AN: We're roughly halfway done now. Fun fact: I originally imagined Bluefur's Choice as a one shot. Haha, that didn't work.
Ok onto the news.
Just so everyone is clear, this story is going to get even darker in future chapters.
There's been a lot of intense stuff happening up to now, but in the context of this whole fic, well... you ain't seen nothing yet. This fic has a major character death warning and tragedy as its genre for a reason. If the character deaths and dark tone are bothering you at this point, you may want to turn back.
However if you're ok with intense dark stuff, full steam ahead!
"Tigerclaw, lead a raiding party on ShadowClan territory and give one of their border patrols a lesson they won't forget." It was a remark heard many times recently, and Bluefur was growing tired of hearing it.
"Of course, Thistlestar." Tigerclaw's meow was smooth, quite unlike what Bluefur would expect a cat would sound like when preparing for battle. She supposed he was used to fighting by now as he led most battle patrols; this wasn't news. He quickly beckoned Redtail, Willowpelt and Rosetail and led them out of the gorse tunnel at a run.
From her spot next to Thrushpelt, Bluefur sighed. Perhaps Tigerclaw would have had a chance if he hadn't been mentored by Thistlestar.
She glanced around, spotting Runningwind sitting next to Mistyfur by the elders' den, and at the sight of the swift tabby tom a memory flowed back into her mind. "Remember that one time Mosstail won a playfight with Runningwind?"
"Playfight?!" Mosstail appeared at Bluefur's shoulder and sat down next to her and Thrushpelt. "That was a mock fight. Big difference."
Thrushpelt blinked warmly. "I remember you didn't stop talking about it for days."
"I was nine moons old," Mosstail protested. "Nine moons! And Runningwind was about to become a warrior."
The conversation was cut off when Bluefur hissed; tiny thorns were pricking her tail. She whipped around, turning the full force of her glare on ThunderClan's only kit, who sheathed his claws guiltily. "Longkit!" she admonished him. "Didn't your mother tell you not to pounce on other cat's tails?"
"Sorry," Longkit squeaked, ducking his head.
"Well, see that it doesn't happen again." Bluefur fixed Longkit with a stern look, but softened when the young kit scuffed his paws against the ground. "Why don't you go chase some falling leaves?"
"I always chase leaves. It's boring. No one will play with me," Longkit complained. "All every cat talks about is the ShadowClan battle."
Bluefur sympathized with the young kit. He had no littermates and was the youngest cat in the Clan by seasons.
"You could practice hunting crouches," Bluefur suggested.
He narrowed his eyes. "Oh, like this?" Longkit hobbled unsteadily in a circle.
"I can do better than that!" Thrushpelt got up and began to stomp around playfully.
"You'd never catch prey if you do that!" Mosstail meowed, leaping to her paws. "You need to put more weight on your forepaws." Bluefur purred as Mosstail trod across the ground in loud heavy pawsteps, the complete opposite of how warriors hunted.
Thrushpelt nodded seriously. "You're right. You need even heavier pawsteps." Thrushpelt and Mosstail continued to stomp around as Longkit struggled to control his amused purrs.
Bluefur shook her head fondly. This was reminding her of all the times Thrushpelt had played with Stoneclaw, Mistyfur and Mosstail during their youngest moons.
"That's not how you hunt!" Longkit squeaked when Thrushpelt was done with his demonstration. "The prey would feel you through the ground!"
"Of course they do." Mosstail sat down, a mischievous glimmer in her blue eyes. "That's what you want! Your presence will strike fear into their hearts, and then they'll freeze, realizing the futility of trying to escape!"
Longkit let out a mrrow of amusement. "They'd run as soon as they heard you!" he protested.
"It's how I catch all my prey." Blinking warmly, Mosstail raised a paw and swiped it across her ear. The young striped tom gave her a disbelieving look. "Longkit, why don't I show you how to do a real hunter's crouch," mewed Mosstail, and immediately Longkit's eyes lit up.
He gave a little bounce. "Yes! Show me! Show me! Show me!"
Mosstail flattened herself against the ground and began to slowly creep forward. "See now, this is how you move so prey won't detect you. If you were to try and catch something..." She wriggled her haunches and sprang at a dead leaf. "You'd do it like that."
Frowning in concentration, Longkit crouched like Mosstail had except for his tail, which stuck up like a twig.
"Keep your tail lower," Mosstail encouraged him, and flicked her tail at the young kit's tail, gently pushing it so that it grazed the ground.
Readjusting his stance, Longkit stepped forward in quick, tiny pawsteps. Letting out a growl, he pounced on a battered patch of ground. Longkit puffed out his chest triumphantly. "I did it! Just like Mosstail!"
"Well done!" Mosstail exclaimed.
"I can hardly believe that was the first time you tried it!" Thrushpelt meowed.
Purring, Bluefur added her voice to the praise. "You'll make a fine warrior with hunting skills like that!"
"I hope you get to be my mentor." Longkit stared up at Mosstail in awe.
Mosstail twitched her whiskers sadly. "That will be Thistlestar's decision." Bluefur couldn't stop herself from thinking about how Mosstail had grown, from an anxious tiny kit to a mischievous apprentice to the skilled warrior she was now. Perhaps Bluefur was biased, but she thought Mosstail was one of the hardest working cats in the whole Clan. Stoneclaw and Mistyfur too. But as she looked around and saw Thistlestar sharing a rabbit with Whitestorm she felt a burst of anger. Thistlestar had his clear favorites, and Bluefur's youngest daughter wasn't one of them. With Thistlestar as leader, would Mosstail ever receive an apprentice?
Maybe, Bluefur hoped. As she saw Mosstail instructing Longkit on the proper way to hunt various types of prey she couldn't help but be optimistic.
The quarter moon following the battle had marked a turning point in the impasse the forest had been under since ThunderClan expanded into RiverClan's territory. Unlike RiverClan, ShadowClan had not been so soundly defeated. They apparently realized they wouldn't win a head on attack, but began to send patrols into ThunderClan territory to hunt under the noses of their enemies. Thistlestar ordered an increase in ShadowClan border patrols, so much so that it cut into the number of hunting patrols sent out. To combat this, all ShadowClan border patrols were expected to hunt as well.
With all the problems with ShadowClan, Bluefur was surprised when RiverClan started causing issues.
Later that morning, Darkstripe raced into the camp, followed closely by Mousefur and Brindleface. "Thistlestar! I have important news!" Darkstripe yowled, and cats began to gather in the main clearing. "I found RiverClan scent on Sunningrocks! A whole patrol of them must have been there this morning!"
Murmurs of shock rippled across the clearing. Thistlestar had vowed to attack the RiverClan camp if they trespassed on Sunningrocks. Would he follow through even though ThunderClan was in a serious conflict with ShadowClan as well?
"They're testing us," Thistlestar hissed, beginning to pace. "They think we won't invade their camp. We need to show them that ThunderClan keeps its promises."
More meowing rumbled through the crowd.
Bluefur raised her voice above those of her Clanmates. "Why not just fight them off from Sunningrocks? Surely there is no need to attack their camp; this is their first instance of trespassing in many moons."
Thistlestar acted as though he hadn't heard Bluefur speak. "This patrol will set out to attack the RiverClan camp right away." Closing his eyes, he began to list names, pausing between each one. "Dappletail. Smallear. Thrushpelt. Mosstail. Whitestorm." There was an even longer pause. "Bluefur."
"Can I go?" Darkstripe spoke up hopefully. "I was the one who found the scent-"
"Very well, Darkstripe, you can lead the patrol."
Bluefur froze. This was insane! They were attacking the RiverClan camp to prove a point, not because there was an actual threat, and the Clan's least experienced warrior was leading them!
Chin raised, Darkstripe waved his tail to beckon the warriors to follow. Bluefur reluctantly joined the group, paws pulsing with dread. When every cat had gathered by the gorse tunnel, Darkstripe flicked his tail. "Let's go."
They headed into the forest. She fell into step beside Thrushpelt and Mosstail and decided to use the moment to give her daughter some needed advice. "This will be a tough fight," she meowed quietly as they made their way closer to the RiverClan border. "Don't take unnecessary risks."
"What?" Mosstail bristled indignantly. "I'm not a kit anymore; I've fought my share of battles."
"Not in another Clan's camp," Bluefur replied darkly. "This is different from a simple border raid; you'll be attacking warriors while kits and elders are sheltering nearby. It will make your enemies all the more desperate." She shivered, remembering her mother's death in the WindClan camp all those seasons ago. "You'd be surprised what cats are willing to do to protect their home."
Thrushpelt nodded his agreement. "We all need to be careful. Cats could die if neither side backs down."
They had soon made it to the stepping stones. After a moment of warily eyeing the swift moving current, Darkstripe began to quickly cross the rocks. The rest of the patrol followed in silence.
From the scent of RiverClan in the air, Bluefur would have known they were close to the camp even if she hadn't seen it before. Her paws sank into the muddy ground as they left the trees behind and followed a path through the reeds. They were too exposed for Bluefur's liking, and she bristled as they settled themselves just outside the RiverClan camp, and waited for Darkstripe's orders.
The dark tom didn't speak. The cats waited in confusion for Darkstripe to do something. He hadn't given any instructions on attack strategy yet and they were already right next to the camp. Another cat would have told them about what to expect, when to retreat, anything. But Darkstripe was silent.
Until suddenly he let out a yowl. "ThunderClan, attack!" Bristling in what appeared to be a mixture of eagerness and terror, Darkstripe barreled through the entrance and into the RiverClan camp.
He was out of sight now. Bluefur hissed; they were at a poor location and instead of surrounding the camp to take RiverClan by surprise, they were all going in at once. She cursed Thistlestar for appointing such an inexperienced warrior to lead the patrol. But there was no time to think about that now. She was the last to enter the camp and was met with a gale of screeches.
A brown warrior sprang at Bluefur; she jumped sideways herself and faced the tom, growling. Using an old trick she had learned from Sunstar, she aimed for the warrior's shoulder while staring at his paws.
The warrior was unprepared for her and crashed into the ground. The two struggled there, claws digging into the marshy soil as they rolled through the clearing. Bluefur lashed out with her hind paws, leaving deep gashes on the warrior's belly. The warrior was completely exposed now, unable to roll away or fight back. Bluefur was in the perfect spot to end it; if she had been a warrior like Tigerclaw or Thistlestar she might have used this moment to claw out her enemy's throat.
Bluefur couldn't bring herself to give the killing blow. She needed to let him go. But as soon as she let the tom out of her grasp she felt a jolt of horror. His paw swung downward, aiming for her throat...
Thrushpelt appeared out of nowhere, tackling the RiverClan warrior to the ground with the strength of a TigerClan cat, and the tom's claws which had been about to meet Bluefur's neck slashed straight through Thrushpelt's ear.
At that moment she could understand why cats like Thistlestar were so ruthless; one's enemies could be ruthless too. Panting, Bluefur nodded her thanks and rejoined the fight at Thrushpelt's side. That had been close. Hadn't she told Mosstail to be careful, and here she was barely escaping with her life?
The battle went on. Bluefur gained a gash on her shoulder and a bite wound to her foreleg. Blood trickled down Thrushpelt's face from his split ear. ThunderClan was sorely outnumbered.
A primal shriek rose into the air; the black RiverClan tom Blackclaw was pinning a smaller ThunderClan cat, slashing again and again. A yowl pierced her ears once more.
Bluefur recognized the voice. Darkstripe! As irritated as she was with the young warrior she didn't want him to die! She slammed into Blackclaw, twisting him around and away from Darkstripe.
Deep claw marks crisscrossed Darkstripe's face, just whisker lengths from his eyes. He let out a howl and sprinted from the battle. Bluefur waited for him to give the order to retreat but he had already vanished behind the reed barrier. She threw herself back into the fight; hopefully Darkstripe was taking a moment to lick his wounds before he came back.
Darkstripe didn't return though. Whitestorm and Dappletail were trading blows with Crookedstar and two other RiverClan warriors. Thrushpelt was grappling with Leopardfur, while Mosstail was weaving between the rest of the RiverClan cats. None of them seemed to notice Darkstripe had disappeared.
It was clear now that Darkstripe wasn't coming back, and Bluefur realized that some cat needed to take charge. They needed to get out before someone got killed. She swerved around a group of RiverClan apprentices and bounded over to Smallear's side; the tom was lying belly down against the damp ground.
Smallear groaned, blood smearing the ground when he leaned his flank against it. "My leg."
"Don't give up!" Bluefur roughly nudged him. "You need to get out of here!"
Smallear responded through gritted teeth. "But Darkstripe-"
"Darkstripe left." Bluefur lashed her tail; it had been foolish to give such an inexperienced warrior a leading role. "Come on now, Smallear, if you can make it out of the camp it's not far from the river. Take the path back; the rest of us will catch up."
Smallear slowly rolled to his paws, and Bluefur noted with a pang of relief that his movement didn't renew the flow of blood from his injury. He limped away. Bluefur distracted the RiverClan warriors from his escape by hurtling herself into the middle of the crowd.
She waited for his gray pelt to disappear beyond the screen of reeds before she raised her head. "ThunderClan! Retreat!"
The ThunderClan cats wriggled away from the warriors they had been grappling with, but RiverClan still wasn't finished. As they darted across the ground RiverClan cats continued to chase them. One warrior, a small tortoiseshell she-cat, rushed Whitestorm, but the big white warrior easily shook her off. Another leaped at Mosstail, wrapping his forelegs around her neck and churning his hind claws against her belly.
Bluefur hurtled toward him, slamming him aside. Another cat appeared next to them and aimed a pounce at Mosstail's shoulder. Mosstail let out a yowl when the tom pinned her foreleg with his claws.
"Let her go!" Snarling, Bluefur wrenched the warrior off Mosstail with all of her strength. She, Thrushpelt, and Mosstail ran, and Bluefur wasn't sure if she was imagining the shrieks of cats giving chase. She followed the scent trail of Smallear, Whitestorm and Dappletail, not looking back.
The ThunderClan cats quickly came into view. Bluefur raced to the front of the group. "Is everyone here?" she called over her shoulder. "Dappletail? Smallear? Whitestorm?"
"Here."
"Here."
"Here."
Bluefur directed an encouraging mew toward Smallear. "Keep up! Quickly now; we must get back to ThunderClan territory." She turned to Whitestorm and Dappletail. "Help him."
"Where is Darkstripe?" Whitestorm panted, falling back to help Smallear along.
"Ran off," Bluefur answered, raising her nose to pick up a scent trail. Darkstripe had been here; he must have returned to ThunderClan territory already.
As the river came into view, jeers echoed in the distance. Bluefur sprinted the last few fox-lengths to the stepping stones. It could be a matter of moments before RiverClan caught up.
"Go!" Bluefur stood aside, allowing Dappletail to start crossing first. "I'll keep watch at the back." Thrushpelt went next, the blood from his split ear dripping onto the smooth stones. Mosstail followed him, holding her injured foreleg close to her chest as she moved from rock to rock. Only Smallear and Whitestorm were left now. "Help Smallear; I'll keep a lookout for RiverClan."
Whitestorm nodded and indicated to Smallear that he should go first. Smallear jumped, his paws barely avoiding the river, and Whitestorm darted across the gap, ready to catch the older cat if he fell. One by one, Dappletail, Mosstail, and Thrushpelt sprang between the stepping stones and made it to the ThunderClan side. Whitestorm and Smallear made slower progress.
She waited at the shoreline on the RiverClan side for her Clanmates to cross; while she didn't want to spend any more time in RiverClan than was necessary, if they showed up she needed to be able to fight them on even ground. It would be difficult to fend them off while trying to balance on the stepping stones at the same time. Progress was painstakingly slow for Smallear; his injuries were much more serious than she'd realized judging from his growls of pain whenever he made a leap.
When Smallear and Whitestorm reached the halfway point, she decided to head after them. Bluefur leaped along the stepping stones. She wasn't a heartbeat to soon; the moment her paws touched the first stone a renewed spattering of yowls pierced the air from the RiverClan side. She gave them a challenging glare, daring them to follow, but the RiverClan cats halted at the water's edge.
Soon the RiverClan warriors gave up and padded away from the border. Exhaustion set in to Bluefur's muscles, and it looked like it had for the rest of the patrol too. Every cat's tail drooped.
"What happened to Darkstripe?" Dappletail meowed.
Bluefur shook her head. "He left without giving the order to retreat." At her Clanmates' outraged looks she gave another shake of her head; assigning blame wouldn't help right now. "Come on; let's go home." They progressed slowly, and Smallear's breath was coming in sharp gasps. The entire group was covered in cuts and scrapes. Thank StarClan we all made it out alive.
A single thought rose to the forefront of Bluefur's mind as they headed through the familiar patches of trees and undergrowth. With the way the fight had been going, they were lucky. ThunderClan had kept Thistlestar's promise to attack the RiverClan camp, but it could have ended so much worse. She let out a rasping purr when Thrushpelt's fur brushed her flank; she would thank him fully for saving her life when they were home. Soon they would be able to receive treatment for their injuries and curl up in a warm nest.
Finally they made it to the ravine. Bluefur was about to pad down the slope without hesitation when she noticed Thrushpelt squinting through the trees. "Do you smell that?" he hissed.
Bluefur froze. ShadowClan. Yowls reached her ears, just like the ones she had heard from the other side of the river. They were attacking the camp.