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Ch.13: What Was Lost (Part 5)

Graystripe felt hot wind sweep past his face and heard the monster impact into something.

"Graystripe!" Fireshade's voice rang dark with distress.

The gray warrior tentatively opened his eyes to find his orange companion fretting over him with fearful green eyes. Looking around, Graystripe saw that they were on the other side of the Thunderpath with the rest of WindClan, including the straggling elders they were trying to save. More confused than anything, he looked out to the black trail and found that the monster that had nearly crushed him had skidded off the path and slammed into a tree. One of its great black paws looked melted and unusable. "Wha…" Was all he could manage as he tried desperately to piece together what happened. The WindClan cats' shocked and rampant whispers made it easy enough.

"How did the orange one move so fast!?"

"I didn't even see him!"

"Did he break that monster's paw!?"

"Incredible!"

"How did you…" The words died on Graystripe's lips as he still tried desperately to believe his eyes.

Fireshade shook his head, at a lost for a good answer. "I couldn't think; I just had to do." His gentle gaze still held flecks of naked terror. That usually confident tone of his was now fragile, his hackles struggling to lay down again.

He never would have forgiven himself if I left him to be with StarClan. What did it matter that Fireshade was stubborn or reserved? He was ready to die for Graystripe. Not as a warrior fulfilling his duty but as his precious friend.

"In all my moons," Deadfoot suddenly broke in as he approached them, mysticism still peppering his expression. "I've never seen a warrior do anything quite like that."

Fireshade's tail wrapped around his hind leg as he acknowledged the deputy. Any external softness melted away. "What happened with the monster's paw was pure luck," he shrugged casually before his whiskers twitched in annoyance. "StarClan sent a bolt of lightning in our time of need." His voice was smooth, but his eyes looked away from Deadfoot.

Graystripe narrowed his eyes at the orange tom's lazy excuse. He was good at deflection, but he wasn't exactly perfect at telling bold faced lies. Like crowfood, that's what happened! He didn't know how Fireshade did that, but he knew he did do it. Still, he was owed gratitude and not questioning. The Gray warrior placed his muzzled onto his friend's shoulder. He tried not to purr in amusement as Fireshade instinctively shirked to his touch.

Deadfoot seem to take the ginger warrior's answer. He politely turned his attention away from them and to his Clan.

Onewhisker came to them and touched Fireshade's nose with his own. "You would have died for us," he murmured. WindClan will never forget that."

Tallstar's voice sounded behind them. Though he addressed them coolly, the spark in his golden eyes said he was no less impressed or mystified than the rest of his Clan "Onewhisker is right; we shall honor you both in our stories. We must keep going," he continued. "We have a long journey ahead of us."

Not to mention, it looked like other monsters were gathering around the injured one and Twolegs were getting out of their bellies. It was best they start moving before their attention was turned to the Clan.

"I'll go check on Morningflower and her kit…" Fireshade murmured as he moved away from Graystripe, shoulders low in obvious embarrassment. Perhaps so much praise and affection were too much for him. This time, Graystripe couldn't help but purr from amusement. Was Fireshade always so cute when he was embarrassed? He picks the strangest times to act humble.

The Clan followed the hedgerow along the Thunderpath before turning away to join the track through the woods, amazed murmurs still flowing here and there. The scents here seemed to soothe the WindClan cats, but the journey had taken its toll; they were traveling slower than ever. And when they reached he fence at the far side, it took all Graystripe's strength to help the weakest cats over. Even Fireshade was slowing down a bit. The sun had passed its highest point by the time they spotted Twoleg place in the distance.

Clouds billowed up over Highstones, growing blacker as they covered the sinking sun. A cold wind ruffled the cats' fur, bringing the first drops of rain.

Graystripe looked at the WindClan cats. There was no way they could travel through a long, wet night. He was tired too, and for the first time since he'd eaten Yellowfang's herbs, he was feeling the effects of hunger. A glance at Fireshade told him that his friend was starting to feel it too. His tail had begun to droop and his ears were flattened against the splattering rain.

"Tallstar," Graystripe called. "Perhaps we should stop soon and shelter for the night."

The WindClan leader stopped and waited while Graystripe caught up to him. "I agree," he meowed. "There's a ditch here; we can shelter in that until the sunrises.

Graystripe and Fireshade exchanged glances. "We might be sheltering in the hedgerow," Fireshade suggested. "There are rats in these ditches."

Tallstar nodded. "Very well." He turned to his Clan and announced that they would be spending the night here. The queens and elders flopped down at once, despite the rain while the warriors and apprentices gathered hunting patrols.

Fireshade and Graystripe joined them. "I don't know how good hunting will be here," Fireshade meowed. "There are too many Twolegs."

Graystripe's stomach growled as if in agreement. The other warriors turned to him with amused sympathetic eyes. Then they froze as the grass behind them rustled. The WindClan warrior bristled and arched their backs, unsheathing sharp claws, but Fireshade and Graystripe turned their heads calmly. The wind carried a familiar and welcomed scent.

"Barley!"

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