A layer of snow covered the ground as Sunstar's voice rang clearly from the Highrock. "Mosspaw, from this moment you will be known as Mosstail. StarClan honors your intelligence and bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

Mosstail was visibly trembling as she gave Sunstar's shoulder a respectful lick.

"Mistyfur! Stoneclaw! Mosstail!"

Bluefur's heart ached with pride. Her kits were finally warriors.

Much had changed in the Clan in the last few moons. Willowpelt had recently given birth to a litter of kits, much to the relief of the rest of the Clan even if it was leaf-bare. Now that Bluefur's kits were warriors, there were no apprentices, and ThunderClan would not be gaining any new ones for quite some time.

The cold had also brought sickness; Goosefeather, whose health had been declining for seasons, had become weak in the last moon. Leaf-bare was a difficult time for ThunderClan, as always, but new warriors being made filled Bluefur with hope.

She padded up to her kits, too overcome with emotion to speak. If she had given them up she would never have seen this day, and she thanked StarClan she had made the right choice.

Thrushpelt appeared at her shoulder. "Congratulations." He rested his tail on Mistyfur's shoulder. "All three of you."

"We couldn't have done it without you," Mistyfur meowed. "Either of you," she added, dipping her head to Bluefur. "I would never have figured out that rabbit stalking technique if you hadn't helped."

"And I couldn't have hoped for a better mentor." Mosstail stared past the group, giving her mentor a warm blink.

At Mosstail's mew, Sparrowpelt padded up, his eyes gleaming as he gave his apprentice a friendly nudge. "You will sit vigil tonight in the tradition of our ancestors."

"While the rest of us get a good night's sleep," Bluefur added, flicking her tail against Stoneclaw's flank.

"Yes, Sparrowpelt." Stoneclaw paused. "I can't believe we're finally warriors. I've been anticipating keeping vigil for seasons."

"I'm not looking forward to the cold tonight though," Mosstail meowed with a shiver.

Lionheart and Patchpelt joined the newly named warriors as well, and Bluefur and Thrushpelt began to make their way toward the warriors' den. Cats were mewing excitedly all around them and the exuberant mood within the clearing was infectious. The only cat that didn't seem overjoyed was Thistleclaw, but even he looked satisfied that new warriors had been made. Bluefur wished every day could be like this.

As they walked, Thrushpelt touched his nose to Bluefur's ear. "Did you see him?"

"Who?" Bluefur meowed.

"Look." Thrushpelt subtly jerked his head toward the medicine den. "Goosefeather actually came out of his den to watch the ceremony."

Breaking out of her reverie, Bluefur whirled around in surprise. The old tom was ill and hadn't been outside of the medicine den in days, but yet here he was witnessing her kits' warrior ceremonies. There was a wild, crazed expression in his eyes, and when Bluefur looked at him, he shuffled back into the medicine den.

"He was looking at you." Thrushpelt's mew was mild.

Shifting her paws, she looked away. She had no desire to speak with Goosefeather. At this point he would probably start spouting prophecies no cat could understand. Bluefur scowled, the tiny doubts she always held at the back of her mind rising up again, and she decided she didn't want to be cooped up in the warriors' den for the night just yet. "You go ahead," she meowed, settling herself in one of the last patches of sunlight. "I'll join you in a bit."

Thrushpelt nodded, and Bluefur almost thought she saw disappointment flash across his green eyes before he made his way into the warriors' den. She couldn't help feeling guilty. As much as she cared about Thrushpelt, she knew she would never see him as more than a friend even when most of the Clan thought they were mates.

Later that night after the excitement of the ceremony had died down, Sunstar padded over to Bluefur and dipped his head in greeting. "Bluefur."

"Sunstar." Bluefur narrowed her eyes. The expression on his face was very familiar- it was his typical one in the times he had admonished her about serving her Clan after the deaths of her mother and sister.

"Have you heard about Goosefeather?" he asked. Bluefur nodded. "You should go see him. He's been asking for you."

Bluefur opened her mouth to protest, and then shut it. She had been avoiding Goosefeather for seasons out of guilt. What would she have to say to him now?

Sunstar searched her gaze. "You don't still blame him for Moonflower, do you?"

Bluefur shook her head quickly. That's not it at all. "No, Sunstar."

Sighing, the ginger pelted leader turned to face her seriously. "I can't force you to do anything, but it would mean a lot to him if you'd visit. He's taken a turn for the worse." Bluefur inhaled sharply. "I know you haven't had the best relationship with him, but please think about it."

"Yes, Sunstar," Bluefur replied automatically. She knew she should visit Goosefeather, but his demented appearance after her kits' naming made her nervous. He was probably incoherent at this point; she didn't know what any cat could gain by talking to him.

Sunstar hadn't taken more than a few steps before turning back. "And by the way, I'd watch out for that Stoneclaw. If you aren't careful he's going to start outhunting you one of these days."

Bluefur playfully narrowed her eyes at her former mentor. "Outhunt me? Never."

"He did catch a pheasant during his warrior assessment." Sunstar purred, resting his eyes on Mosstail, Stoneclaw, and Mistyfur, who were sitting by the Highrock, their vigil underway. "There was a time I thought you would take a different path, but now I'm glad. Your kits are great warriors, a credit both to you and to ThunderClan."

Bluefur was startled by her leader's sudden praise and it took her a moment to find her voice. "Thank you, Sunstar."

The ginger tom sighed. "With new warriors, even though it is leaf-bare, we are doing better than I could have hoped." Bluefur cast a curious glance at the ThunderClan leader. He was right; prey was nowhere near as poor as last leaf-bare, even if the territory wasn't prey rich. But she sensed he was trying to say something else. "Future seasons won't always be this easy, that is true," Sunstar continued, "but ThunderClan can survive whatever challenges we face."

Bluefur nodded, the anxiety she didn't know she was holding in her chest lifting away. She wondered how many lives Sunstar had left; perhaps that was why he was so concerned about seasons yet to come. But his words reassured her. Although Goosefeather was a medicine cat, Sunstar was a Clan leader, so surely StarClan would have warned him if ThunderClan was in danger of meeting a terrible fate. Goosefeather had probably just imagined the prophecy, or misinterpreted it. He had done that before.

"Well, I'm going to head to the warriors' den for the night." Bluefur stood up. "I should make use of having a night off from the watch and get some sleep."

"Goodnight," Sunstar meowed, blinking warmly. "And think about what I said."

Bluefur flicked her ears. "I will."

The next day when Bluefur left the warriors' den, she found herself in a conversation about the recent Gathering with Thrushpelt and Whitestorm.

"Of course Raggedstar would say that," Thrushpelt was mewing.

Whitestorm nodded seriously. "I suppose he won't admit that his own cats trespassed even if they did. He has to save face."

"RiverClan and ShadowClan," Bluefur meowed darkly. "It is only a few cats but still, they keep pushing us." She flicked her ears nervously. The other Clans were walking a thin line right now. Trespassing on another Clan's territory during leaf-bare, even a less harsh one, was like asking for a clawed ear.

"Bluefur." Featherwhisker poked his head out of the medicine den. "Goosefeather would like to see you."

Thrushpelt and Whitestorm shared a bewildered glance. "We're kin," Bluefur meowed. "That must be why." They seemed to accept the explanation. Bluefur followed Featherwhisker into the medicine den.

Goosefeather was lying on a thick nest of moss and feathers. Oddly, his pelt wasn't as unkempt as usual; Bluefur guessed that Featherwhisker had groomed him. He gave a feeble cough as Bluefur settled herself beside him.

"Bluefur?" he rasped faintly. A wave of pity stabbed her belly.

"I'm here."

Goosefeather's gaze was absent, and Bluefur thought he had forgotten she was there until he spoke. "You should have listened." Bluefur tensed at the venom in his voice. "Now ThunderClan will fall. It is too late to go back."

"That's not true," Bluefur insisted gently. Goosefeather didn't know what he was saying, surely. "ThunderClan is strong."

Goosefeather shook his head. "Thistleclaw will lead this Clan to ruin! I have seen it. I know what is to come."

Bluefur let her tail brush his flank in a comforting gesture, a chill running through her pelt.

Goosefeather was silent for a long time, his chest rising and falling quickly as he took short, shallow breaths. "ThunderClan could have been great," he finally wheezed. "It would have survived for generations upon generations. But you just had to put yourself first." Goosefeather's pale blue eyes met hers for the first time, then they grew cold and distant. "You were the fire. But the fire is gone now. There is no fire. There is no-" he shifted his body, gasping. Bluefur smoothed the fur on his back with her tail.

Struggling for breath, Goosefeather raised his head and let out an anguished caterwaul. "Why me? Why was I destined to know these things? Can I not even die in peace?!" He broke off into a fit of choking coughs.

"It's okay," Bluefur soothed. "ThunderClan will be alright."

She sat there for what felt like moons, while Goosefeather's coughing turned into frail rasps. The pale gray tom was trembling now. Bluefur moved closer to him as the tremors grew weaker, pressing her fur against his. "ThunderClan will be alright," Bluefur repeated.

She shifted forward when Goosefeather beckoned her to lean closer. "No," he whispered, the light fading from his eyes.

Goosefeather stared at her, and then he was still.