Fireheart crept out from the reed barrier under the darkness of night. Not even Silverpelt lit his path, for the sky was shrouded in dark clouds. Still, he padded forward confidently. He had been visiting Sandstorm frequently for the last half-moon now. His muscles ached with tiredness, but he still felt compelled to go see the ThunderClan warrior. Beechflower was still ill with some odd stomach bug, and so Fireheart had taken Shellpaw out again for hunting practice earlier.
Fireheart frowned to himself as he made his way towards the Stepping Stones. Beechflower had been sick for the last three days, as had Crookedstar. No cat aside for the medicine cats and Silverstream had seen a hair of the leader since he had mysteriously fainted. Leopardfur, true to her word, had remained diligently outside the Medicine Cats' Den for the last three days, waiting for a report.
It made Fireheart uneasy, her sitting and watching. All the more reason to get out of camp for a little while each night. It should have made him nervous to leave his territory and risk getting caught meeting a friend of another Clan—but instead, he was lighthearted. It was a welcome relief from the tensions of the Clan to get out and talk to someone who wasn't waiting for word of Crookedstar's death.
He crossed the Stepping Stones quickly and continued on his way downstream, heading for the willow tree where they often met. Fireheart lifted his tail as he saw Sandstorm already sitting at its base.
"Hey, mouse-brain," Sandstorm called. "Took you long enough."
Fireheart twitched his whiskers and grinned as he approached. "Am I late?" He wasn't insulted by her name-calling anymore. It had become clear it was a friendly taunt, not one laced with dislike.
Sandstorm shrugged. "It feels like I've been sitting here for a moon, but maybe the cold is just getting to me."
Fireheart nodded as he sat down near her and curled his tail around himself. "It is cold tonight. How are you?"
"Fine," Sandstorm replied, a little too quickly. A moment later, she sighed. "Honestly? I'm tired. Having Thistlestar in camp is like having a fox in the territory. You know one is out there, and you know it won't go well when it shows it's face… but sooner or later, someone runs into it."
Seems like I'm not the only one with leadership troubles… Fireheart frowned. "Did something happen?"
Sandstorm was quiet for a moment. She was often like this; hesitant before she admitted to anything beyond the surface level of what she was thinking. Fireheart leaned closer. It made her strangely intriguing to him, leaving him wanting to know what she had to say. She's always holding back, he thought.
Finally, she sighed. "Of course something happened." Sandstorm's voice was resigned. "I wasn't there, but… I guess he wanted to supervise some battle practice. He didn't think Brightpaw was doing well enough, so…" She scowled. "He scratched her."
Fireheart gasped. "He what?"
"I know." Sandstorm let out a hiss. "First attacking Bluefur and Dustpelt… and now this. An apprentice! She's barely out of the nursery, of course she isn't the most fighting fit cat in the Clan. Apparently he thought it would 'motivate' her. Remind her what a real battle is about."
Fireheart felt his heart pound. Memories of Thistlestar looming over him flashed in his mind. The wounds of that foolish fight were long gone—but sometimes he was still reminded that it had scarred him in a different way. "That's horrible," he replied, flattening his ears.
"I just…" Sandstorm's shoulders slumped. She clenched her eyes shut as she rasped, "StarClan, it's just so hard. Everything is just…" her voice trailed off. "It didn't used to be like this."
Fireheart was still for a moment, unsure of what to do. He felt a wave of sympathy for the molly as she bowed her head, teeth gritted. Sandstorm had admitted things about the state of her Clan before, but she had never crumbled like this. Something compelled him to move closer. He shifted towards her and leaned in, pressing his head against her shoulder.
Sandstorm flinched, clearly surprised by the contact. Aside from their play-fight half a moon ago, they had never really touched in their nightly meetings. Fireheart nearly pulled away, but as quickly as she had jerked away, she leaned back against him. Fireheart took a breath. Sandstorm's scent brought a fierce warmth to his chest. She smelled of the forest: of mice, ferns, moss, and the musk of ThunderClan. Such a strong scent of a warrior from an enemy Clan should have repulsed him, but it did not.
Sandstorm turned her head towards him and pressed her cheek against his. It was Fireheart's turn to be surprised—ThunderClan cats were not affectionate by nature, least of all Sandstorm. But he did not pull back. He relished the feeling of her warm breath on his cheek. Finally, he whispered, "It's okay."
A silent sob shook Sandstorm. "It didn't used to be like this," she repeated, quietly. "I'm not… I'm a cat that's afraid of things. But it's been so… it's…"
"I know," Fireheart murmured. "It's okay to be afraid."
Sandstorm didn't reply. She pulled her head away and looked down at the ground. Then, slowly, she lowered herself into a crouch. "I don't want to go back," she said. "Not tonight. I just… need one night to not worry about him." She hesitated before she glanced at Fireheart. "Will you stay?"
"Yes." Fireheart didn't give himself half a moment to think about it before he had blurted his response. He crouched beside her, and their eyes met. "As long as you need." His gaze trailed over her. Now that he was looking, the signs of stress were painfully clear. Her pelt hadn't been groomed in what was likely days—dirt and dust clung to it, and clumps of fur were beginning to mat together. Poor Sandstorm, he thought. Whatever I've been worrying about with Leopardfur… she feels it too in ThunderClan. Maybe even worse. Without thinking, he leaned forward and licked at a mat of fur.
Fireheart half-expected Sandstorm to jerk away. Instead, she sighed softly, letting herself relax. She let herself slump to one side, her back to Fireheart, and closed her eyes. Fireheart continued to gently groom her. Something fluttered in his belly, as though he'd swallowed a grasshopper. Sandstorm laid her head on her paws, and a low purr rumbled in her throat. Fireheart wasn't even sure that she meant to. He continued for a few more moments, until she finally spoke.
"I should be ripping out your whiskers," Sandstorm meowed. Fireheart blinked and paused in his grooming, and gave her a startled look. Despite her words, her eyes were bright. "Really—letting an enemy warrior share tongues with me. It's… it's not right." She looked away, almost shyly. "But I don't want to shred you." Sandstorm laughed once, in a self-conscious sort of way. Quietly, she breathed, "What is it about you?"
Fireheart felt his heart pounding as he looked at her. Warmth flowed through his chest and burned in his belly, and he couldn't tell if it was excitement or nausea. This feeling… he felt his throat tightening, and he tried to swallow. He had felt something before—something that had compelled him to come here so often with Sandstorm—but not quite like this. Or had he always felt it and not noticed? He wasn't so sure anymore.
I don't just want to be her friend, he realized. I've never felt like this about anyone before. Fireheart swallowed again at the thought. Part of him screamed at him to pull away and run home for good—but he didn't want to, not really. Does she feel it, too?
"You're staring at me," Sandstorm whispered. "Say something, mouse-brain."
"I…" Fireheart's throat felt impossibly tight. His tail flicked nervously. "I really, um…" Get it together! He berated himself. Why did he feel like he was about to faint?
He looked down at his paws. Maybe if I don't say anything we can just go back to how things were. It was so normal until… Fireheart gulped again. Do I want it to go back to normal?
Fireheart looked up again and met Sandstorm's warm green gaze, and he knew the answer. "Sandstorm, I… I really like spending time with you."
Sandstorm flicked an ear. He saw her swallow. Half-heartedly, she joked, "Even when all I do is complain about my leader?"
Fireheart shook his head. "No—I mean, yes—I mean…" he took a breath. Spit it out! "I think I… I like you."
Sandstorm stared at him, her jaws parting slightly. "You…"
Words kept tumbling awkwardly out of Fireheart. "I mean, it's… I always want to see you, even though it's cold and the middle of the night and you're not always happy—I just—It's all I look forward to anymore." He tore his eyes away from hers, his ears growing painfully warm. "Things in RiverClan have been so stressful, too, and it's… being here with you… it makes me happy."
Sandstorm inhaled sharply. She curled her tail around herself. "Every day I tell myself I'm not going to come here," she meowed. "Every day… and I still do it." Sandstorm let out a breath. "I used to think that everything you did made me angry, but… I think I was trying to ignore how I actually felt. How I feel. About you."
Fireheart felt his heart leap in his chest. She does feel the same! He let out a purr and pressed his head against her shoulder once more. Playfully, he asked, "So, are you going to stop calling me a mouse-brain?"
"Never," Sandstorm snorted. "But I guess that makes me a mouse-brain too, thinking a fish-face is handsome."
Fireheart's pelt fluffed up in embarrassment. "You think I'm handsome?" His ears grew warm all over again, and he couldn't help but grin.
"Shut up." Sandstorm rolled to her other side and batted at him. "Tell anyone I said that and I'll actually shred you."
Fireheart snorted, amused, but the feeling quickly faded. This doesn't change anything, though, he thought. We're not hurting anyone by being here… but I doubt anyone would like it if they knew why we were seeing each other. Quietly, he asked, "What are we going to do? We still can't tell anyone—"
"Tell anyone what?" Sandstorm meowed. She flicked her ears back. "I like you, Fireheart, but that doesn't make us mates. I'm not ready for anything like that, and besides, I'm not even sure how that would work."
"We could figure it out," Fireheart blurted.
"Look, I…" Sandstorm sighed. "This is a lot. Can we just… lay here tonight?" She glanced up at him again. "I'm not saying I don't feel something for you. I've just had a day and it's ages too soon to be doing anything like that."
Fireheart was still for a moment as he thought on this. I guess she's right, he thought. I'm not sure if I can even figure it out tonight myself. After the last few days of stress in RiverClan… the idea of just resting was a comforting one. So Fireheart let himself flop onto his side beside Sandstorm, and he purred quietly as she shifted closer to press against him.
They laid there for the rest of the night, unaware of the cold, gladly putting aside their own worries until the morning.
Sandstorm woke to water droplets falling on her face. For a heartbeat, she thought the Warriors' Den was leaking—until she opened her eyes and remembered where she was and who she was with. Her paw was draped over Fireheart's back, his tail tangled with her legs. She lifted her head slowly and looked over at him. The ginger tom was still asleep. Sandstorm felt her heart beat a little harder, and she swallowed and looked away. Fox-dung, Sandstorm, what have you gotten yourself into? Something tugged at her, willing her to relax and press her muzzle into his soft pelt again.
Instead, though, she slowly pulled herself away from him. Sandstorm sat up and was still for a while, looking down at the sleeping warrior. We're supposed to be enemies, she thought, as she watched Fireheart's belly rise and fall. We're supposed to be at war. But… she let her tail brush against him again. I can't help it. Stupid RiverClan romanticism is rubbing off on me. Sandstorm wanted to feel irritated, but instead, she just felt warm. This wasn't something any other cat had made her feel. She knew, privately, that some expected her to settle down in ThunderClan and have a few kits—specifically, with Dustpelt—but Sandstorm had never intended on giving them that satisfaction.
She'd never considered that some other cat would make her feel like a moony apprentice. Least of all the one she had convinced herself she hated.
Sandstorm crouched down and curled her tail around herself. Did I ever hate him? She wondered. Ever since he had saved her from falling off the gorge, she had almost been desperate to. Any normal cat would've been grateful. I told myself I wanted to claw him for it. Why else if not to convince myself I didn't feel something other than disgust? She flattened her ears. StarClan, this is supposed to be simple! Clans aren't supposed to mix. Cats have died over less!
Sandstorm sighed. I've been trying to fight it without even knowing I was. Everything else is so hard in ThunderClan… can't I have something nice for myself? Fireheart kicked slightly in his sleep, and she smiled without meaning to. Almost begrudgingly, she had to admit that he was handsome. His pelt was somewhere between long and short in length, and despite how thin his fur was, it remained fuzzy and bright. His deep fiery color was so unusual for a Clan cat, as most ginger cats were pale like Sandstorm. Though he had grown in his time in the Clans, he still had a softness to him. If it weren't for his kittypet heritage, Fireheart would likely have many cats padding after him.
Does that make me lucky or even more of a mouse-brain? Sandstorm wasn't sure of the answer. What she had said last night was true—she wasn't about to call him her mate—but Sandstorm did feel something for him. That much she couldn't deny.
A crack and splash snapped her out of her thoughts. Sandstorm bristled fearfully and looked out towards the river. Far down it, closer to Sunningrocks, a RiverClan patrol had crossed the river. The ice right along the bank had split open, but the rest of the surface had been frozen enough to hold them. A black warrior cursed and shook out his paws—he must have been the one to step into water.
They're trespassing, Sandstorm realized. They're going to take Sunningrocks.
For once, her usually sharp instincts were failing her. Sandstorm pressed herself to the ground and stared, heart pounding, but she did not know what to do. She could not attack them alone. It was dawn, and there should have been a ThunderClan patrol coming to Sunningrocks soon enough—but they needed to be warned so they wouldn't be ambushed. Sandstorm swallowed as she glanced at Fireheart. But if I find them, they might smell RiverClan on me. How would she explain that to them? She looked back towards the RiverClan patrol. They were cautiously spreading out among the rocks. But if I don't warn them, I'm just a coward!
Cowardice was the most despicable trait a ThunderClan warrior could have.
Sandstorm hissed and shoved Fireheart. His eyes flew open, and he nearly yowled, but she slapped a paw over his jaws. "Get up!" she whispered. "Your Clan is stealing my territory!"
Fireheart blinked and pulled his head away from her paw. "What?" He rolled onto his belly and looked towards Sunningrocks. It didn't take long for him to see what was happening. "Oh—oh, fox-dung!" He glanced at her, wide-eyed. "What do we do?"
Sandstorm lashed her tail. Useless furball! "I don't know!" she hissed. "Get back to your own camp. I have to warn my Clanmates."
Fireheart blinked. Sandstorm couldn't tell if he looked surprised. Defensively, she meowed, "Look—I have to be loyal to my Clan, regardless of whatever this is. If I see a patrol, I will warn them. I won't have my Clanmates dying for your sake."
"That's not—" Fireheart shook his head. "I wasn't going to ask that you didn't tell anyone." He glanced back towards the patrol. "But I don't think you have to."
As he spoke, a furious yowl rang out. One of the RiverClan warriors had been spotted. A patrol came streaming out of the bushes, bristling and spitting. Darkstripe, Frostfur, and Willowpelt—a small patrol compared to the five RiverClan cats on the shore.
Sandstorm clenched her jaw for a moment. I have to go. I can't watch them fight like this! She looked to Fireheart. "I can't go home now."
Fireheart's own tail was lashing about nervously. He nodded briefly. "I know," he meowed. "You're too fierce for that." He stood up. "Go. It's okay. I'll go home."
Just like that? Sandstorm swallowed. She wondered why he wasn't as eager to leap into a fight to help his Clanmates. Is it just because he doesn't want to fight me? StarClan… I hadn't even thought about fighting him.
Fireheart suddenly shot forward and touched his nose to her ear. "Good luck," he meowed. "I'll come back tonight."
Sandstorm didn't respond as he turned and bounded away, heading further down the river, the opposite direction of the Sunningrocks fight. She assumed he would sneak back to his own camp and avoid the battle altogether. She watched him a heartbeat longer before she bounced away herself, heading right towards Sunningrocks.
It didn't take her long to get there. Sandstorm was a quick runner, and determination to reach her Clanmates hastened her. She bounded across the rocky shoreline and let out a yowl as she reached the edge of Sunningrocks.
The fight wasn't going well. Darkstripe was backed up against a large rock, facing two cats. Leopardfur and Blackclaw were fighting Willowpelt, who could only barely manage to dodge their attacks without being able to land her own blows. Frostfur had just been pinned to the ground by a dark gray cat—Shadefang, Sandstorm believed—but her ears pricked at the sound of Sandstorm's approach. She snarled and dealt Shadefang a blow across her face, and the RiverClan warrior recoiled. She spotted Sandstorm racing towards Leopardfur and bristled. "ThunderClan reinforcements coming!"
Leopardfur whirled on her paws, hissing, and left Blackclaw to deal with Willowpelt alone. Sandstorm leaped for her, and Leopardfur reared up to meet her attack. Leopardfur was a formidable warrior, but Sandstorm had ThunderClan bulk on her side, and the force of her attack brought Leopardfur to the ground. Sandstorm hissed as she felt claws in her shoulder. Leopardfur gripped her with her claws as they fell and pummeled fiercely at her belly with her hind paws. The two warriors rolled and tussled, each kicking at the other. Sandstorm felt claws tear through the side of her neck. She shrieked and pulled herself away, leaving behind fur in Leopardfur's claws.
Both warriors regained their footing and stood, arching their backs. Sandstorm winced at the pain from the scratch—but thankfully, it had missed her throat, and she could fight on. To her satisfaction, she saw Leopardfur's side was bleeding from where a hind claw had cut her.
Leopardfur's eyes narrowed. "There are no more reinforcements!" she spat. "Just one warrior. Is that all ThunderClan could spare?" Despite her words, she was panting heavily.
Still, exhausting the RiverClan deputy wouldn't be enough to save Sunningrocks. Darkstripe was still trapped by two warriors and bleeding from his shoulders. Sandstorm's gaze flicked towards Willowpelt and Frostfur. The two mollies stood back to back as Blackclaw and Shadefang advanced on them.
We can't win without more cats, Sandstorm realized. The others are already tired, and Leopardfur won't give up unless we outnumber her. She took a step back from Leopardfur and lowered her gaze.
Leopardfur accepted Sandstorm's surrender with a dismissive hiss. "Leave. Before my cats tear that murderer to pieces."
Sandstorm swallowed and glanced at Darkstripe again. RiverClan is still angry about that warrior he killed. She nodded and lifted her head to yowl, "ThunderClan, retreat!"
Darkstripe, coward that he was, immediately spun on his paws and leaped through the two cats that had corned him. Willowpelt and Frostfur hesitated longer, sharing a startled glance before they too took off for the undergrowth.
Sandstorm turned to flee, but stopped as she heard Leopardfur's voice behind her. "Tell Thistlestar to not forget who the rightful owner of Sunningrocks is!"
Sandstorm bristled, but she did not reply. She bounded towards the tree line after her Clanmates, disappointment and worry swimming within her. Fox-dung! Thistlestar is going to lose it when we tell him. Her heart pounded as she raced into the undergrowth. What'll he do to us?
The ThunderClan patrol had stopped short after the border to lick their wounds. Darkstripe seemed to be the worst-off of the lot—aside from the wounds on his shoulders, he had a deep scratch running down his belly.
Willowpelt caught Sandstorm's eye. Her tail flicked with agitation. "Mouse-dung!" she cursed. "Thistlestar is going to shred us."
Darkstripe curled his lip. "It's not our fault!" he hissed. "Sandstorm called the retreat!"
Sandstorm bristled indignantly. "You were about to get gutted!"
"It's not Sandstorm's fault we lost Sunningrocks," Frostfur snapped. "We were outnumbered even with her." She glanced at Sandstorm, hope gleaming in her eyes. "Were you with another patrol before you found us?" she asked. "Maybe we can—"
Sandstorm quickly shook her head. "No—just me. Sorry."
Willowpelt sighed. "Well, we need to report this to Thistlestar."
Fear churned in Sandstorm's belly at the thought. He had clawed Brightpaw over slow training practice—what would he do to warriors that had lost territory?
Fireheart slipped back into camp quietly. He had groomed himself carefully and rolled in toadstools for good measure to rid himself of Sandstorm's scent. It took all his self-control to
keep his pelt flat. The knowledge that his Clanmates were out fighting Sandstorm at this moment… it made him uneasy.
In camp, many cats were out. A few warriors clung close to the reed barrier—likely waiting to come to the aid of the attackers if they needed it. Other warriors hung back, talking in small groups. He caught sight of Beechflower and Silverstream and grinned. Beechflower is up! At least one thing was going right today. He hurried to them, tail lifted in greeting. "Beechflower!" he purred. "How are you feeling?"
Beechflower smiled a little, but he remained crouched where he was. "I'm okay," he meowed. "My stomach isn't as bad as it's been the last couple days, but I'm still pretty tired."
Silverstream licked his cheek and pushed a small bird that had been between her paws towards him. "You're tired because you haven't been eating enough," she meowed. "Go ahead."
Beechflower glanced down at it frowned. "I'm not all that hungry, honestly."
Fireheart himself frowned at that. It's not like Beechflower to not be hungry, he thought.
Beechflower lifted his gaze to Fireheart. "Anyway, where were you? Leopardfur took a patrol out to Sunningrocks to take it back. She called for you, but Silverthorn said you'd already left your nest and gone out."
Fireheart blinked. Fox-dung! He thought. Of course Leopardfur wanted me the one night I stayed out! "I woke up really early," he quickly meowed. "So I went out for a walk. Leopardfur's taking back Sunningrocks?"
Beechflower nodded. "Crookedstar told her to do it."
Silverstream glanced towards the Medicine Cats' Den at the sound of her father's name. "Is that really wise?" she asked aloud. "I mean, if there's really illness going around, shouldn't we be focused on treating and preventing that, not making fresh wounds?"
Beechflower shrugged. "Mudfur says Crookedstar and I have something different, he thinks. Something about his vomit being different, I don't know."
Silverstream looked back at him, worry flashing in her eyes. "You never told me you were throwing up."
Beechflower winced. "I didn't want to worry you more."
Fireheart scuffed his paws uncomfortably as Silverstream sighed sharply. "Well, now I'm worried more!"
"Yellowfang said she would go out after the skirmish to meet with WindClan's medicine cat," Beechflower quickly meowed. "Something about overhearing him dealing with something similar before? I really don't understand the medicine cat speak." He twitched his whiskers. "Don't worry too much, okay?"
Silverstream narrowed her eyes, looking very much like she wanted to disagree. Before she could, though, a yowl from Mallowtail rang out. "The patrol is coming back!"
Fireheart turned his attention towards the reed barrier. A few moments later, the reeds parted as Leopardfur and her patrol padded into camp. All bore a few drying scratches and bites, but their heads were held high. Leopardfur gave a rare smile as she lifted her tail and cried out, "Sunningrocks is ours!"
Cats immediately broke into excited yowls. Any good news was desperately needed as of late, and the return of their hotly disputed territory was the best they could get, next to a sudden recovery by Crookedstar.
"RiverClan! RiverClan! RiverClan!" the cats chanted, as many rose to surround the victorious warriors. The patrol was briefly lost in a swarm of their Clanmates, who pressed around them and congratulated them.
A croaky voice rose above the rest, and all fell silent. "What's going on?"
Fireheart felt his heart leap as he turned and caught sight of Crookedstar. The old tom had hobbled out of the Medicine Cats' Den. His heart sank again as he actually took in what his leader looked like. His pelt was unkempt and his eyes seemed clouded and confused. Drool dripped from one side of his crooked jaw. "Leopardfur?" he rasped. "What's happening?"
Silverstream shot to her paws. "Father!" she exclaimed. "You're up!"
Crookedstar's head tipped towards his daughter, but he seemed so muddled that he nearly fell over in the process. Leopardfur pushed past her Clanmates to hurry to his side. "We have taken back Sunningrocks, as you asked," she reassured him.
"What?" Crookedstar demanded. He took a step towards her and his front legs gave under him. Cats gasped, and Silverstream hurriedly abandoned Beechflower and Fireheart to race to him. He was already trying to right himself by the time she reached him, but clearly struggling to do so. "No, no… I didn't… that isn't…" He stood and wobbled uneasily. "Didn't want… that!"
Leopardfur's eyes widened. "Don't you remember?" she meowed. "I came to you this morning with the report. You said it was time to take back Sunningrocks."
Crookedstar shook his head, but he looked so dazed that it was hard to tell if he really knew what was happening. "I don't…" he wheezed. "I don't remember that…"
Beechflower frowned as Silverstream and Leopardfur moved to support him on either side. "Poor Crookedstar," he meowed. "He seems so… out of it."
"He doesn't even remember asking Leopardfur to claim Sunningrocks?" Fireheart meowed. Just how sick is he? His pelt pricked with unease as he watched Crookedstar he led back into the Medicine Cats' Den. Crookedstar had always seemed so strong… but now he couldn't remember an order he had given that same morning.
What happens when he dies? Fireheart wondered. He flattened his ears self consciously as he realized he asked himself when, not if. The reality was no longer hypothetical. Even if Crookedstar recovered from this illness… he wouldn't live forever. Leopardfur would clearly rise to become leader in his place—but what did that mean for Fireheart?
I have to be more careful when she becomes leader, he thought. She won't hesitate to punish me if I step out of line. Fear creeped up his spine. Is this what it feels like for Sandstorm? This wasn't the first time he had worried about Leopardfur banishing him when she succeeded Crookedstar—the thought couldn't stop nagging at him. He swallowed and crouched down beside Beechflower. Everything is changing so fast… I just hope Leopardfur is satisfied enough when she's in charge to leave me alone.
