Jerah left almost immediately, leaving her and Hilton to sit and watch him and his fighters follow that one path all the way to the field and the warrens which led to her Clan. The rest of the group that remained in the camp watched them carefully. The guards resumed their posts at the entrance, and she and Hilton were left in charge.

"I am not pleased about this," Hilton informed unhelpfully. She flicked an ear and turned a glare on him.

"And I am?" She snapped. His tail lashed as he stood to face Jerah's den.

"You certainly got to a position of respect much faster than the rest of us," he said over his shoulder. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and turned to follow him.

"According to Jerah, I earned my position—"

"You did," Hilton conceded, turning to face her. His dark eyes were bored, resigned. "But you have been here less than half a moon. I don't trust you." She drew back, admitting silently that he was fair to do so.

"I did what I had to, to get where I am. I have invaluable information about the Clans that none of you have," she reasoned instead. He flattened his ears but did not look away. "I was born here," she took a step toward him, "I was raised here. And maybe I did not stay here, thanks to Jerah murdering my family, it still is in my blood. These streets, this camp, that den," she gestured to the pile of logs behind them. "I am more a part of this place than you are." She had him. She knew it by the look of resignation that crossed through his eyes. He looked away, over her shoulder.

"I was young, too, when Jerah took over. I was around when Tyre ruled the streets. Tyre was much more brutal than Jerah is now—"

"Then you should know to be careful with me—"

"And," he cut in irritably, "I know what you are capable of. I have experienced your teeth myself. You are Tyre's daughter. And those Clan cats could not train it out of you. I do not like you," he concluded and returned his eyes to her. He studied her for a moment, as if remembering something. She forced herself not to shuffle her paws and look away. She was not a kit anymore. She was hardly an apprentice. "I do not like you," he continued after a moment, "you killed my friend. But I know where you come from, and I respect the brutality that you have." With that, he turned and padded towards Jerah's den and slipped inside. She drew her shoulders back. She couldn't drop her shoulders like she wanted to. She wanted to curl up and whine like a kit. Her Clan was about to be under vicious attack because of advice she gave Jerah.

This group was watching her, though. She turned to those still watching and lashed her tail, lowering her harshest glare at them. They all turned away from her. She wouldn't stay here, at least not tonight. Jerah wanted her close, so she would obey those orders, but she needed to see Silverpelt one more time and wish her Clanmates well.

She padded past the guards at the gate.

"Where are you going?" One guard called after her. She flicked her tail.

"I will be back in the morning," she called over her shoulder.

"Jerah said—" she turned on them, snarling.

"Jerah is gone and until further notice, Hilton and I are in charge," she snapped. Both the toms hesitated, sharing a glance. "I will be back." They did not speak again and she turned and padded the similar path to the safety of her den.

She paused at the street and checked for oncoming monsters… cars before crossing to follow the well-trodden path through the twoleg nests. The words from before had started come back over time. The nests were houses. The paths were streets. The monsters were cars. The scents of the forest were fading from memory. The green of Oakstar's eyes. The sound of Sagesong's gentle voice as she encouraged the injured warriors. The sound of kits playing. She sighed as she stopped at her fence.

It seemed like it had been moons since she'd leaped over the fence this morning. She leaped up, the stiffness from her body all but gone and landed gracefully on the other side only stumbling a step. She missed the safety of the warrior's den and JayClan's camp. She missed Silverpelt and her Clanmates.

She wished she had never accepted Oakstar's offer or that she had died when Jerah came through the first time. She did not want to be in this position. She did not want to have to give Jerah advice and work with his most trusted. She did not want to be his most trusted. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to kill Hilton. She wanted to kill Whistle and Hickory and the mate that had glared at her during—

She froze. Dusky's mate. She wasn't a killer. She wasn't. She did what she had to do. She needed to kill him. She had to. She needed to get close to Jerah. That's what Oakstar had ordered. Take down the group from the inside. That had been the order. She had only done what her leader had asked of her.

She wasn't a killer. She did what was necessarily to protect her Clan. That's all she was doing was protecting her Clan, trying to save them. So those kits, the memory of their laughter, could grow up happy and free from terror. So her Clan could thrive. She was doing this for them.

She was. She was doing all she could for her Clan.

Killing Dusky was a part of that. Falling in step with Jerah was a part of that.

Standing in front of a cat who had clearly been beaten and was on the road to dying was a part of that.

Hilton stood next to her, tail tip twitching. Guards stood on either side of the poor tom who had been scratched until his blood dripped onto the ground, more red. Red. Red. They had dragged him through the gates almost as soon as she had walked through to join Hilton. Hilton had already been waiting at the bottom of the log pile.

"Good morning, Leera," he had called, false cheer in his tone. "We have something to deal with this morning. Some cat," he'd gestured with his head to the cat who stumbled and collapsed in middle of camp, the guards spitting at him as he went. "Some cat has decided that running from our lovely group was the right way to go. Without even talking to us," he sighed as if disappointed. "It's a dangerous world out there, Gentry. We can protect you."

The tom, Gentry, she summarized, was refusing to look at them.

Hilton turned to look at her, tilting his head.

"What should we do with him, Leera?" he inquired. She flicked an ear and looked back at Gentry. His blood dripped down onto the ground. Drip. Drip. Drip.

"What does Jerah usually do with deserters?" She asked instead of answering. He chuckled as he padded forward. A crowd had slowly gathered around, keeping their distance but clearly intrigued. She did her best to ignore him. Dusky's mate. His kits. They were in the crowd. She could feel their eyes on her.

"He offers them a choice," Hilton said almost gleefully and started walking a circle around Gentry. It seemed as if finally having some cat to lord over had given him some of his energy back. "You have seen this decision happen multiple times, Gentry. Tell Leera what it is."

The little black tom stayed silent, his head bowed, blood dripping onto the ground. Constant drip. Drip. She rolled her shoulders. This felt dirty. Wrong. Cats should have the free will to come and go as they please. Tyre's rule had been just as vicious, she remembered vaguely a similar situation when she'd been a kit. He'd executed the cat.

"I said," Hilton snapped, lashing out at Gentry's hindquarters, leaving a deep wound. The black tom cried out in pain. She held back a wince. "Tell her."

"I… I can either… stay and receive…" he glanced up at her, terror flashing through his eyes, "punishment or… or… death."

"Interesting," she said carefully and looked up at Hilton. His dark eyes flashed with delight. "Why did you choose to run, or at least try to?" She asked, returning her attention to Gentry.

"I don't… I saw what you did to Dusky… and I… I didn't want to die to Clan cats," he whispered. She held back a flinch at that. He'd watched. They all watched as she killed him. He'd been terrified of her, of Clan cats. Standing in front of him was a part of saving her Clan.

"What do you think we should do with him, Leera?" Hilton rejoined her side. She wanted to move away from him. She did not want any part of this. But she needed to do this. She inhaled deeply. Above all, she was Tyre's daughter. The daughter of a monster.

"You said it was his choice," she offered. He dipped his head in acknowledgment and looked to Gentry. They watched him. Hilton shifted from foot to foot, eager and ready to start.

"I…" Gentry hesitated. Her heart caught in her chest as he lifted his eyes to meet hers. Vibrant green. Defiant. She recognized that look. Oakstar burst forth with it on the daily. Her Clanmates glowed with defiance. "I don't want to be sacrificed."

"Alright," Hilton announced. He gestured with his chin to the two guards behind him. They stepped forward to the black tom. "Your choice is made. Leera?" He once again was deferring to her. She had not made a single choice. But she was standing here approving of every decision. She continued to let things happen. This is what her father had done. This is what she needed to do to save her Clan. She had to help make the tough calls. She had to make the bad calls. Or at least, go along with them.

"The choice is his, is it not?"

"Ah, yes," Hilton nodded, "go ahead." He brushed his tail against her shoulder as he turned, indicating she follow him to the top of the log pile. She studied Gentry one more time.

"Why this decision?" She asked him.

"I've heard what they say about you," he refused to look at her, "you killed Dusky without a thought. You abandoned the only cats that cared about you—"

"They abandoned me—" she started defensively and then grit her teeth, glaring at him. "I am what I am because of this place, and I am finally returning to my rightful place." She hissed at him. She stepped close to him and lowered her mouth near her ear. "Tyre was my father, murderous leader of this place, and I am his daughter. I will take his place." She pulled back and his eyes widened.

"You—Jerah—Hilton!" He called desperately over her shoulder. She snarled and lunged forward, sinking her teeth into his throat. Gasps rippled behind her, and she heard Hilton choke out in surprise. He couldn't tell Hilton the little lie she had said to him in the heat of the moment. He had proved his loyalty was still to Hilton, to Jerah. He had only been a coward. The defiance had been against her, not against Jerah or his rule. He was a coward. She tore her head back, and Gentry choked out and stumbled to the ground.

Once again, red, red, red, red, red. It tasted like metal, as if she licked the rocks around the river. It tasted nothing like the blood from prey. It didn't even taste like Hilton. Hilton's blood had tasted like life, like fight, like defiance. Gentry tasted like a coward. She spat out, breathing heavily. The guards looked at her, shock and fear in their eyes. She turned to face the gathered cats.

"This is what happens when you try to leave," she hissed, gesturing to where Gentry lay. "This is what happens when you choose to defy Jerah, to defy these rules. Look at Gentry and do not follow his example." She must have looked positively feral because they turned their eyes away in fear. She finally turned to Hilton. He looked vaguely terrified but impressed. She stalked towards him and brushed past him as she slid into Jerah's den. If he was going to offer the den, she was going to use it.

Each day after she had… made an example of Gentry had come with cats asking about problems or waiting anxiously for Jerah to return with news.

She had considered what happened with Gentry as a part of what Oakstar had asked her to do. He'd asked to infiltrate and bring them down. He'd asked her to help the Clan in whatever way she could. Breaking this group, destroying their confidence, making them fear the Clans, what a Clan cat could do, what she could do. They would never attack the Clan again.

She had done that. She was just doing what Oakstar had asked. He had never specified what he wanted her to do. He'd only told her to do it.

She and Hilton had gained some kind of mutual respect for each other. They'd deferred to each other about most of the issues that they could, strange scents, dogs, anything that wasn't directly related to how the group operated. Hilton explained the workings of the group, how it ran, where cats resided, if and when they gathered, how news was spread.

Time flew by and Jerah was back before she even realized the half moon had passed.

She and Hilton were lounging at the bottom of the log pile, not near each other, this was not her Clanmate, but the hostility between them was gone.

"Leera! Hilton!" Jerah called joyfully. The large group he had left with was much smaller. Hickory and Whistle limped behind him and Jerah himself was even scratched up. Hilton rose to his paws and bumped heads with Jerah in greeting. She took her time getting to her feet, glancing up at him. He paused in front of her.

"Leera, Leera," he murmured softly. She raised her chin. "How did you do in my absence?"

"It was easy to fall into my rightful place," she told him easily.

"She killed Gentry. She made an example of him," Hilton cut in, bumping shoulders with her. She flicked an ear, highly unamused.

"Gentry? Why?" He looked at her, confused.

"He tried to run, and he made his choice. He chose defiance," she shrugged.

"Look at you," Jerah teased lightly and brushed past her. "You are a killer, just like I thought you were." She recoiled, flattening her ears. "We need to discuss what happened with the Clan," he called over his shoulder. Hickory and Whistle nodded to her and followed after Jerah. She scowled at Hilton and he gave her an amused glance as he followed Jerah. She inhaled and followed him. It was all a part of what Oakstar had asked her to do. Infiltrate. End them.

They gathered in the space behind the log pile.

Hickory and Whistle collapsed against the wall as if finally admitting their exhaustion. Jerah stood. She and Hilton sat next to each other, waiting for them to speak.

"You were right," Jerah said evenly. "He was much more aggressive than the older leader, Twigstar." She flicked her tail, indifferent.

"What happened?" She asked instead.

"We attacked them every night, every patrol we could find, but they killed some cats, more than I thought they would. They were… vicious. Oakstar," Jerah said uneasily. "We lost good cats." His jaw tightened and he looked away. "This needs to end."

"How do you plan to do that?" Hilton asked. She glanced at him. He shrugged at her, looking back at her. Asking the questions she would've asked herself.

"Yes, Jerah," she turned back to the black tom. "How do you plan to take down an incredibly aggressive cat who is willing to kill?"

"I thought killing was against your code?" Jerah inquired. She scowled at him.

"I am not a Clan cat, Jerah. If all of my actions haven't proven that by now, then I don't how to help you," she shrugged. He studied her for a moment.

"We're going to take all available fighters we can and wipe JayClan out. It has served its purpose for me," Jerah said sharply.

"And Jerah, what is that purpose? You never told me," she said innocently. He cocked his head and glanced to Whistle.

"Shall I share?" He asked the tom. Whistle nodded once, wincing as he shifted. Jerah inhaled deeply and held her gaze. "I wanted to find you. I heard that some cat had failed," he turned a look at Hickory who refused to look at either of them, "to kill all of Tyre's kin. As soon as we realized we couldn't find your body, we followed your scent to the border. And then from there, we attacked the Clan. I wanted to find you, Leera, because you got away from me. And I do not like that. And then, after seasons and seaons," he sighed deeply and closed his eyes. Her heart pounded in her chest. He'd been hunting for her, why? She shifted uneasily. She could feel the eyes of the other toms on her.

"After seasons," he opened his eyes and they found hers, "you finally come to me. And now, I can finally eradicate JayClan."

"But… but if… if I'm not there anymore, why still get rid of them?" She blinked rapidly, shaking her head.

"It would seem weak to leave them standing after attacking them for seasons," he shrugged, indifferent. "Just finishing a job." She inhaled deeply.

"When do you plan to do that?" She asked unsteadily.

"As soon as every cat is ready, and you're coming with me," Jerah informed her. "Kill Oakstar like you want and take your place as Tyre's daughter, embrace the monster inside you and take revenge on them, Leera, do it." He was breathing heavily, eyes wide, excited. She shifted uncomfortably. He'd hunted for her. This isn't what Oakstar had asked of her. He'd wanted her to infiltrate.

But she had infiltrated, hadn't she? She'd gotten close to Hilton. She'd taken her place as Tyre's daughter. She had earned Jerah's trust and fascination. This was how it was supposed to be. Then she would kill him. She would kill Jerah before he even took the full might of the group to the Clan. This number of cats would kill them. JayClan would suffer. They would all die. Her doing this, this is what Jerah… this is what Oakstar wanted.

"Of course, Jerah," she said easily, "when do we leave?"