Velvet flashed past the bushes, and a cat crashed on Manglethorn. Laurelleaf stared as Vixentail appeared, slashing Manglethorn repeatedly on his face. Her fierce blows caused Manglethorn to fall backward, his face bleeding from a million scratches. Fur flew in every direction, carrying lumps of flesh and blood as they sprawled out on the ground. Laurelleaf was too tired and hurt to say anything, but he mouthed, "Vixentail?" The tough red she-cat slashed Manglethorn several more times, then turned around fiercely and kicked Manglethorn in the face. Manglethorn, with blood all over his pelt, gasped and backed away. At last he fled, Vixentail snarling after him as he ran into the bushes, a trail of fresh blood behind him. His agonized coughing could be heard as he crashed deeper into the lush undergrowth, and the noise he made soon grew fainter, and fainter, and fainter until it was no more to the rumbling on the Thunderpath and hooting of owls.
A quiet night breeze whispered over the two cats. Laurelleaf turned around slightly and gazed at Vixentail. A surge of pain hit his sides, and he suddenly remembered how wounded he was.
The velvet she-cat's tail was lashing, and Laurelleaf could see the old wounds he inflicted quite a long time ago still on her pelt. However, they were healed, and he wondered who healed them. His head was still in the pool of blood when Vixentail padded up to him, panting lightly. Wind ruffled her thick fur and moonlight made her pelt shine blood-red. Laurelleaf felt like he was about to die in pain, but he still forced out his question as he panted heavily. "Why?"
"I'm sorry," Vixentail said.
Surprised from the unexpected reply, Laurelleaf looked up at the velvet she-cat. "What?" He asked, and she placed a paw next to Laurelleaf. "I shouldn't have attacked you," she meowed. "And I hope you forgive me."
She disappeared behind a bush and later came out with some seeds on the tip of her tongue. "Eat those," she demanded and dropped it next to Laurelleaf. It took him a moment to realize it was a pile of poppy seeds, and he quietly licked up the black seeds. "Thank you," he meowed. Vixentail looked at him for a while longer. "Your Clanmates will come soon," she meowed. Then she ran, the tip of her velvet tail disappearing among the bushes.
When Laurelleaf woke again, he was in the medicine den and beside Larkwing. Flowersight was watching him by the medicine den, and Windyfrost by the other. A warm ray of sunlight dappled the floor and lightened the grass. Snow tipped the heathers outside camp, which casted a grayish-pink shadow. A few wisps of cloud covered the sky, like feathers of the morning light. "You're awake!" Windyfrost exclaimed. She bent her head and licked Laurelleaf's head fur furiously. "You've been asleep for several days!" "Several days?" Laurelleaf exclaimed, and he nearly leaped up when Larkwing pressed him down firmly. "You don't want to reopen your belly wound," Larkwing meowed. "Wait here. I'm going to call Gorsestar."
While the Larkwing and Flowersight scrambled outside, Windyfrost remained. Laurelleaf gazed up at his former mentor and asked, "What happened?"
"Have you lost your mind?" Windyfrost exclaimed. "We found you completely unconscious and dead-looking by the side of the Thunderpath and all went crazy worrying over you. You smelled of so many different scents, WindClan and ShadowClan and ThunderClan and rogue and blood. But what happened to you? And what were you thinking? We were all so worried that you might be dead!"
"What happened to Midgepelt then?" Laurelleaf asked. Windyfrost, her face stern when Laurelleaf ignored her question, licked her muzzle a few times. "We buried him," she said finally. "Don't worry. He was in StarClan now with Swiftrabbit and Grasswhisker." "Grasswhisker..." Laurelleaf. murmured. His mother. His long-lost mother.
Soon Gorsestar burst into the medicine den, looking around. Larkwing led him to Laurelleaf, who stared dully into the ceiling. "Laurelleaf!" Gorsestar exclaimed. "Nice to see that you're finally awake!" "Hi, Gorsestar," Laurelleaf tried dipping his head. It did not work. The golden-furred tabby tom walked up a fox-length away from Laurelleaf. He angled his ears so it was facing Laurelleaf, then he blurted out the first, obvious question: "Who did this to you?"
"The cat who killed of Midgepelt and Swiftrabbit," Laurelleaf answered. His heart seethed with faint rage, but he felt too sore and tired to get mad right now. "The cat who lured Silverhawk to WindClan and accused ShadowClan. The cat who killed my mother and almost killed me twice. The cat who took Wingkit and Bearkit hostages to lure my father and the deputy to their deaths. Manglethorn, for StarClan's sake, Gorsestar! The cat who have been training with an evil spirit at night and sharing evil secrets! The cat who killed my only family member left. The cat who tried to destroy WindClan—Manglethorn." Gorsestar's eyes widened, and for a moment everybody were speechless. "And I don't think the battle was won yet," Laurelleaf continued grimly. "Manglethorn ran away. He left me injured by the side of the Thunderpath."
"Shush," Gorsestar mewed and stood up. "You need rest."
"Do you believe me?" Laurelleaf asked. You're one of my only chances of changing the future, he thought desperately. Innerly, he wanted to call to Brightspirit like a helpless kit for her to help him with everything that was happening.
Gorsestar turned to him. "I will think about it," he answered.