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Title: Deep Dive

Summary: In a world where ThunderClan absorbed ShadowClan seasons ago, young warrior Weaselface is tasked to rebuild the fourth Clan and take her place as leader. But how can she betray all she's ever known and loved, all on the word of one ghost with a grudge?

Chapter Title: Revelation

...

Weaselface felt adrenaline in her legs as she carefully crept forward, peering out of the bushes. Dovefrost waved her fluffy white tail to cease, and she did so. Her old mentor's ear flicked towards Birchfoot; who, in turn, gave Bumblepaw a pointed nudge. Bumblepaw gave an excited little bounce and began to stalk closer. The apprentice was fluid as she cautiously put one paw in front of the other, tail quivering from the effort to hold it out straight.

Weaselface's eyes darted anxiously toward the blackbird. The morsel was beginning to hop away, searching for better worms to snack on. It wouldn't be long now before it took off completely. She tensed, about to give Bumblepaw some backup, but Dovefrost gave her a very pointed jab and she settled. Weaselface pouted.

The bird stretched out its wings, and in that moment Bumblepaw shot out of hiding. The blackbird startled and took off, but the second of hesitation was all she needed; she bunched her legs and leapt, catching its mid-air. She landed and quickly sank her teeth into its neck.

"That was amazing!" Birchfoot gushed, coming up on his apprentice's side with a proud gleam to his eyes. "Where'd you learn that trick, huh? I certainly didn't teach it to you."

Bumblepaw shrugged, torn between bragging and being sheepish about the whole thing. "I thought it'd look cool."

Dovefrost slunk out next, looking thoughtful. "It's a great last resort, but I'd keep it to a minimum when catching prey is necessity." The molly snuck Weaselface a disappointed look. "And next time, we should be a bit more patient."

Weaselface sank her claws into the dirt, pelt hot. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just getting hungry."

"Didn't you eat before we left?"

"Yeah, a vole."

"Eat more when we get back," Dovefrost meowed, as if this were great wisdom. "For now, let's stop and get a drink. Maybe it'll help curb the slobber, eh?"

Bumblepaw scraped some dirt over her blackbird. "I could go for a drink."

Weaselface let the 'paw take the lead, deeply embarrassed. Every pawstep made her want to dig a hole and hide as she steadfastly ignored Bumblepaw's questioning glance over her shoulder. What kind of warrior makes a scene during another cat's assessment?

Dovefrost seemed to sense her conflicted feelings, picking up the pace to rub soothingly against her. "You're just hungry, that's all. No one's at their best hungry."

"I already had my fill."

"If you were eating for just one, yeah, but you're not."

Weaselface flinched so hard she almost tripped. "You know?"

Dovefrost stifled a laugh with a cough. "Weasel, dear, you're far enough along to show."

"Yeah," she said, trying awkwardly to cover up the beginning of a bump with her stride, "but no one else-"

"Most cats don't go sniffing at each other's bellies for nothing. But you've been smelling off to me for a bit now, and I already suspected. How far are you? Two weeks?"

Weaselface groaned and nodded. The rush of a stream stopped Dovefrost from going on. Thankful for the break in what was quickly becoming a weird conversation, the new warrior picked up the pace, dipping her nose into the cold spray. Her stomach clenched at the chill, but the water was so delicious she kept on drinking anyway.

"See if you can find Smokescar," Dovefrost instructed Bumblepaw, who licked her lips and bounded off. The white molly studied her a long moment before asking; "Does Adderpelt know?"

She choked mid-swallow, breaking off into a coughing fit. Weaselface glared at her, feeling her throat burn. "What does that mean?"

The molly shrugged. "I figured he was the donor. He is, right?"

Weaselface opened her mouth, then closed it, undecided. It was tempting to lie, no doubt about it, but that wouldn't be fair to Adderpelt. However, in a way, it was comforting to know the misconception was happening even without his express permission; that not even her old mentor had suspected what had really come of the night she slipped out of camp.

"He doesn't know," she said finally.

Dovefrost wiped her wet chin on her arm. "You might wanna tell him soon, then. Before the rest of the Clan beats you to it." She licked her cheek, leaving a stripe of cool wetness behind. "For what it's worth, I think you'll be a good mother."

Weaselface stared at the face in the river. It look scared and hollow. It occurred to her, suddenly, that she'd been so worried about telling everyone that she hadn't given even the slightest thought to what they'd be like, or the kind of mother she'd be. "For their sake, I hope you're right."


"I'm just saying it's a bit early for an assessment, that's all," Smokescar argued as the other patrol approached. With him was his apprentice, Ratpaw, as well as Flintpoppy and Fogfur. None of them held prey. "Spiderstar can't possibly expect the kids to know how to catch birds already, can they?"

Bumblepaw awkwardly pushed the blackbird behind her. "I was lucky," she told Ratpaw as he slunk over, ashamed. "It almost got away, too. Just ask Birchfoot."

Ratpaw's tail lashed. "I would've gotten a crow," he grumbled, "if dad didn't start yowling."

"It was too big! You could've been hurt." The black tom nudged him supportively. "You'll get it next time, sport."

"I could've gotten it today! You just wouldn't let me."

Smokescar ignored him, flicking an ear towards camp. Dovefrost took the lead, flanked by Fogfur. The gray tabby looked rather bored with the whole affair. Flintpoppy shyly brushed pelts with Weaselface as she moved past. Weaselface took up the back, watching with an odd sense of sadness as Bumblepaw wrapped her tail around Ratpaw's haunches. This is why kin shouldn't mentor kin. Especially kin like Smokescar.

They dispersed within ThunderClan's walls. Weaselface watched as Birchfoot and Smokescar hopped up the stones and vanished into the leader's den. Dovefrost shot her one last look before trotting away, calling a greeting to Brackenpelt. She could just barely make out Sweetshine and Nutstripe commiserating in a shadowy corner, tails intertwined. They're probably talking about Antpaw.

Adderpelt was grabbing a rabbit from the fresh-kill pile when he spotted her. The black and white tom's eyes lit up as he gestured for her to come closer. This is as good a time as ever, Weaselface thought, puffing out her chest. It didn't make her feel any less terrified.

"How'd it go?" Adderpelt asked as she grew nearer, shuffling over so she could settle in by him.

Weaselface didn't take the unspoken invitation, sitting in front of the rabbit. "Smokescar ruined Ratpaw's chances again, but Bumblepaw did pretty good."

"I still don't see why Spiderstar gave Smokescar his own son. We all knew it was going to be a disaster."

"I mean, who else could take him? All the other warriors were training us."

"Switch out Birchfoot and Smokescar. Bam. Everyone has a decent mentor." Adderpelt cocked his head to the side. "What's the matter? You love rabbit."

"I'm... just nervous, is all."

"Oh?"

"Dovefrost was giving me dung again."

He rolled his eyes. "Dovefrost is a great mentor, but she couldn't curb her tongue if she rammed it into a wall."

Weaselface laughed a little, uncomfortable. "You know how you said I could talk to you? A-About... you know?"

Adderpelt's eyes grew wide at the waver in her voice. He got to his paws, drawing her in with a comforting purr. She buried her face in his scruff. "I miss him too," he admitted. "Everyone keeps acting like he never existed, but..."

"That's kind of the problem," meowed Weaselface. "I'm pregnant, Adderpelt."

She felt him tense underneath her chin.

"Oh," he said finally. "Congratulations. I-If you want them, of course."

Weaselface hesitated. That was the easy part. "Dovefrost thought they were yours."

Adderpelt blinked. He seemed lost in thought as he edged back slightly, meeting her eyes. There was fear in his features, the twinge of his whiskers, but he tried to smile. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." He looked around, as if expecting someone to be listening in, before going on; "They can be. Mine, I mean."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I've always liked kits." He perked up a little, the idea sinking in and becoming more and more comfortable as he spoke. "And it'd get my dad off our backs. Everybody wins, right?"

"I think I'd like to go on patrols and stuff. When the kits get big enough. Would you be okay watching them?"

"Absolutely!" Adderpelt wound himself around her again, this time to bump noses. "I'd never ask you to leave your warrior duties behind. We can work out a schedule- I take some days and you take others." He was starting to get excited now, bouncing a little. "Just imagine their little paws! Oh, stars, I'll bet they crawl everywhere."

Weaselface groaned. "They're going to drive me crazy, I can tell." Still, the idea was borderline perfect, wasn't it? Adderpelt was basically handing her social security, even if he didn't perceive it that way, and he was patient enough to correct any mistakes she might make. They could raise a decent litter together. But.. "What if they look like him?"

The black and white tom froze. The idea of seeing their dead Clanmate so soon haunted both of them. "I guess we could play it off as my blood? I'm black and white, Antpaw was black and white spots." He stopped, then added, the concept clearing discomforting, "And we could maybe name it Antkit to remember him? To get rid of any suspicion."

The she-cat's stomach squeezed, as if the kittens inside heard and refused. She shook her head. "Naming kits after a dead cat feels... tacky. Maybe another insect, if we have to? Beetlekit, or something."

"That wouldn't be too bad," he agreed, visibly relieved.

"Ooh, rabbit!" meowed Fogfur, who gladly took the open spot Adderpelt had left behind. She ripped a decent-sized chunk off and swallowed. "What're we talking about over here, anyway?"

Weaselface looked at Adderpelt. He was staring at her, a million questions in his eyes. She nodded.

The warrior quickly shoved his way between Fogfur and the fresh-kill. "Kit names. Now, gimme that. Weasel needs plenty of food."

The tabby's eyes lit up. "You're gonna have kits? That's amazing!" Fogfur gently headbutted her shoulder. "I could mentor one of them!"

"Yeah," said Weaselface, surprised to find herself disappointed. What's wrong with me? This is everything I should ever want. A good friend, a good future, and some half-decent Clanmates. "Maybe."

Author's Note: We'll be getting into the meat of the Antpaw lore soon enough. For now, have awkward kids being awkward first-time parents in the making.

-Mandaree1