Bluefur had never fully understood what the term "deja vu" meant. Of course, she had a basic understanding of what it meant–the sensation that something had been experienced before wasn't too difficult to comprehend–but she had never experienced that for herself, and as such had no idea how it would feel.

Watching Fireheart stare longingly at the gorse tunnel as Tigerclaw's patrol disappeared from view, however, Bluefur was almost certain that she was about to find out.

"Bored?" she asked, padding over to sit beside her former apprentice.

"A little," Fireheart admitted. She cast a glance over to where Briarkit and Scorchkit were play-fighting happily. "Don't get me wrong, I love those little troublemakers and I would never wish that they hadn't been born. But it gets awfully dull sitting here in the camp all day. I mean, there are only so many times I can repeat the same stories over and over, and it's not like I could take them out of the camp."

Yep, she thought, shaking her head. Definitely deja vu.

The logical part of Bluefur's mind–or perhaps it wasn't so logical; she could never be sure herself–was screaming at her to leave before she did something she regretted. The look of a queen who just needed fresh air was all too familiar to her–as were the consequences of acquiescing to her wishes. Memories of Snowfur's battered body lying on the Thunderpath as the monster sped away, utterly unrepentant, flashed in Bluefur's mind, and it was all she could do not to flinch.

"Bluefur?" Fireheart's meow snapped the blue-gray warrior back to reality. "Are you alright?"

"What–oh! Yes, I'm fine," Bluefur replied quickly, giving her chest fur a few licks to smooth it down. "Don't worry about me."

"If you say so," Fireheart replied dubiously. She stretched her paws out in front of her and added, "Why don't we go for a walk? It's been a while since I've had a chance to see the territory."

Bluefur stared at the younger warrior. "Are–are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked.

"Come on, what's the worst that could happen?" the flame-colored molly asked cheerfully.

Bluefur winced. "Don't even make me answer that."

Fireheart just shook her head. "Look, if you're worried I'll catch a cold or something, I'm pretty sure I won't. I've spent enough time lying around all day that I'll probably be safe for the next five leaf-bare seasons. Besides, if I don't get out soon, I'm going to eat my nest."

Don't you dare! Bluefur's mind screamed at her. You know what happened last time. Do you want to be responsible for leading another queen to her death?

"Come on, we don't have to go far," Fireheart coaxed.

"Well..." Bluefur hesitated for a few heartbeats, then nodded. "Alright, then."

Things won't happen the same way, right? she tried to convince herself. As long as we avoid going anywhere near the Thunderpath, we shouldn't have anything to worry about.

After Fireheart had gotten her kits settled in with White-eye, the two mollies padded out into the forest. Mistyfoot and Mousefur were standing guard as they walked out, and the two warriors nodded to them in greeting. Bluefur returned their greeting with a flick of her tail, but Fireheart seemed more interested in the snow-covered trees than her Clanmates.

"Wow," she breathed, her eyes wide with amazement. "They're so pretty."

"They're just trees," Bluefur pointed out, although she couldn't help chuckling slightly.

Fireheart scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You're such a killjoy."

Bluefur narrowed her eyes playfully. "Oh, is that what you think?" she asked.

Then, before Fireheart had time to react, she pounced, pinning the flame-pelted queen in the snow. Fireheart let out a yowl of surprise and battered at Bluefur with her hind legs, but moons of being stuck in the camp had rendered her far from her strongest condition, and she was unable to throw her former mentor off.

"Get off! Alright, you win!" she protested, laughing.

"Do you admit that I'm not a killjoy?" Bluefur asked, keeping her former apprentice pinned down underneath her.

"Never!" Fireheart yowled. Then, with renewed strength, she kicked her hind legs into Bluefur's belly again. Caught by surprise, Bluefur was unable to steady herself in time and found herself toppling into the freezing white powder.

As she pulled herself up, Fireheart did the same, shaking snow out of her pelt. "Wow, I really need to get in better shape."

"Well, you have spent over six moons in the camp," Bluefur pointed out. "It's natural that you're not as strong as you usually are."

"Yeah, I'll be looking forward to when Briarkit and Scorchkit become apprentices," the younger molly meowed, a wistful expression on her face. "I don't think I'll be having any more kits for a long time after this."

"I don't blame you," Bluefur meowed sympathetically.

"What about you?" Fireheart asked, glancing over at her as she bounded over a log. "Would you ever want more kits?"

"I'm not sure," Bluefur admitted. Now that she had children of her own, she had to admit that there was a certain joy in raising them that couldn't be replaced by simple Clan duties. At the same time, however, she didn't think she would want to go through the stress of balancing her deputy duties and raising a litter of kits again. "I suppose if the time was right, I might want more...but I doubt that will ever happen. I've been too busy with helping Sunstar run the Clan."

That, and I probably couldn't have more kits even if I wanted, she added silently to herself. I can't risk another meeting with Oakheart, not now that his brother is RiverClan's leader and I'm next in line to succeed Sunstar. We can't afford to destroy our reputations like that. And Thrushpelt...

A pang of guilt hit her as she remembered how excited Thrushpelt had been when Mistyfoot, Stonefur, and Mosspetal were born. He had played the part of a proud father so convincingly, Bluefur was certain that if Thistleclaw had been there to witness it, not even he would have doubted his sincerity. It wasn't all acting, either–she could tell that he genuinely loved her kits. Yet as grateful as she was for his support, she couldn't help feeling guilty as well.

Bluefur wanted to love Thrushpelt. The sandy-gray tom was everything she should have wanted in a mate. He was a good warrior, kind, friendly with almost everyone, and always seemed to be putting everyone else's needs before his own. Oakheart was self-centered, egotistical, and didn't seem to care how his actions affected those around him. Yet somehow, it was him, not Thrushpelt, who had captured her attention.

Not that she was in love with Oakheart either, as she now realized. Her attraction to him had been borne of fascination due to his good looks and confident nature, not real love. When Bluefur thought about it, the way she had supposedly "fallen" for Oakheart wasn't all that different from the way Snowfur had fallen in love with Thistleclaw. The only difference was that Oakheart wasn't needlessly cruel or violent–and not to mention that he would never, ever consider manipulating an apprentice the way Thistleclaw had done to Spottedleaf.

A flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye caught Bluefur's attention. Turning her head, she saw Fireheart standing a few tail-lengths away, a squirrel clamped triumphantly in her jaws.

"Well done," Bluefur purred.

"Thanks," Fireheart meowed happily. She buried the squirrel underneath a small pile of snow and bounded away. "Come on, the next one's on you!"

As cliche as it sounded, Bluefur wasn't entirely sure of what happened within the next few heartbeats. She watched as Fireheart padded further away, her ears pricked for any sign of prey. Despite being out of shape, she looked as normal as ever, if a bit heavier than Bluefur was used to seeing. Her fur was fluffed out against the cold, but her head was raised proudly and there was a joyous glint in her eyes at being outside again.

Then suddenly, without warning, she collapsed on the ground, unconscious.