"Bluestar?" Sandstorm called, peering into the crack in the Highrock. She saw a shape stir inside.

"Come in."

Sandstorm padded into the Leader's Den, dipping her head respectfully to Bluestar. "Good morning," she meowed.

"Is it really morning already?" Bluestar muttered, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She yawned briefly, blinking away sleep. "Have you sorted patrols?"

Fox-dung! Sandstorm cursed. "No—sorry." She had forgotten all about the actual duties of deputyship.

"It's alright," Bluestar meowed, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "I know I surprised you, and you're a nursing queen. I can continue sorting patrols while you're nursing."

Sandstorm felt herself hesitate. She had come to ask about the battle with BloodClan—but she had another question that she had been chewing on since her ceremony. "Bluestar, why me?" Hurriedly, she added. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful. I just didn't think I was ready."

Bluestar let out a purr. "Sandstorm, you were the first cat I thought of," she meowed. "You have always been a dedicated warrior, and you've often spoken up when your Clan needed it." Her gaze softened. "It's about time you started using that voice more often."

Sandstorm was flooded with warmth. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'll do my best, I swear."

"Good," Bluestar replied.

"That's not really what I came to talk about, though," Sandstorm quickly meowed. She straightened up. "I think we should fight BloodClan."

Bluestar's eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Sandstorm nodded. "I spoke to Fireheart of RiverClan yesterday. He says WindClan is already planning to go to war, and he's going to try and get RiverClan to fight, too."

"Any word on ShadowClan?" Bluestar asked.

Sandstorm shrugged. "I have no idea," she meowed. "But I don't want to run away. I want to fight for our territory."

Bluestar twitched her whiskers. "I'm glad you say that," she meowed. "I have come to the same conclusion." She straightened up, her head held high. "The battle will be dangerous," she meowed. "Tigerstar never gave me any details on BloodClan, but it's clear there's many of them, and that they're capable fighters." A heartbeat later, she frowned.

"What is it?" Sandstorm asked.

Bluestar let out a quiet sigh. "I am a leader only in name," she meowed. "I have not yet gone to the Moonstone."

Sandstorm bristled at the realization. "Bluestar!" she hissed. "You need to go get your nine lives!"

Bluestar shook her head. "We don't know if BloodClan is still in the territories," she meowed. "They may still be skulking around Fourtrees." She looked down, her eyes dark. "I don't want to throw my life away for the chance of more. I will go into battle as any other warrior."

Sandstorm's eyes widened. "Bluestar," she meowed. "ThunderClan needs you. You can't get yourself killed."

"Exactly," Bluestar meowed. "I won't risk wasting everything for the journey. I want to be here, among my Clanmates." She smiled sadly. "Sandstorm, I am very old. If I survive the battle, I will go to the Moonstone… but if not, the Clan will look to you."

Sandstorm took a step back. "I'm not ready," she whispered. "I haven't even been deputy for a whole day!"

"StarClan will guide you," Bluestar meowed. "You'll need to rely on the wisdom of the elders and senior warriors, but you'll find your paws. I'm sure of it. I wouldn't have made you my deputy if I doubted you."

Sandstorm's tongue felt dry. Bluestar was talking as though she were already dying. Grief tore at Sandstorm's heart. "I won't let you die," she fiercely swore. "You are ThunderClan's leader, and my duty is to serve you."

"I appreciate your loyalty," Bluestar murmured. She closed her eyes. "Please, let me rest. Perhaps StarClan will share something with me, now that I am leader."

Sandstorm prayed that they would. They should tell you to go to them! She lashed her tail once, frustrated with Bluestar's stubbornness. Deep down, she admired her courage, and understood her reservations… but ThunderClan needed their leader now more than ever.

I'll protect you when the time comes, she silently swore.

Fireheart was certain this idea was perhaps his most foolish. As he stared up at the fence, he felt a stab of doubt.

"Well?" Silverthorn meowed, standing by his side. "Are we or aren't we?"

Fireheart had woken that morning with a sense of resolve. Leopardstar still hadn't left her den since Tigerstar's death—not once. But perhaps there was another way to solve the matter at paw with BloodClan.

"I'm going to find Scourge and Princess," Fireheart had told Silverthorn that morning. "I've got to talk them out of this."

"Of course you are," Silverthorn had retorted with a roll of his eyes. "Well, don't think I'll let you go alone."

Fireheart felt a flash of gratitude for Silverthorn as he glanced at him. Silverthorn was the only other cat that had seen BloodClan's camp and had met Princess and Scourge before. He was glad to have him by his side today. "Let's go," he meowed. He crouched before he sprang up to the top of the fence, wobbling for a moment before gaining his footing.

Silverthorn leaped up a heartbeat later. The yard before them was unassuming and quiet. Good. Fireheart was hardly in the mood to be stalled by kittypets—friendly or unfriendly—on their journey. He knew going into BloodClan's territory just before war was risky… but his littermates had to listen to reason. They were willing to strike a deal with Tigerstar before, he thought. Surely there's some way we can resolve things peacefully?

The pair walked on together, briskly heading deeper into town. They stuck to the edges of the roads, keeping a sharp eye out for any groups of cats skulking about. Fireheart did his best to drown out the busy sounds and smells of the town, trying to search out for any sign of BloodClan.

The roads grew busier with cars as they went farther and farther. Still, there was no sign of BloodClan. Fireheart frowned to himself. Where are they? He recalled the time he and Silverthorn had been found by a wandering patrol—but now, he didn't see any other cats. Are they in the forest? Or have they withdrawn into their camp? He knew they weren't far now from the alley where Fireheart had met them last.

Finally, he caught the scent of cats on the wind. Many cats. The foul scents of the city masked them well, but not this close to the camp. Fireheart rounded the corner into a wide alley and stopped.

A number of cats milled about in the alleyway, and several were ready when he and Silverthorn appeared. They bristled, hissing an alarm to each other.

"Intruders!"

Fireheart stiffened, forcing himself to keep his fur flat. "I'm Fireheart!" He called. "Brother to Princess and Scourge!"

It seemed the declaration was enough to give the guards pause. Several of the cats exchanged glances, muttering to one another.

"That's right…"

"I remember them…"

"Scourge will want to see him…"

One cat finally lashed her tail. "Very well!" She meowed. "Let them pass."

Fireheart stiffened with rage as he laid his eyes on her. She was a massive brown tabby, ragged and scarred. Even from the one brief encounter he had with her, he could recall her far too clearly.

That's the cat that killed Eaglepaw! Rage briefly possessed Fireheart, clawing at his chest—but he had to force it back. He would ruin any chances of success if he attacked this killer… and he would likely throw his own life away in the process.

The tabby seemed not to recognize him in any significant way as she watched them pass. Fireheart glared silently at her, earning a confused frown. I won't forget you, he swore.

Fireheart padded stiffly past her, turning down the alley. He couldn't help his fur rising nervously as they went into the camp. A short turn to their right revealed the wide lot that BloodClan used for their camp. There were still countless cats here, but the scene was far different than when Fireheart had last visited.

They were preparing for war. Cats were sparring all around, leaping and snarling and clawing. Others looked on, shouting suggestions or jeering on fights. To one side of camp, cats were setting to work reinforcing their claws as Scourge had at the Gathering. Pairs worked together to fix the dog teeth to their paws. Fireheart shuddered as he saw Bone sharpening his teeth-claws on a hunk of metal. What kind of warriors are they?

Above it all, Scourge watched silently, his blue gaze constantly scanning his Clan. It was not long before his eyes settled on Fireheart and Silverthorn as they approached the abandoned car that served as his perch. His gaze glowed with recognition.

"Brother," he purred. "Welcome."

Fireheart padded to the bottom of the car, tipping his head back to look up at Scourge. He swallowed, his throat tight. "Scourge," he greeted. "We need to talk."

Scourge beckoned Fireheart to join him with a twitch of his tail. Fireheart shared an uncertain look with Silverthorn before he obliged, leaping up to the roof of the car.

"Sit with me," Scourge meowed. He smiled. "I'm glad you came. Are you here to join us?"

Fireheart sat down next to his brother, his heart in his throat. "No," he meowed. "I came to talk."

Scourge's smile fell, and he flicked his tail as though displeased. "I see," he meowed. "Speak, then."

Fireheart steeled his nerves. He allowed his gaze to drift away from Scourge himself, to look down on the Clan surrounding them. They seemed so different from the Clans of the wild. Their training was brutal—he could tell they were using claws on one another, drawing blood as they saw fit.

"I came to ask you to leave the Clans in peace," he finally meowed. "I don't know how Tigerstar found you, or what he promised you, but he is gone now." Fireheart glanced at Scourge again. "You won't find what he offered by taking the Clans to war."

"So it's come to war, then?" Scourge asked, seemingly unmoved. "I see."

Fireheart curled his claws into the hard metal beneath his paws. "It doesn't have to," he meowed. "Can't we be at peace with each other? You were willing to work with the Clans before."

Scourge turned to meet Fireheart's gaze, his gaze cold as fresh snow. "I'm afraid you don't entirely understand why I had an arrangement with Tigerstar," he meowed. "But you are my kin, Fireheart, and as I said before, I do not wish for harm to come to you." He twitched his whiskers once. "Come. Walk with me." He leaped down from the car.

Puzzled, Fireheart followed. Scourge led the way across the lot, heading down another small path. Fireheart glanced over his shoulder to see Silverthorn watching with wide eyes.

"No harm will come to him," Scourge meowed. "Come."

Fireheart swallowed, praying Scourge was telling the truth. He gave Silverthorn an apologetic frown before he followed after his brother.

"BloodClan existed before I came to it," Scourge meowed. He wove his way calmly through his Clanmates. Even those locked in battle immediately froze and scrambled out of the way, leaving a clear path for their leader. "But it was leaderless and lawless, without even a name. No better than strays huddled together out of fear."

Fireheart blinked as he padded alongside him. "How did you find BloodClan?" he asked.

"Brick and Bone found me," Scourge meowed. He looked at Fireheart out of the corners of his eyes, expressionless. "After a forest cat wounded me."

"A Clan cat?" Fireheart's eyes widened.

"Yes." Scourge frowned in the slightest. "His name was Tigerclaw, then."

Fireheart blinked once more, silently surprised.

"He hardly took any notice of me," Scourge meowed. "Not enough to remember me later. I was fresh out of the nest, not much older than two or three moons, I think." His thin tail lashed. "It didn't stop him from defending his territory by tearing me to pieces."

Fireheart's blood ran cold. Tigerstar fought kits? The thought sickened him. Suddenly, everything that had taken place at the Gathering had begun to make far more sense. Did Scourge ever intend to help him? He wondered. Was it all just to get revenge?

Scourge's eyes narrowed. He led the way down a new alley. Many cats lined the way, sharing fresh-kill or dozing. Fireheart took them in as they walked, his heart pounding. There really are so many cats. Just how big is his Clan?

"I found a dead dog," Scourge meowed. "As I was trying to survive on the streets, wounded. He was an old thing, more bones than flesh. A kittypet collar was a mark of weakness, and the strays in town began to chase me away from food, knowing I was a housepet. I needed to get rid of this collar."

Fireheart's eyes instinctively were drawn to the haunting collar. Clearly, he never had been rid of it. It was hard to see any fabric beneath the rows of yellowed teeth and claws.

"I used a tooth to try and pry it off," Scourge meowed. "But it just stuck through." He led them onto the sidewalk at the end of the alley, then paused, watching the road. "Brick discovered me wrestling with the tooth and collar. She said it looked like I had killed the dog. Being a kit, I said I had."

Fireheart wanted to snort in disbelief. How would any cat believe a kit had killed a dog?

Scourge smiled briefly, as though sharing Fireheart's amusement. He stepped into the middle of the road and led them across, padding towards another alley. "Brick knew I was a liar, but she saw a seed of potential in my story. You see, BloodClan needed hope and leadership. The rogues of the city were starved, sick, and weak. Brick and Bone knew that with a little work, a group could rise above our terrible circumstances and create something mighty." His voice was suddenly gripped with a rare sense of passion, of conviction. His eyes seemed to gleam and they padded into the next alleyway. "They brought me to a group and told the story of my victory over a dog. The tooth was proof enough. No one wanted to question things—they just wanted something to believe in."

That's it? Fireheart thought. That's how he became a leader? He could hardly imagine that happening in the Clans he knew. He was just a kit. He should have had someone to look after him.

"You've seen my warriors," Scourge meowed. He chuckled to himself, as though amused. "Well, some of them, anyhow. But you haven't seen my Clan." He padded down the alley, nodding towards another group of cats huddled by the side.

Fireheart followed his gaze. These cats seemed different. They were skinny, despondent. Many coughed harshly, eyes clouded. A queen, skin-and-bones, watched as her kits tugged apart a small chunk of meat.

"BloodClan has many, many cats," Scourge meowed. "It is a blessing and a curse." His frown returned. "We provide everyone protection from outsiders, but even we cannot provide everyone with the food they need to thrive. Resources are scarce on the streets."

Fireheart felt pity tug at his heart as he passed these cats. He didn't miss the way their eyes glowed with hope and warmth as they saw Scourge passing through. Several straightened up, hoping to be noticed. Queens quickly groomed their kits' fur flat. Murmurs of relief passed down the alley as Scourge padded through, nodding briefly to a few cats here and there.

"How many cats are there?" Fireheart asked.

Scourge did not reply. He swept Fireheart down to yet another lot, blocked off by a chain fence. He could hear cats talking excitedly, and could feel the waves of anticipation coming from the gathered warriors. His view was blocked by two dumpsters, but he scented many cats.

Scourge stopped here and turned fully to face Fireheart. "I ask you once more," he meowed. "Will you join BloodClan?" He stared deep into Fireheart's eyes. "We will take the forest for ourselves. My Clan needs the forest's resources to thrive. We are done with simply surviving. We deserve to be free of the human rubbish and muck as much as you wildcats."

Fireheart's throat was tight all over again. "Scourge," he rasped. "I cannot join you. I have a Clan of my own. Please, just think—why can't we work something out? Maybe we could give away a small piece of territory, or some herbs, or—"

"Enough," Scourge sharply interrupted. "You are no leader, Fireheart, and you cannot make such promises. I have made promises to my Clan of glory and freedom, and we will have it." He lashed his tail. "But you are still my brother, and I will not let you leave without showing you BloodClan hospitality. I insist you stay for a performance."

Fireheart stared blankly at Scourge. He realized now how hopeless his plan had been—Scourge was right; Fireheart could offer him nothing but pleas. He was as insignificant as an ant, kin or not.

"Now come," Scourge ordered, padding through a tear in the fence.

Fireheart stiffly followed, knowing he had no choice in the matter. This was not an invitation, not like before. Whatever Scourge intended to show him, he would.

Fireheart followed Scourge into the lot. Cats clustered around, hissing with excitement as they saw their leader pad confidently through. They formed a large circle, packed together around the edges, leaving it clear in the center.

Scourge leaped atop a closed dumpster. Fireheart followed, sitting again beside him. He urged his limbs not to betray his anxiety by shaking now. Scourge nodded silently, as though giving an order.

Immediately, two cats padded into the clearing. They circled each other as cats yowled in anticipation, tails weaving.

One cat, a gray tabby, darted forward. She slashed her claws, aiming for her ginger opponent's shoulder. The tom ducked and weaved away. His own claws flashed, slicing open her flank.

Wails rang out, loud enough to topple the buildings that surrounded them, threatening to drown anything else. Fireheart flattened his ears, fear instinctively spurred by the cries and scent of blood. What is this?!

The rivals danced around one another with deadly grace, ducking, leaping, and slashing. A nick here, a blow there. Any flash of blood resulted in caterwauls from the onlookers, their eyes gleaming with sick fascination.

"Our cats do not just fight," Scourge meowed, his tone heavy. "We revel in battle. We relish the feeling of claws through flesh and the thrill of danger in our enemy's paws." Scourge turned to look at Fireheart. "My cats do not fear death, Fireheart," he hissed. "They will fight because they love to. They will fight for me."

Fireheart was chilled to the bone by his brother's words and his icy stare. He was struck by how truly different the pair of them were. How can we be brothers?

Shrieks of glee rose, higher than before, and Fireheart tore his gaze away to look below. The molly stood victorious, blood dripping from her jaws. The tom lay dead, still as stone. If any grieved him, Fireheart couldn't say. The warriors seemed possessed by wild excitement, frenzied in a way he had never seen before. The molly swiped her tongue across her bloodied lips.

"BloodClan will rule the forest, and we will get rid of all who stand in our way if we must," Scourge swore, his gaze still fixed on Fireheart. "So wake up and join us, or tell your Clans to do the right thing and leave."

Fireheart could not reply. His gaze remained fixed on the dead tom in sick horror as he was dragged away, and another cat leaped into the ring, tail weaving with eagerness. Scourge spoke true: not even seeing his Clanmate fall deterred the next fighter from the challenge. It only seemed to thrill him more.

I have to get out of here, Fireheart thought, shaking his head. I can't watch anymore of this! He turned away and leaped down from the dumpster, racing frantically for the exit.

Cats hissed furiously as he fled, but Scourge let out a brief yowl. "Let him go!"

Fireheart fled, running down the alley and back towards the camp. He dodged around a car as it raced down the street, narrowly avoiding being hit by it. Fireheart rushed back towards the car in a frenzy, earning suspicious hisses from BloodClan cats. Still, no one attacked.

Silverthorn had remained crouched by the car, his ears flat and eyes wide. "Fireheart?"

"We need to go," Fireheart hissed, his voice urgent. "This was a mistake. BloodClan won't stop."

"Fireheart, is that you?" a soft voice called. He looked up to see Princess looking down from the open car window, her green gaze curious.

Princess. Fireheart swallowed. "I was just leaving."

"Well," Princess meowed, pausing for a brief yawn. "Let us escort you back to the forest." She leaped down to the ground, and a heartbeat later, Cloud's fuzzy faze appeared in the window, and he leaped out after her.

"Hi, Cloud," Fireheart meowed, forcing a smile. His young nephew had grown a little larger since he'd last seen him, but he still looked apprentice-aged.

"Fireheart!" Cloud purred. "Mother was wondering when you would come back. Aren't you going to stay with us?" His thick tail flicked with excitement. "It'd be so good to have more kin around."

Fireheart's throat tightened. "No. I belong with RiverClan." He looked up to meet Princess's gaze as he said it.

Silverthorn eyed Fireheart's kin warily. Fireheart felt like his mouth was full of sand. He desperately wanted to tell Silverthorn what he had seen—but he couldn't in front of Princess.

Princess padded away from the car, flicking her tail for them to follow. Cloud gave Fireheart a friendly blink. "Will you tell me what it's like to be a forest cat?"

Fireheart glanced at his sister, but she seemed not to react to the question. "I guess I can tell you while we go," he meowed. He began to follow after Princess, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.

The cats seemed to part just as they had for Scourge. They watched the family leave with interest, but once the group had passed, they quickly resumed their battle training.

Princess took them back out to the streets and began to lead them back the way they had come. Cloud stared at Fireheart all the way with bright, inquisitive eyes.

Fireheart cleared his throat, trying to hide how shaken he was. "Well, there's four Clans in the forest," he meowed. "I'm part of RiverClan. We learn how to swim and hunt for fish."

"Whoa," Cloud gasped. "You swim?"

Princess wrinkled her nose at the idea. "How do you stand it?"

Fireheart shrugged. "You just get used to it after a while. I actually enjoy it now."

"Uncle Bone says there won't be Clans in the forest anymore," Cloud cheerfully meowed. "You're not going to be in the fight, are you?" He blinked at Fireheart again.

Fireheart swallowed. How is he so happy? He wondered. Cloud was born into BloodClan—to him, this must all seem perfectly normal. "I am," he meowed. "But I would rather there not be a fight at all."

Princess turned around and stopped quite suddenly. Her green gaze was hard to read. "Fireheart," she meowed, her voice soft. "You must understand that we don't want to hurt you. You're our kin, and kin means very much to BloodClan."

Fireheart met her soft gaze. He felt claws pierce his heart. He hardly knew his kin well—and deep down, he wished that he could know them. "I don't want to fight you either," he murmured.

Silverthorn was bristling uncomfortably. "He's not the one causing the battle," he hissed.

Princess ignored him, her eyes fixed on Fireheart. She took a step forward. "I know you haven't wanted to join us," she quietly meowed. "But think about how good it could be. We would all be a family again." She stared unblinkingly at him, her gaze unusually intense. Fireheart felt his fur rise anxiously. It was so much quieter here, on the edge of the road, far away from the shrieks of the BloodClan warriors.

Fireheart flattened his ears. I want to know my family, I do, but I won't abandon my Clan! He glanced towards Silverthorn. "I have friends in RiverClan," he meowed. "I have a life there. I can't leave that all behind."

"Why not?" Princess murmured. She touched her soft tail to Fireheart's side. "You can bring your friends with you. BloodClan welcomes any willing to join us." Fireheart felt unsettled by her stare, and he fought the instinct to jerk away from his sister.

Fireheart closed his eyes, feeling his heart clench. She'll never understand my loyalty to my Clan. "Why do you want to fight?" he asked. "Don't you have plenty of territory here?"

Princess sighed quietly. "Does any cat really want to fight?" she asked. "We're doing what is necessary, that's all. Can't you understand?" Her voice was sweet as honey, but her eyes betrayed no emotion.

Fireheart thought of the sick and starving cats he had seen, and he nodded silently. A heartbeat later, doubt stabbed at him. But there are cats who want to fight! he yowled internally. Scourge showed me that already. His unease grew. Is she just trying to lie to me? He couldn't just forget the death match he had witnessed.

"You could stay behind, if you needed," Princess went on. Her tail curled around his flank like a snake. "I wouldn't make you fight your own Clan. Some wouldn't approve, but it doesn't matter. You're my blood, and blood sticks together." Her green eyes continued to pierce into his. Fireheart found himself lost, frozen, staring back at her.

"Fireheart," Silverthorn hissed, breaking through the silence.

Fireheart gritted his teeth and pulled away from Princess's touch. "I said no," he meowed firmly. "I want to resolve this peacefully, but if you choose to fight, I will fight with the Clans."

Princess's expression twisted suddenly. She curled back her lips, wrinkling her nose. "Then you're a pathetic fool!" she spat. "BloodClan will destroy your Clans, and then you will see that you should have chosen your true family."

Fireheart flinched away, startled by the ferocity and venom in her voice. She was bristling, her soft features now sharp and unwelcoming. Silverthorn hissed wordlessly at her, arching his back.

"Cloud will show you the rest of the way," Princess snarled. "Don't try to come crawling back to us." She lashed her tail and left them, returning back to her alley home.

Fireheart stared after her in stunned silence. She's just as mad as Scourge, Fireheart realized. They're both truly BloodClan. They say they're my kin, but… His chest clenched with doubt and grief.

Cloud flattened his ears, looking embarrassed. "Sorry about Mother," he mumbled. "She doesn't like when cats don't agree with her." He brightened up a heartbeat later and began to hurry down the path. "Come on! I'll show you the way."

"We know the way," Silverthorn muttered. Cloud seemed not to hear him, and the two older toms followed along behind.

Fireheart glanced over his shoulder, feeling a storm of emotions. He had longed to get to know his siblings—hoped that they would listen to reason—but all he was walking away with was more fear and doubt. The howls of the frenzied warriors still rang in his ears.

"Cloud," Fireheart murmured. "Are you going to be in the battle?"

Cloud blinked and looked back at his uncle. Doubt clouded his gaze, and he frowned. "Yes," he meowed. "Uncle Bone has been training me since I was a kit, but…" His pelt fluffed nervously. "I've never fought in a real battle before."

Fireheart felt a stab of grief at the thought of the young cat going to war. He was the same age as Eaglepaw, he assumed. Too young to die in battle. "You shouldn't go," he meowed. "War is deadly. You're so young. You have a whole life ahead of you."

"I'll be with Uncle Scourge and Mother," Cloud meowed. "I'll be fine." Despite his words, his gaze was nervous. Fireheart frowned. Cloud seemed so different than BloodClan's leaders. Soft and friendly. He could hardly even picture the young tom raising his claws to another—but maybe he was just as vicious, deep down.

Fireheart tried to clear the tension from his throat as they padded on. "Cloud, why don't you tell me about what it's like to be BloodClan?"

Silverthorn's eyes flashed with curiosity at that. Cloud glanced back at his uncle. "It's okay," he meowed. "Sometimes things are scary. But Scourge says everything will be better when we're in the forest."

Scary… yeah, I can believe that. Fireheart frowned. He padded forward to walk beside Cloud. "What scares you?"

Cloud hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder again, as though checking to see if anyone was behind them. "The fights scare me," he admitted, looking bashful. "Mother says it's just BloodClan's way, but…" He shivered.

"But?" Fireheart prompted.

Cloud looked down at his paws. "I don't really like watching cats die," he murmured. He shivered. "And… a lot of cats in BloodClan die."

Fireheart felt a wave of sympathy wash over him. Maybe he isn't the same, Fireheart thought. Maybe not everyone in BloodClan wants to fight so badly. "You know," he murmured. "In the Clans, we don't fight our own Clanmates to the death."

Cloud glanced at him, confusion in his gaze. "But how do you know who the strongest fighters are?"

The question sickened Fireheart. "Being a warrior isn't about being the strongest," he meowed. "It's about being a good Clanmate; being loyal. Strong warriors are good, but not everyone needs to be the best fighter."

Cloud stared back quietly, his gaze hard to read.

Fireheart felt a new question rise in himself. "Cloud," he meowed. "I know BloodClan isn't against killing in battle. But why do Princess and Scourge not want to fight me?"

Cloud glanced at him. "Kin is very important," he meowed. "It's against BloodClan law—blood must not spill blood. Even if you aren't BloodClan yourself." He looked down at his paws. "No one would ever hurt me because I'm kin to Mother and Uncle Scourge. But… a lot of other cats get hurt." His gaze darkened. "I'm not always afraid for myself… but it's not easy to make friends when you know they might not last."

Fireheart kneaded his paws. "Cloud, come with us," he gently meowed. "I don't think you really belong here. You shouldn't have to watch cats die like you do."

Cloud's gaze sparked, and he took a step back. "Mother wouldn't like that," he whispered. "I—I need to go." He quickly backed up and turned away, bounding back towards the BloodClan camp.

A stab of grief pierced Fireheart's chest. Silverthorn nudged him. "You can't force him to do anything," the tabby murmured. "It's his choice what he does."

Fireheart let out a sigh. "I know," he meowed. "Let's go home."