Sandstorm watched as Darkstripe, Mistyfoot, and Addertail dragged Thistlestar's body farther and farther out into the woods. She stood there quietly, watching, until they disappeared into the ferns. All that remained of Thistlestar was the dark smears of his blood in the grass.

Dustpelt nudged her. "Let's go back into camp," he murmured. He looked as in shock as Sandstorm felt. He had a faraway look in his eye, yet every hair on his pelt stood on end.

Sandstorm nodded wordlessly, and together they turned back towards the gorse tunnel. Most of the other warriors had already turned back into camp, but Frostfur and Willowpelt remained. Frostfur's ears were back, her head low. Willowpelt, however, had been watching with narrowed eyes. She blinked as Sandstorm and Dustpelt padded towards the gorse tunnel, as though pulled out of a trance.

Sandstorm paused a moment and caught her gaze. "He's gone." The words were hollow. She wasn't sure why she felt compelled to inform Willowpelt of the matter—of course the warrior knew Thistlestar was dead and gone. She wasn't sure why such a heavy weight seemed to be pressing down on her shoulders now that the whole event was over.

Like all the others, she had been caught up in the frenzy to take down Thistlestar as he fled from the camp… but now, she just felt heavy, strangely exhausted for it still being the morning.

Willowpelt nodded. "Yeah…" She glanced over her shoulder into the camp. For a moment, her gaze was distant, seeming to reflect the strange way Sandstorm felt. Then her eyes narrowed again. "Good riddance." She flicked an ear. "It was good of you to speak up like you did. The Clan needed the push."

Sandstorm shifted her paws, uncomfortable with the praise. "Thank you," she murmured.

Frostfur looked nervous. She pressed against Willowpelt, her gaze uneasy. "What about Tigerclaw?" she whispered. "I hated Thistlestar—but can we trust him?"

Dustpelt curled his lip at her. "Of course we can!" he exclaimed. "He wouldn't go through the trouble of getting rid of Thistlestar just to be the exact same as him." He flicked his tail. "I don't like that he brought those rogues in to fight, but… I'd still take him over Thistlestar."

The rogues, Sandstorm remembered. She shot Willowpelt a look of concern. "What do you think he's going to do with them?" she asked. "Some of them are still there."

Willowpelt's eyes widened. "I hadn't noticed," she admitted. Her voice was edged with a growl as she added, "Let's hope he sends them off."

"Did you hear what that tom said?" Frostfur asked. "I thought he mentioned a 'debt'."

Sandstorm kneaded her paws anxiously. StarClan… I hope you're watching over us, she thought. I just hope we aren't walking into a real fight, if Tigerclaw can't give the rogues whatever it is they want. She stepped past Willowpelt, heading into the gorse tunnel. "I'm going to find out."

She padded through the tunnel and stopped at the top of the ravine. Sandstorm peered down into camp, feeling cautious. It felt like only moments ago that it had been swept through by war—but now, all was quiet. Cats hung together in small groups, looking haggard and wary. Sandstorm caught sight of a few of the rogues, still sitting silently. They were positioned near the Highrock. Tigerclaw stood nearby, speaking to them.

What's he doing? Sandstorm swallowed uneasily. She padded down the slope into camp as Tigerclaw turned away from the group and leaped up onto the Highrock.

He let out a yowl. "All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Most cats were already in the open, but a few crept quietly from the dens. They turned their attention to Tigerclaw while sticking in the small groups where they sat. Some eyed the rogues with fear or outright disgust. As Sandstorm padded to sit, followed by Dustpelt, Frostfur, and Willowpelt, she heard Speckletail let out a loud hiss.

"Those rogues!" the old queen spat. "What are they still doing here?" Speckletail stood up, her eyes burning with defiance. Tigerclaw parted his jaws to speak, but before he could, she bristled with fury. "I recognize some of them—ShadowClanners!"

"She's right!" Mousefur growled. "Are we just going to pretend that isn't Brokenstar's old deputy?"

Blackfoot peered at her from the group of rogues through narrowed eyes, but he did not scowl. He seemed to be sizing her up. Sandstorm stiffened as she noticed him look her up and down. I swear, if that mange-pelt takes one step towards anyone….

More cats began to hiss with distress. Tigerclaw lashed his tail. "Allow me to explain!" he loudly meowed. "These cats are not our enemies." He glanced down towards the group of outsiders. "It is true—Blackfoot, Stumpytail, and Mottlepelt were all once ShadowClan warriors. I found them hunting at the edge of the road some time ago. I will let them speak for themselves, if you will all allow it, but I believe that they have regretted their choices."

The elders muttered together for a heartbeat. One-eye looked up towards Tigerclaw and gave him a stiff nod. "Very well," she rasped. "They may speak."

Sandstorm glanced the elder's way and found that her eye was narrowed with suspicion. They don't trust them, but they're not willing to drive them off quite yet. Her tail twitched nervously. Would they put up a fight if we sent them off?

Blackfoot spoke up first. "I was Brokenstar's deputy," he growled. "I carried out his orders like the warrior code demanded of me." He curled his tail around his paws. Though the other rogues with him looked nervous, he betrayed no anxiety. "I'm not happy with the things he made us do. But I won't keep being punished for his crimes." He curled his lip, revealing sharp teeth. "I never laid a claw on a kit."

One of his companions, the tortoiseshell Sandstorm had fought earlier, shot him a worried look. "I—I think what Blackfoot means to say, is… we made the wrong choice to follow him." She looked out towards Thunderclan. "The code isn't perfect. It says the leader's word is law, but if the leader does something against the code… what are we supposed to do?"

Stumpytail nodded. "That's why we agreed to help Tigerclaw," he meowed. "By the sound of it, Thistlestar was a bad leader, too. But you didn't rise up on your own, just like ShadowClan didn't. We thought that maybe, if we helped get rid of one tyrant… it might make up for our mistakes with the last one."

Sandstorm blinked. Her gaze flickered back and forth from Blackfoot to the tortoiseshell. Blackfoot's arrogance was clear in his expression—but so was the sincerity of the tortoiseshell. She swallowed. We all stood by when Thistlestar had that RiverClanner thrown in the river. And we went along with all his battles… only Dustpelt stood up to him when he almost killed Bluefur. She looked down at her paws, an ugly feeling of uncertainty and guilt beginning to swirl in her belly. Are we so different from them? A few cats began to whisper to one another.

Dustpelt glanced at her. "Just wait," he muttered. "Two mice says they're going to want to join ThunderClan."

Sandstorm shot her friend an irritated look. "How can you be trying to make a bet right now?"

"What about the other ones?" Thrushpelt asked. "They're not all ShadowClanners, are they?"

"No," Tigerclaw replied. "Snag and Mowgli here are rogues." He flicked his tail to indicate the cats as he named them. "But they are all rogues now. Their past in ShadowClan is behind them." He paused for a moment, before he looked to the elders again. "I have long been speaking to them on the border, I will admit. But I truly believe they regret their past and wish to make up for it. I offered them a place in our Clan if they helped remove Thistlestar from power."

"Told you," Dustpelt whispered. Sandstorm nearly swatted him.

"What?!" Mousefur demanded, her voice a snarl. "You can't just bring in a gang of rogues!"

Patchpelt's eyes were narrowed. "I know some of the exiles harmed kits," he spat. "I speak with ShadowClan elders at gatherings!"

Blackfoot met the elder's gaze. "Clawface," he hissed in return. "Clawface harmed kits."

"And where is he?" Halftail demanded. "That mange-pelt won't set foot in my Clan!"

The tortoiseshell flattened her ears. "Dead," she announced.

Stumpytail curled his lips. "I had kits of my own, you know," he growled. "We're not exactly fans of kit-killers ourselves."

Blackfoot nodded. "He came skulking back to our group not long after our exile," he meowed, darkly. "We saw to it he wouldn't bother anyone again."

Sandstorm swallowed. Are all ShadowClan cats so candid? Or are they really just cold killers?

Speckletail stood up. "I lost one of my kits in that invasion," she hissed. She shut her eyes. "Mistlekit… I think it was that Clawface that took her. It wasn't Brokenstar…" She opened her eyes again and looked up at Tigerclaw, her brow furrowed. "If they gutted that monster, I don't care if they stay or not."

Tigerclaw gave her a grateful nod. "Cats of ThunderClan, I know the day has been a shock to you all," he meowed. "And these cats are strangers to you. But they have spent much time in exile, and they are ready to resume the path of a warrior."

"Or start it," One of the rogues added. He was a large brown tom, nearly rivalling Blackfoot in size. When he closed his jaws, Sandstorm saw that many of his teeth still stuck out. There was an eager look in his eyes. The darker tom beside him, the other true rogue, nodded.

"Give us a moment," One-eye meowed. The elders turned away and spoke quietly. The queens, Speckletail, Brindleface, Whitecloud, and Goldenflower, padded over and joined them.

Sandstorm glanced at Willowpelt and Frostfur as the Clan waited. What do they think? She wondered. Frostfur looked unsure, and Willowpelt was staring at the rogues, seemingly mulling over the decision.

Dustpelt nudged her. "Say something," he growled. "Everyone listened last time."

That was after Bluefur and Whitecloud spoke up, Sandstorm thought. She narrowed her eyes at him. "What exactly do you want me to say?" she whispered back.

"Tell him not to let them stay!" Dustpelt retorted.

Is that what I think? Sandstorm hesitated. She wasn't sure. I don't think I want rogues in my Clan. But what happens if we say no? There's a lot of them. I'm not sure they'll just walk off happily when Tigerclaw doesn't give them what they want. She looked towards the elders and queens. Brindleface was shaking her head, bristling, while Goldenflower was murmuring to her. "It's not for me to decide," she finally replied. "Brokenstar's cats threatened kits. The queens' opinions matter more than mine."

"Mouse-brain," Dustpelt hissed. "You'll never get cats to respect you by keeping it to yourself."

Sandstorm let out an irritated growl. "Why don't you say something, Dustpelt?"

"Shh!" Willowpelt hissed. "Keep quiet, both of you."

Dustpelt scoffed quietly and turned away. Sandstorm found herself feeling a burst of anger towards him, and had to look the other way. What's wrong with him? She wondered. I thought we were friends. Why is he turning into such a mousebrain?

After a few more moments, One-eye cleared her throat. "We've come to a decision."

Sandstorm looked over the group. Brindleface and Patchpelt were bristling with anger, but the other cats looked indifferent or determined. They didn't all agree, she realized.

"They may stay," One-eye rasped. "But at the first sign of trouble, they must be banished."

"Very good," Tigerclaw replied. "I'm sure they will be an asset to the Clan."

Dustpelt hissed quietly. Mousefur let out a furious snarl. A few others muttered dubiously, but no one yowled in protest.

Tigerclaw continued, "Then let it be known that these cats are no longer exiles and outsiders." He turned to them, his head held high. "Each of you must swear loyalty to ThunderClan and to the warrior code. Former ShadowClanners, I absolve you of your past—so long as you are true to your word and to your new Clan."

Blackfoot spoke for them all. "ShadowClan is behind us," he growled. "We follow you now, Tigerclaw."

Tigerclaw nodded his approval, but Sandstorm blinked. He didn't swear loyalty to ThunderClan… she thought. He gives his loyalty to Tigerclaw.

"Snag, Mowgli," Tigerclaw called. "Do each of you swear to uphold the warrior code and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

The cat with protruding teeth lifted a brow, as though amused by the question. "Yes," he meowed.

The second rogue looked a little more genuinely eager. He lifted his tail. "I do!"

"Then I give you your warrior names," Tigerclaw went on. "Snag, you will be known as Jaggedtooth. Mowgli, you will be known as Nightshade." The words weren't quite right, but no one felt compelled to correct their new leader.

Easy to know which is which now… Sandstorm thought. Jaggedtooth… I don't like the look of him. Jaggedtooth smirked at his new name. Unlike Nightshade, who was practically skin-and-bones, Jaggedtooth was as muscled as Blackfoot, and with twice the scars. He must've seen a lot of fights.

No one cheered for their new warriors. Sandstorm was aware of her fur bristling slightly. The air was thick with tension. How many of the elders and queens actually wanted them here? She wondered. Or were they just worried about what would happen if we kicked them out?

If Tigerclaw noticed the Clan's unease, he didn't call attention to it. Instead, he sat down on the rock once more. "Finally, I should depart for the Moonstone soon. Before I go, I will announce my choice for deputy." He paused for a moment, and Sandstorm held her breath.

Darkstripe has always been by his side… she thought. But he wouldn't pick him, would he?

Tigerclaw flicked his tail. "Bluefur will be the next deputy."

Bluefur? Sandstorm found herself surprised again. If I were placing bets like Dustpelt, that's not what I would've guessed… She couldn't remember a time the pair had agreed; but, then again, it had always seemed that Tigerclaw and Thistlestar were on the same side—the side Bluefur opposed. If Tigerclaw challenged him, maybe there's more in common between them than it seems.

Bluefur looked caught off-guard herself. She was quiet for a few moments, her jaws parted slightly. "I… I do not know what to say," she meowed. "I have always challenged you and Thistlestar. Why me?"

"The Clan respects you," Tigerclaw evenly replied. "As do I, even if we don't always see eye-to-eye. You have experience that the Clan can lean on in these changing times."

Willowpelt nodded firmly. "A good choice," she muttered. "She'd better accept."

Frostfur smiled, looking relieved. "She'll be a good deputy," she agreed. She had been Bluefur's apprentice, once.

A ripple of approving murmurs spread through the Clan. Bluefur, being now the most senior warrior in the Clan, did have the respect of all. She looked around for a moment, eyes wide, before she took a breath and nodded. "Very well," she meowed. "I don't know how many more seasons of work I have left to give—but I will do my best to serve this Clan as deputy."

"Bluefur!" Thrushpelt yowled.

The rest of the Clan took up the cry. "Bluefur! Bluefur! Bluefur!"

Tigerclaw allowed the chant to go on for a few more moments before he spoke up again. "I must travel to the Moonstone," he meowed. "I'll leave now and find Ravenpaw." He nodded to Bluefur. "I leave the Clan to you until I return." With that, he leaped down from the Highrock.

Voices were lifted in a more excited chatter, and many cats hurried to Bluefur's side to congratulate her. Sandstorm stayed where she was, her ears folded back in thought. Bluefur is a popular cat… she thought. She has everyone's respect. Did Tigerclaw pick her to soothe the Clan even more? Unease crept up her spine, and she tried to push the thought aside. It doesn't matter why. She'll be a voice of reason with power, now. That's what matters.

Sandstorm glanced towards Dustpelt, curious as to his reaction about Bluefur, but he was already on his paws and padding away to the Warriors' Den. She rolled her eyes and groaned loudly. "Bee-brain!" she growled. I don't know what's gotten into him. She lifted her gaze and caught sight of the rogues once more. Blackfoot and Jaggedtooth were talking quietly. Jaggedtooth still had an odd, unnerving smirk, while Blackfoot looked stoic as ever. Stumpytail, Mottlepelt, and Nightshade were sitting quietly, looking around, tails twitching nervously.

Sandstorm frowned. So that's it? She thought. They just… get to be warriors? Her claws slid out and dug into the soft earth. StarClan… what a day. Thistlestar's eviscerated body flashed in her mind, and she winced. I never thought I'd see the day he was gone… and not like that. Between that and the rogues… what's going to happen now?

Fireheart's muscles ached as he pushed mud into place around the base of the Warriors' Den. The young RiverClan warriors had spent all morning rebuilding the den. While Silverstream, Grasspelt, and Shadefang wove together reed stalks and downed branches, he and Silverthorn were shoring up the bottom with a thick base of mud.

Fireheart paused for a moment to examine his work, breathing heavily. I think we're nearly done. It's just the bedding now. Minktuft and Shadefang were out collecting bedding moss with a few other willing paws.

Silverthorn sat down with a loud thump. His legs were caked with wet sand and mud. "I'm beat," he huffed, before he glanced towards the river. It was in plain view now that the reed barrier had been wiped out. "Where's Leopardfur?"

"Still not back," Grasspelt replied. Being the smallest and lightest of the lot, she was perched on the roof of the den, pushing the ends of a few stalks into place and tucking moss around them to patch holes. "StarClan knows when she'll get here. What if something happened to them on the way back?"

Fireheart frowned. What would we even do if she went missing? He wondered. I guess Blackclaw would become leader, then… what a mess that would be. He glanced across camp. Blackclaw was sitting near the dwindling fresh-kill pile, doling out pieces of prey to small groups of cats as they finished their work. He flattened his ears. I know we're low on food… but he should send out some patrols or go hunting himself instead of sitting around rationing for everyone!

A yowl rang out from Mossfrost, who was on sentry duty. "Leopardfur's back!"

All cats stopped what they were doing and became quiet, waiting for their leader's return.

There's still a chance she's not leader, Fireheart half-heartedly reminded himself. If Crookedstar is still out there, somewhere… she said StarClan would turn them away.

Leopardfur came into sight as she padded into camp. Though she looked tired, she kept her head held high. She nodded wordlessly to Mossfrost as she passed her.

Dawnwhisker was at her side in a flash. The warrior pressed against her, twining her tail with her mate's. "You were gone so long," she meowed. "What happened? Did they tell you about Crookedstar, or…"

Leopardfur quickly touched her nose to Dawnwhisker's cheek before she pulled away. She raised her voice to address all of RiverClan. "I am Leopardstar now," she announced. "StarClan has given me my lives and name. Crookedstar walks with our ancestors."

Fireheart felt his heart sink. Others bowed their heads in sorrow. A few cats murmured their congratulations to Leopardstar, but it was a solemn welcome for her.

A sharp twitch of her tail was the only sign that Leopardstar was unimpressed with how the news was received. She looked around the camp. "I'm glad to see you've been hard at work repairing the dens," she meowed. "Although…" Leopardstar glanced towards Blackclaw. "Why is there hardly any fresh-kill? It's past sun-high. It should be stocked." There was a hard edge to her voice that made Fireheart bristle nervously.

Blackclaw blinked and jolted to sit up straight. "I… I had almost everyone working on the dens, Leopardstar," he stammered. "No one's had the free paws…"

Leopardstar narrowed her eyes. "Cats don't need to sleep until sundown," she retorted. "They do, however, need to eat. Especially our elders and queens. Have they been fed?"

Blackclaw's rapid blinking continued. "I, well, I don't know—"

"You don't know?" Leopardstar demanded.

Fireheart felt a painful sense of awkwardness and he felt the need to shift his gaze away from Blackclaw. He didn't like the warrior… but something about the interrogation felt uncomfortable. Other cats were scuffing paws or looking away. What's going on? Fireheart wondered. She should be… you know… leading her Clan… not nitpicking Blackclaw.

"I…" Blackclaw, though he was usually a fierce cat, looked like he might faint.

Mallowtail took a step forward to stand closer to him. "I brought the queens fresh-kill, Leopardstar," she meowed. "It's nothing to worry about."

Leopardstar did not remove her gaze from Blackclaw. "I should hope it won't be," she replied. "Blackclaw, you'd better learn to keep better track of RiverClan's affairs."

For StarClan's sake… Fireheart winced. I don't exactly feel bad for him… but it's like she wants to be leader and deputy. Blackclaw's only had a day of these new duties!

Leopardstar lashed her tail and turned away, padding straight for the leader's den. Dawnwhisker watched her go, a puzzled expression on her face. Fireheart narrowed his eyes curiously as he caught sight of his former mentor. So she does notice when Leopardstar is off… why doesn't she ever say anything?

Silverthorn let out a sigh of relief. "I thought that would never end," he muttered. "Serves him right."

Fireheart rolled his eyes. He ignored the comment and glanced at Silverthorn. "Are we done?"

Grasspelt answered for him. "I think so!" She leaped off the den and landed between them. "I'm going to get some fresh-kill, if Blackclaw will 'let' me." She snorted, as though the idea was amusing to her. "Either of you want to come?"

"No thanks," Silverthorn quickly replied. "We have some more mud to patch up."

What? Fireheart wanted to groan. Where? His moon as a temporary tunneler might've given him some experience pushing around dirt, but he didn't enjoy it.

Grasspelt shrugged. "Suit yourselves." She turned and padded off towards Blackclaw.

Fireheart sighed. "Where do we—"

"Want to split something?" Silverthorn suddenly meowed. "I have some leftover rabbit from this morning."

Fireheart blinked. "You… want to share fresh-kill… with me?" The two hadn't talked since their random fishing attempt together, and while it seemed to have ease their tension, it hadn't made them friends.

Silverthorn scowled. "Oh, don't act so full of yourself," he grumbled. "I have to talk to you about something."

Mystified, Fireheart nodded. "Well… okay."

Silverthorn led him over to the back of the Warriors' Den, where a willow tree stood. Tucked under a root was a half-eaten, sodden rabbit. Fireheart frowned at the sight of it. It's not the most appetizing meal… but prey's prey, I guess.

Silverthorn pulled out the fresh-kill and took a bite. He pushed it silently towards Fireheart. The ginger tom bent down and tore off a chunk of meat. It wasn't horribly stringy, and was fresher than he thought it would be. Must've been drowned in the flood, Fireheart thought. We don't usually catch rabbits.

They both chewed silently for a few moments. Fireheart swallowed, then waited. When Silverthorn said nothing, he leaned closer. "So… what did you want to talk about?"

Silverthorn suddenly became very interested in the mangled rabbit. His brow furrowed, and his ears twitched backwards. "I've been thinking," he meowed. "About what you said."

What I said? Fireheart wanted to groan again. Just spit it out! I don't even know what you're talking about.

Silverthorn scuffed his paws, clearly uncomfortable. "About looking for my father."

Fireheart blinked. "Oh," he meowed. He didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah," Silverthorn mumbled. "I… I dunno. I did want to before you brought it up. But I didn't really take the idea seriously." He twitched his tail. "And then with the flood and everything and… all the cats we lost… it brought it back up."

The flood? Fireheart frowned inquisitively.

Silverthorn's eyes narrowed. "He killed my mother," he hissed. "I want to look him in the eye and ask how he could do that." His voice was edged with a dark growl. "And then… I don't know."

Fireheart felt an uncomfortable twinge in his belly. Silverthorn had tried to kill him once—but couldn't do it. Could he if it was his father? Fireheart wondered. Is that what he wants to do? He shifted his paws. "Do you even know anything about him?" he asked.

"I know his name," Silverthorn growled. "My adoptive mother told me that much." He paused for a moment and looked away. "I don't know. I just think… It's just something I need to do. It's whatever if you don't want to help. I'd get it."

Fireheart felt strangely sympathetic for Silverthorn. I'd decided a while ago that I would forgive him for what happened at the bridge, he thought. I know he didn't really want to kill me… he just blamed 'kittypets' for what happened to his mother. He curled his tail around himself. But he's never been kind to me, even before that. He narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin. "Alright, Silverthorn," he meowed. "But I have some conditions."

Silverthorn stared back at him. "Conditions?"

"No more names or teasing," Fireheart firmly meowed. "You don't have to be my best friend, but if I go back there and help you find him, you're not going to be a complete fox to me anymore."

Silverthorn briefly looked taken aback, but he brushed it off with a shrug. "I haven't called you names in a while," he grumbled. "I didn't forget that you fought that dog, even after… you know." He met Fireheart's gaze again. "But sure. I'll play nice."

Fireheart nodded, satisfied. I can't believe it was that easy, he thought. Who knows if he'll follow through, but… makes me feel like less of a minnow-brain for helping him. "Deal, then."

"When things settle down, I'll be ready to go," Silverthorn meowed. "In a couple days, maybe." He stood up and pushed the remains of the rabbit towards Fireheart. "You can finish this."

Fireheart watched as he turned and padded away without another word. He crouched down by the rabbit and tore off another place. Back to the town… he chewed slowly, thoughtfully. I didn't really think I'd ever go back there. My old house is so far away… I never had a reason to go. Am I really ready to go back?

Reviews:

Kudossi - Thank you! Yeah, I found it strange that they just... kept following her post Stonefur-murder. I'm so desperate for a Leopardstar SE/novella so we can see her side of things. She's such an interesting character to me, even if she let some bad things happen.

animenerd26 - It seemed like a few people had some suspicions! I've had a hard time not revealing it... It's a headcanon I've had for a while that Leopardstar in canon had something to do with Crookedstar's death.

9 - Thank you! Tigerclaw knows how to work over a crowd! And yes, Snowkit will have a mentor! Hopefully this chapter eased your worries about Darkstripe, haha. Tigerclaw knows his loyalists but he also, uh... knows Darkstripe is a coward with zero respect in the Clan.

SedatedDreams - All of ThunderClan is going to be dealing with those same contradicting feelings :)! Tigerclaw's got his problems, but he's not Thistlestar, which... is a plus for many cats.

Simitria - Tigerclaw's been planting that seed about Stonefur for a while now! It was kind of subtle, but when he brings up that Stonefur died in a fight for more territory, it was what set off Bluefur against Thistlestar when she got home. It was technically an accident that he died, but not so much an accident that he was put in one of the more dangerous positions in a pretty pointless battle.

Riley-Cooper123: Mousefur believed Thistlestar was attacking Tigerclaw because she hadn't seen who started the fight and it was known Thistle had had some violent outbursts against Clanmates already. But now she's pretty solidly against Tigerclaw, lol. Mousefur is a stickler for rules, and she isn't a fan of bending them, even if it means a 'better' leader.

Thank you to everyone else who reviewed!