Bluestar paced anxiously in her den, waiting for news of Fireheart. Yellowfang had forbidden anyone else from entering her den while she was treating the young tom. Cinderpaw had been distraught of her mentor's physical state. The poor apprentice was so worried about her mentor that she refused to eat anything. She just wasn't the same Cinderpaw every cat knew. Brackenpaw and Frostfur had tried to get her to eat, but she kept on refusing.

However, Fireheart would probably never be the same cat if she survived this. He had known all about Nutmeg from before he had even joined ThunderClan. He had agreed to go with Bluestar and the rest of her traveling companions despite the dangers that laid in their wake. He had been taken hostage by his own mother, who had gone insane, and had been forced to kill her to put her out of her misery. Bluestar could never ask any more from any of her warriors. Fireheart had suffered so much in the past few days - these injuries would be lasting, according to Yellowfang.

Graystripe and Sandstorm were worried sick about their friend. Brackenpaw was concerned, and Longtail looked scared out of his mind, even though he had tried not to. Why Longtail behaved like that was a complete and utter mystery to Bluestar. He had challenged, fought, and lost a battle against Fireheart. The pale tabby tom had despised the orange warrior ever since day one. So why suddenly start caring? He seemed to care about Fireheart as more than a Clanmate, than a friend.. but why?

I knew I recognized that look in Longtail's eyes, Bluestar thought. He looked moon. I guess he's in love.

Bluestar pushed that thought away as she drew herself out of her den. Squeezing through the lichen curtain that shielded her den from public vision and blaring sunlight, she noticed the Clan looked more subdued and quiet than the usual, bustling, chatty Clan that she knew. She looked toward Yellowfang's den, and a burst of anxiety pulsed through her as the old medicine cat raced out of her den.

"Bluestar!" Yellowfang called over her shoulder, not even seeming to care about privacy or quiet manners. "Sit with Fireheart until I get back!"

Without another word, or allowing Bluestar time to respond, the former ShadowClan medicine cat darted out of the camp. She was running faster than Bluestar had ever seen a cat run before. Although, the ThunderClan leader did make her way across the clearing and into the medicine cat den. She came to the section of the medicine den where Fireheart was laying unconscious and wounded.

Bluestar's heart cracked into pieces at the sight of her former apprentice. He was laying on his side, cobwebs and herbal poultices plastered to his wounds. His eyes were closed and his flame-colored fur was dull. His flanks were rising and falling shakily and faintly as each breath he took rasped in his throat. He looked skinnier and weaker than he had day before. Fireheart was almost like a son to her. She felt like a mother figure to him rather than Nutmeg being a mother figure.

Fireheart suddenly muttered something in his sleep. She crept closer to him, drawing her hindquarters beneath her as she sat down next to the young tom. He twitched in his sleep and his breathing grew faster in no time at all.

"Uh..." Bluestar wasn't sure what to do. She had a feeling something was wrong, but she wasn't a medicine cat. The blue-gray leader could only wait anxiously for Yellowfang to return. And as if StarClan had read her mind, Yellowfang burst through the entrance of her den with cobwebs in her jaws.

She dropped the cobwebs and crouched next to Fireheart. She placed her steady paws against his chest as if she were feeling for something. "Get out," ordered Yellowfang.

"What?"

"Get out."

"Alright," Bluestar agreed reluctantly.

Bluestar padded out of the medicine cat den. She started pacing the clearing, waiting for Yellowfang to appear at the entrance of her den and say Fireheart was okay. But that's not what happened.

Sandstorm and Graystripe sat huddled with Longtail just outside the warriors' den, while Brackenpaw licked Cinderpaw's ears comfortingly as they waited impatiently for Yellowfang's hopefully-soon announcement. However, that's not what happened. They were waiting ever since sunhigh. Yellowfang finally walked out of her den at dusk. Her broad, gray head was hung low as a sort of grief-like gesture. Then the old medicine cat raised her head and spoke up to the hushed Clan.

"Fireheart is dead."