should see Yellowfang and Mudfur."
Beechflower grinned gratefully, though he still looked pained. "I think I'll just sleep it off," he meowed. "If it still feels bad by sunhigh, I'll beg them for some herbs."
Fireheart chuckled quietly. "Alright. Where's Shellpaw?"
Beechflower glanced over his shoulder and nodded towards the fresh-kill pile. "Over there with his littermates."
Fireheart followed his gaze. Maplepaw, Shellpaw, and Duckpaw were each sitting by the pile, staring at it longingly. Silverstream sat nearby, talking quietly to them. Apprentices were not meant to eat until queens and elders were fed, and the pile was already low. Fireheart felt a pang of sympathy for the young cats—he too had spent many hungry mornings in training. "Alright." He stood up. "Feel better, okay?"
"Thanks, Fireheart," Beechflower meowed, before he grimaced silently. "I owe you one." The brown tom slowly padded away towards the Warriors' den.
Fireheart padded across camp. Silverstream spotted him as he headed towards them, and she blinked in greeting. "There he is," she meowed. "Looks like Beechflower managed to get him to come."
Fireheart twitched his whiskers as he joined them by the pile. "I didn't need convincing," he meowed. "Did he tell you he wasn't feeling well?"
Silverstream frowned. "Yes. Hopefully it is just a bellyache—this is the time of year when cats start getting really ill."
"Hi, Fireheart!" Maplepaw chirped. The young molly beamed up at him, her eyes bright. "Are you really coming with us?"
Fireheart smiled and nodded. "Yeah."
"Yes!" Duckpaw exclaimed. "Fireheart is so cool!" He immediately looked embarrassed to have blurted that out, and Maplepaw giggled and shouldered him.
Silverstream chuckled softly. "Looks like somebody has fans."
Fireheart's pelt fluffed out, a bit self-consciously. Feeling rather embarrassed himself, he ducked his head. "I'm not that cool…"
"You fought off that dog!" Maplepaw proclaimed. "I'm going to fight off a dog someday, too! Watch this!" She reared up on her hind legs and swiped at the air. "I've been practicing!"
Shellpaw, who hadn't said a word the entire time, was staring silently at Fireheart. The ginger warrior caught his gaze and stiffened a little, unnerved by the silent apprentice's unreadable expression. "Hey, Shellpaw," he meowed. "I'm going to help train you since Beechflower is—"
"I know," Shellpaw sharply interrupted. Fireheart blinked. Was that hostility in his voice?
Silverstream shot the tom a reprimanding glare. "Don't be rude!" she meowed. "Fireheart is your mentor for the day—you should act the same as you would with Beechflower!"
Shellpaw glared back at her. "Frogleap isn't coming on the patrol," he grumbled. "Why couldn't we just go with you?"
"Shut up!" Duckpaw hissed, jabbing his brother in the side with a paw. "We want him to come with!"
"Whatever," Shellpaw muttered. "Can we just go?" Without waiting for a response, he stood and hurried towards the reed barrier, then crashed through them.
Fireheart watched him go, more perplexed than offended. Does he really just like Beechflower that much that he's mad I'm here instead? The outburst was strange—Shellpaw had been nice enough when Fireheart had watched him and his littermates as kits.
"Great StarClan!" Silverstream exclaimed, shaking her head with exasperation. "We'd better go after him—and then I'm going to have his whiskers!"
"It's fine," Fireheart replied. "Maybe he's just having a bad morning? He's never been rude like that before."
Maplepaw scoffed. "He's been nothing but a badger since we became apprentices," she replied. The tortoiseshell molly began to pad towards the reed barrier in the direction her brother had gone.
Silverstream, Fireheart, and Duckpaw followed quickly. Fireheart frowned to himself as they left camp. I wonder what's wrong with Shellpaw, he thought. Maybe he'll be better once we start patrolling? Doubt pricked at him despite the thought. Had he done something to offend Shellpaw without knowing it?
They padded through the dry reeds, and Fireheart's fur fluffed out against the chill outside as a breeze swept over him. The shoreline, thankfully, only had a thin layer of snow—the dawn patrol must have already trampled over it, making it easier for them to walk now. He glanced towards the river. Chunks of snow were slowly flowing down it, and thin sheets of ice were growing along the edge.
"The river might freeze soon," Silverstream commented. She flicked her tail and frowned slightly. "Though it feels so soon… I swear it was warm just a moon ago."
"Early winter?" Fireheart guessed. "Maybe it means we'll get an early spring, too." He couldn't see why Silverstream sounded worried… but then again, he could hardly remember his first winter.
"I don't know," Silverstream fretted. "Father always says early winter means thaws before snow really sets in. There could be flooding."
Flooding? Fireheart frowned. No one's mentioned anything before about flooding. He shook his head a little. "No use worrying about it now," he said. He shifted his gaze towards the shoreline. The apprentices were all walking together a few fox-lengths ahead. Maplepaw and Duckpaw were both meowing something to Shellpaw, who was lashing his tail as though irritated.
"What do you think is wrong with him?" Fireheart asked. "I don't get why he's so…"
"Angry?" Silverstream asked. She twitched her whiskers. "StarClan knows. He's usually agreeable enough, even if he isn't as energetic as his littermates."
"Hmm…" Fireheart wasn't sure what to think. Maplepaw said he's been grumpy lately. But why so rude to me? I don't get it. "Well, hopefully he lightens up, I guess. Which border are we checking?"
"Just along the river and on the bridge," Silverstream replied. "Shouldn't be too long."
Fireheart nodded wordlessly. Should I be doing something with Shellpaw? I'm supposed to be a stand-in mentor… what did Dawnwhisker usually do when we patrolled together? An idea struck him, and he hurried up his pace to catch up to the apprentices. "Hey!" he meowed, forcing himself to sound more cheerful. "What can you three smell?"
Maplepaw and Duckpaw immediately stopped walking to taste the air. Shellpaw, however, shot Fireheart an annoyed glance. "You've got a working nose, don't you?"
Maplepaw shot her brother a mortified look. "Shellpaw!" she gasped.
Fireheart bristled in surprise. I would have had my pelt ripped out if I had talked like that to a warrior—mentor or not! He felt a stab of annoyance, but tried again. "Shellpaw, we're on a border patrol. The point is for you to learn—"
"I don't want you to teach me anything!" Shellpaw blurted out, eyes blazing. His voice rose to a shout. "You're a kittypet! Kittypets are stupid and useless and don't help anybody!"
Fireheart took a step back, alarmed and flooded with a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, confusion, and uncertainty—and Maplepaw and Shellpaw whirled upon Shellpaw, jaws wide open.
Silverstream, having just reached them, let out a furious hiss. "Shellpaw!" Her tail lashed back and forth, and Shellpaw winced. "I have half a mind to claw your ears! Where did you get such horrible ideas about Fireheart?" She let out a huff. "I don't even care. Fireheart is a warrior—you do not speak to warriors that way!"
Shellpaw glowered at her without a word. Fireheart was still staring in shock at the apprentice, and though he was grateful that his friend had spoken up for him, he was as blindsided as he was stung by the insult. It wasn't the first time some cat had said or implied he was a burden on the Clan—but why Shellpaw? It had always been cats older than him.
"Well?" Silverstream prompted. "Apologize!"
Shellpaw slid his gaze towards Fireheart again. A silent heartbeat passed. Then, he let out a sudden growl. "No!"
With that, Shellpaw turned on his paws and broke into a run. He raced away from the patrol, heading further upriver without looking back.
"Shellpaw!" Silverstream called. "Come back!"
Fireheart sighed. "I'll go after him."
Silverstream glanced his way. "Are you sure that's wise? Clearly he seems to have some issue with you, minnow-brained as that is."
Fireheart nodded. "No, I'll go, it's fine. I'm supposed to be his mentor for the day, right?" He started off after the younger tom. Besides, I'd like to know what exactly his problem is! Fireheart hurried along, but didn't run. Shellpaw himself had already slowed to a quick walk, and hadn't looked back once towards his patrol. He was further up the river already, where the ground sloped up above the river towards the gorge.
Fireheart continued on, keeping an eye on Shellpaw as he went on. If he starts running again, I'll chase him… but I don't want to come running up and make him angry all over again. His frown didn't waver as he padded after him. Really, though, did I do something? I don't even think I could have said anything that would have made him so mad!
Eventually, Fireheart saw Shellpaw stop and sit down beside the gorge. The apprentice's tail thumped up and down against the ground, and his ears pressed flat. Fireheart picked up his pace and called out. "Shellpaw!"
Shellpaw bristled, and his ears angled towards Fireheart, but he did not move to acknowledge him. He didn't run, though, so Fireheart took that as a good sign and bounded towards him until he had caught up to the apprentice.
"You shouldn't run off like that," Fireheart meowed as he approached Shellpaw. "You've only been training for hardly a half-moon. What if a dog was loose?"
"Well," Shellpaw drawled dryly. "I suppose you would have fought it off single-pawed, wouldn't you?"
Fireheart narrowed his eyes as he sat down a fox-length away. "Listen," he growled. "I feel I've been nothing but nice to you, Shellpaw. I don't understand why you're acting like this!"
Shellpaw fell silent again and resumed his sullen staring down into the gorge. His tail whipped from side-to-side.
Fireheart took a breath, trying to determine what to say. Part of him wanted to keep playing nice, but another part of him was starting to want to box Shellpaw's ears. "Look, I could just go report to Leopardfur that you've been nothing but disrespectful to Silverstream and I, and that you disregarded your duties on patrol." He nearly winced as he said it. StarClan, I'm sounding like old Bluefur! Fireheart paused a moment before he continued, "But I don't really want to do that, and I doubt you'd like whatever horrible task she'd give you for it. So why don't you just tell me what's going on?"
Instead of doing so, Shellpaw snorted. Snidely, he shot back, "Like Leopardfur would take your word!"
Fireheart couldn't help himself anymore. He bristled furiously and let out a growl. "Shellpaw!" he snapped. "I want to help you, but for StarClan's sake, I will make sure you're cleaning the elder's den for the next moon if you keep acting like that!" He lashed his tail. "Leopardfur will take the word of two warriors over a fresh apprentice's, and so will your mentor!"
Shellpaw curled his lip. He was still for a single heartbeat before he sharply whirled on his paws, hissing. "I hate you!" he shouted, his amber eyes blazing. "It's your fault he's dead!"
Fireheart blinked and flinched back, startled once more by the ferocity in the young tom. "Who…?"
"My father!" Shellpaw snarled. "You might as well have thrown him off the gorge yourself, fleabag! If it wasn't for you, he'd still be alive!"
Fireheart stared at Shellpaw for a few moments, taken aback. He… he blames me for Whiteclaw's death? Shellpaw wasn't even there! He studied the young cat wordlessly, flooded with confusion.
Shellpaw stared back at him, malice in his gaze. But as Fireheart watched, he saw the younger cat trembling, his eyes glistening and wet. Instead of feeling furious with Shellpaw, he felt a pang of pity. Shellpaw was grieving, and he was taking it out on Fireheart.
Fireheart sighed heavily and shook his head. "I didn't kill Whiteclaw, Shellpaw."
"It's still your fault," Shellpaw choked out. The apprentice tore at the grass with his claws. "It's your fault."
"Why?" Fireheart softly asked. "I don't understand. I really don't."
Shellpaw sniffed loudly and sat back down. He curled his tail around himself and lowered his gaze. "You don't want to understand," he muttered. "You just want to make me blame someone else."
Fireheart felt hopelessly frustrated and confused. Who could have told him it was my fault? He wondered. Someone had to have given him the idea. He tried again. "I didn't want your father to die, Shellpaw. We didn't get along… he was never very nice to me. But I didn't do anything to get him killed. The cat that he was fighting with…I don't think he meant for it to happen, either. It was a horrible accident in a sudden skirmish."
Shellpaw scowled. "A skirmish that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't gone to WindClan."
What? Fireheart narrowed his eyes. That's what this is about? "Look, Shellpaw… you obviously think you know what happened. So tell me what you think happened."
"Fine!" Shellpaw meowed. "You went off to WindClan for a moon when Crookedstar and Leopardfur didn't want you to! You were gone when we were attacked by ThunderClan! And then you show up with a ThunderClan warrior by your side and defended her when Leopardfur told you to attack!" He let out a growl. "If you'd listened and chased her out, that fight would have never happened! Actually, if you'd just stayed here like any other warrior, then it couldn't have happened!"
Fireheart was quiet for a moment. No way he came up with that on his own, he thought. He was still a kit when I left. But… why? Why tell him it happened like that? It wasn't all untrue, but it certainly was a limited version of events. He took a guess. "Did Leopardfur tell you all that?" It makes sense, right? First the thing with Silverthorn… and now this?
Shellpaw scowled. "What about it?" he growled. "I wanted to know what happened in that fight! I wanted to know why it happened!" He flattened his ears again. "Why couldn't you have just stayed here?"
"Did she tell you WindClan was starving?" Fireheart demanded. "Did she tell you they had almost been massacred by ShadowClan, their apprentices and young warriors killed?" He saw Shellpaw finally look surprised, and he went on. "How about that she knew the warrior with me had also been helping them? She tell you about how every Clan sent a warrior to help WindClan?" He lashed his tail. "Did Leopardfur tell you she never had to start that attack in the first place?!"
Shellpaw blinked a few times. "No, but…"
"Battles aren't easy, Shellpaw," Fireheart snapped. "We've lost a lot of cats to ThunderClan, but WindClan has lost even more. They needed our help, and so I went. And when I came back, Leopardfur decided to attack Bluefur because she was from ThunderClan. Knowing now what happened to Sedgecreek, I don't entirely blame her… but I won't sit here and let you tell me that I killed Whiteclaw!" He took a breath and sighed, lowering his voice once more. "I don't know why she told it to you that way, and I'm sorry about Whiteclaw."
Shellpaw's shoulders slumped. He looked defeated. "I just…" He shut his eyes. "I miss him."
"It's okay to miss him," Fireheart softly meowed. "He's your father."
Shellpaw nodded. He was quiet for a few moments before he opened his eyes and looked back at Fireheart. "I… I'm sorry." He looked away quickly. "Will you… are you going to tell Leopardfur?"
Fireheart twitched his whiskers. "No, I won't tell Leopardfur. Can we go back to the patrol?"
Shellpaw nodded. "...Yeah. I'm ready." The white tom stood up and slowly began to pad away, heading back downriver.
Fireheart watched him for a moment before he stood. Shellpaw… he wasn't sure how to feel. I guess it's easier to have someone to blame. He could understand that—after Whiteclaw's death, he had blamed ThunderClan, before he properly talked to Sandstorm. But what did Leopardfur have to gain by acting like the entire situation had been Fireheart's fault? He furrowed his brow as he started off after Shellpaw. I don't know what she's up to… why is she so out to get me?
"Are you sure you don't want to talk to Leopardfur or my father?" Silverstream asked. They were heading back towards the camp now, with the three apprentices leading the way a few fox-lengths away. "Shellpaw could use a little punishment for how he acted."
"No, I'm sure," Fireheart quietly replied. He slowed down even more. "I'm not so sure Leopardfur would do anything about it."
Silverstream frowned and slowed down as well. She gave him a curious look. "Is something else going on?" she asked. "You're a warrior now. That title comes with respect. Shellpaw can't go around calling you a stupid kittypet to your face. And it's not just about you—he shouldn't have the idea he can talk like that to any warrior when he's still practically a kit."
Fireheart flicked his tail. "Leopardfur hates me," he meowed. "I don't know why—maybe just because I'm kittypet-born, maybe because I've irritated her too many times—but she's got something against me. She told Shellpaw it was my fault Whiteclaw died."
Silverstream bristled. "What? But that's crazy!"
"I know," Fireheart meowed. "She started that fight out of nowhere. I'm not surprised she didn't take the blame herself, but why blame me to an apprentice if she doesn't want cats turning against me again?"
Silverstream narrowed her eyes. "I don't know what's going on with Leopardfur, but I don't like it. What does she have to gain from scorning you? It doesn't make sense." She stomped one paw and let out a hmph. "I'll talk to Father for you. I'll just say I've been noticing her acting strange—I don't want her to twist it to make it sound like you're spreading rumors about your deputy."
Fireheart blinked. "You would do that for me?"
"Of course," Silverstream replied. "You're a good cat, Fireheart, and I'd rather not have a snake for a deputy if I can help it." She smiled and gave him a wink. "Just leave it to me. Crookedstar will listen to what I have to say."
Fireheart let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Silverstream."
They fell into silence again as they approached the reed barrier. The apprentices ahead darted into camp without hesitation. Silverstream and Fireheart followed along behind them. Fireheart scanned the camp as he stepped through the line of reeds.
Despite the cold, it seemed many cats were out of their dens and in camp. Crookedstar himself was out, stretched outside of the nursery with Brambleflower's kits flopped across his paws and over his back. Fireheart couldn't hear Crookedstar, but he could see that the old tom was speaking to them. Probably telling one of his old battle stories, Fireheart fondly thought. He glanced at Silverstream, and she smiled.
"He sure loves kits," Silverstream purred. "Leave it to him to spend the day—"
Crookedstar let out a sudden, harsh cough, loud enough to startle most cats, Fireheart and Silverstream included. Fireheart glanced back towards his leader, surprised by the intensity of the noise. Crookedstar sat up slowly and began to hack out a series of rough coughs. Brambleflower's little kits tumbled away from him, bristling.
"Father!" Silverstream called. "Are you alright?"
Crookedstar's eyes briefly flickered towards her. He tried to push himself up to a standing position. His legs lurched under him, and he retched.
Fireheart's chest clenched with unease. What's happening to him?
"Yellowfang! Mudfur!" Reedtail's voice rang out. "Something's wrong with Crookedstar!"
Crookedstar tried once more to stand. His limbs quivered, and the huge tom swayed to one side. He tried to take a step, and lurched to the other. Crookedstar's eyes rolled back and he dropped like a stone, landing in the thin covering of snow with a thump.
"Father!" Silverstream shrieked. She leaped from Fireheart's side towards Crookedstar, racing the short distance to him. Cats let out startled wails.
Mudfur and Yellowfang both emerged from their den, eyes wide. "What's the meaning of this?" Mudfur demanded. Both medicine cats laid eyes upon their fallen leader as soon as the words were out of his mouth.
"Fox-dung!" Yellowfang swore. She rushed to the tom's side and crouched beside him. Her ragged pelt stood on end as she leaned forward and pressed an ear to him. Quickly, she meowed, "He's still breathing." She looked towards Reedtail, who was still the closest warrior beside Silverstream. "You! Help get him into my den."
"What's happened to him?" Leopardfur demanded. The deputy was across camp, near the Warriors' Den, her eyes narrowed and pelt bristled.
Mudfur shook his head as Silverstream and Reedtail began to drag Crookedstar's limp form towards the Medicine Cats' Den. "I have no idea," he replied. "Beechflower was sick this morning… but not like this."
"Will Crookedstar be alright?" Mallowtail called.
"Was that greencough?" Weaselfoot asked.
"What'll happen to him?"
"Is he dying?!"
Voices rose up over each other, drowning out any individual speaker. Fireheart flattened his ears, eyes wide. Great StarClan… what's going on? I don't understand what just happened to him!
"Be quiet!" Yellowfang yowled. "You lot aren't helping by screeching! Let us work." She stood and waited for the cries of the Clan to die back.
Fireheart hurried towards her, alarmed by the whole ordeal. Yellowfang was about to turn back towards her den after Mudfur when he stopped her. "What was that?" Fireheart urgently asked. "He just passed out out of nowhere."
Yellowfang glanced at Fireheart and frowned deeply. "I don't know, Fireheart…" she hesitated, before she sighed. "Crookedstar is old. Even if it was just whitecough that he had… he wouldn't be able to handle it well." She straightened up and narrowed her eyes. "But I'll do all I can in my power to heal him. The rest is up to StarClan." She took a step towards her den, then looked back at Fireheart. "Stay away from the den, lad. I don't want you catching whatever knocked him cold." With that, she hurried into the den.
Fireheart stood there and stared into the dark den. I don't understand what just happened! He thought. Crookedstar looked like he was fine… and now he's deathly ill? He shuddered, feeling his heart pounding with anxiety. He won't die, will he?
Many of the RiverClan cats began to approach the den, whispering nervously among themselves. Leopardfur hurriedly darted towards it and cut off Blackclaw's attempt to peek inside. "Warriors of RiverClan!" she snapped. "Get back, all of you. Crowding our healers won't make Crookedstar better. He needs space and rest."
Petalstream sliced her claws across the snow. "But that was so strange!" she blurted. "I've never seen anything like it…"
Leopardfur touched her tail to Petalstream's shoulder. "I will stay nearby and wait for Mudfur's update. Trust me, waiting here will help none of you, and it won't help him." She raised her voice. "As soon as I know anything, I will share it with all of you. Back to your business, now." Her voice was gentler than it often was - but there was still an unwavering sternness.
Fireheart remained in his place as the others filtered away. He stared at Leopardfur, feeling frozen in place by confusion and worry. If Crookedstar dies… that means Leopardfur becomes leader. He felt his throat tighten. What does that mean for me? Leopardfur had threatened to exile Fireheart in the past… and now he knew that she had watched Silverthorn try to kill him and convinced Shellpaw that he had practically killed Whiteclaw. Will she get rid of me? His gaze flickered back towards the mouth of the den. Silverstream was going to talk to Crookedstar… but what if he never gets better?
He looked back towards Leopardfur and found her intense stare focused on him. Her amber eyes burned into his, expression ever undecipherable. Claws of stress gripped at Fireheart's belly. They could have remained there, staring at one another, for as long as moons, and Fireheart wouldn't have known better.
Finally, Leopardfur broke the silence. "You too, Fireheart. Go on."
Fireheart blinked. He sheathed his claws without having been aware they were unsheathed to begin with. Wordlessly, he turned himself away from her. I can't understand what's going on in her head, he thought. Why does she hate me so much?
I'm pretty excited to be finally breaking into the second half of the book - much more exciting things start happening soon :). I will say I'm not the most happy with the pacing over the next couple chapters... I kind of needed to push things along to get to where we need to get in the story. If anyone has feedback on the next couple of chapters I would be Especially happy to get it!
Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing, I really do appreciate it! Remember, if you want to send in questions/ramble about your theories to me, my blog is warriorsfireandwater on tumblr and I love when I hear from y'all.
