Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors or many characters featured in this story. The only things I own are the storyline and the original characters featured in this story.

CHAPTER TEN

BRAMBLECLAW

Sticky waves of blood lapped at him, darkness obscuring his vision beyond his immediate surroundings. The blood swirled around his paws, thick and heavy, seeping through his fur and filling his nose with its smell. When he tried to step away, out of its embrace, he found himself bound to the ground. The blood clutched at his legs, firmly entrapping him where he stood, as the darkness stretched its tendrils out and curling itself about his body, immobilizing him and reducing any struggles to tiny twitches. Slowly, ever so slowly, the blood crawled up his legs, soaked his belly and back fur, reached for his neck.

And he could only watch, horrified and frozen, as it consumed him, little by little.

And then -

Heat.

The viscous liquid withdrew instantly at its touch as it washed over him. It left behind dry, unruffled fur, as if it had never been there in the first place. Red and orange and yellow flames leaped abruptly into his face, no more than a tail-length away, the brightness dazzling. When he leaned back instinctively, he discovered he could move again. He sucked in a startled breath and began straining to free himself.

This time, they released him unwillingly. The fire pressed closer, and then the pools of blood were gone, the darkness retreating reluctantly before the dancing flames. Only the crackle and hiss of fire remained as it encircled him. Terror of the flames fought the comfort it seemed to bring.

Gradually, the sphere widened, allowing him greater mobility, but it burned all the brighter as it did so. The colors imprinted themselves into his eyes, leaving behind a muddled and fuzzy image of the flames in his mind.

And in the flames, Pinestar's form flickered before him. His words echoed in his ears, his simple phrase offering no more explanation than it did every other time he heard it.

"Your refuge lies in fire."

As he blinked away the sudden brightness, he suddenly realized: There were holes in the fire, gaps in the safety, in which what lay beyond could seep back through. They shifted in and out of existence, as if uncertain of themselves and where they wanted to be. He caught a glimpse out of his safe haven prison, where the darkness congregated after being pushed back by the flames.

And in the darkness, immense shapes loomed, things that could not be kept at bay by the fire forever, their imposing shadows huge and menacing...

Brambleclaw startled awake with a gasp, flying to his paws. His breath caught in his throat as he looked around wildly, the dream still swimming in his mind. After a moment, the realization that he was no longer asleep hit him. Nonetheless, he couldn't banish the memory quite so easily. The shadows seemed to close in, and he screwed his eyes shut as he remembered the shapes held within.

Heart pounding wildly, he stiffened his shoulders, bringing them in close to his body, as he struggled to control his panting breaths. They came out heavy and irregular, despite Brambleclaw's best attempts to quell them. Glancing nervously around, relief swept over him when he saw that none of the other warriors in the den with him had been woken by his own awakening.

That check taken care of, Brambleclaw slowly forced his breathing to return to normal. As he took one deep breath after another, his racing pulse gradually settled until he could relax his tense muscles. Soon, he could think clearly on his dream, the lingering feeling of terror even after awakening drifting away.

This wasn't the first time he'd had such a dream. One moon had come and gone since the visit from his grandfather, and intermittently since then, his sleep had been disturbed by the nightmares. They never occurred more than once in a half-moon, and he had yet to determine whether there was any pattern to them. Afterwards, he always woke shaken and afraid, and the effects and memory of it would linger on for most of the day.

Despite all his thinking—with Ashfur's teasing but supportive remarks and Rainwhisker's dry but insightful interjections as commentary—Brambleclaw still was no closer to solving it.

Was Pinestar referring to literal fire? Would there be a wildfire or something similar that would drive BloodClan out? Or maybe he meant that somewhere, somehow, fire would burn away deceit to reveal a mystery? Guide him and his friends to a place that could help them?

Rainwhisker had suggested that it might be a cat who had ginger fur, such as Firestar. Brambleclaw remembered vividly and with a twinge of pain how his former mentor's pelt would turn into fire under the sun. Perhaps the fire would be Squirrelkit, but honestly he had a lot of difficulty seeing the young and brash kit as the savior of the Clans. It just didn't fit quite right when he imagined her standing against BloodClan, the four Clans gathered behind her. Maybe it was because he still saw her as a kit, but still...

He shook his head and put it on his paws, hesitantly settling back down into his nest. Lying awake until sun-rise wouldn't help him much; Brambleclaw had gone over possible meanings dozens of times already. He had a feeling he wouldn't know what it really meant until it actually came to pass.

That didn't comfort him in at all. Brambleclaw had no idea when it would come to pass, when the war would end, and he didn't even know what to really look for when it did come close. And knowing he couldn't do much about it didn't help the tabby to dispel the nightmares afterwards.

So many things to fear in the dreams. His fur prickled nervously at the mere thought of the writhing darkness, the sticky, lapping blood, the fire that simultaneously protected and terrified him.

And those shapes...

In the den, surrounded by his serene, slumbering Clanmates, it wasn't the slightest bit cold, but Brambleclaw shivered.

Brambleclaw couldn't get back to sleep for a long time. He just lay there, head down and eyes closed, breathing as deeply and evenly as he could manage, but each time sleep almost claimed him, he would remember with a start the shapes. He could almost imagine them lurking in the den walls, ready to lunge out at him — as ludicrous as the idea was when he thought back on it. Regardless, Brambleclaw went through such a cycle several times, before finally he managed to fall completely asleep.

Fortunately, once he finally managed to nod off again, his sleep was relatively peaceful.

Unfortunately, it didn't last as long as he would've liked.

"Help! Help!"

Almost immediately, the whole den was awake, far too accustomed to abrupt wake-ups coming in the form of cries like that. Brambleclaw was on his paws and blinking sleep from his eyes in an instant. Cats stepped out all around him. He shook out his fur and stumbled outside with them. The tabby yawned widely in the early morning light; the sky was mostly dark, though through the leaves he could see hints of the coming sunrise.

"What's wrong?" someone called.

Brambleclaw cleared his head with a quick shake and looked up to see a frantic tom panting in their camp, head down and chest heaving. A small statue, dark gray fur, young features — he thought he remembered this cat being from ShadowClan, though his name escaped him. The night guards, Ashfur and Brackenfur stood behind him.

"Attack on ShadowClan?" Cloudtail asked grimly, stepping up to him and confirming his Clan. Brambleclaw's heart skipped a beat. Tawnypelt! Was his sister still alive?

The tom nodded, looking up at the white warrior with wide eyes, still struggling for breath. Brambleclaw was suddenly hit with a sense of déjà vu, reminded of when a WindClan cat burst into camp — twice, in fact — and announced that they were under attack, every time one of his own Clanmates raced in to give notice of a skirmish on the border.

"How big?" asked Graystar urgently, coming up beside to the two cats.

"Too big," he replied — his words sent chills through the Clan — and continued pleadingly, "Please, hurry! I don't know how long we can last." Tremors rippled through him as his round gaze swept around ThunderClan's camp.

Brambleclaw looked at his leader to see how he would send them on their way, paws prickling with urgency, and for just the briefest of moments, he saw Graystar's eyes shut tightly, something flashing over his face. Then it was gone, and he was standing tall and strong once more.

"Brackenfur and Ashfur, stay here, keep guarding," Graystar ordered loudly. "Everyone else, get to ShadowClan's camp! There's not a moment to lose!"

He and Mousefur led the charge. Brambleclaw followed swiftly despite the exhaustion dragging at his limbs. He had to help his sister.

The battle between ShadowClan and BloodClan spilled out well beyond the confines of their camp. Though the majority of the fighting seemed to be taking place inside, there were no small number of cats who grappled with each other outside. As the closest in proximity to ShadowClan, ThunderClan was the first of the reinforcements to arrive for a change.

Strength flooded back into Brambleclaw when he caught sight of the battle. He shed the weariness like water and tensed, ready to fight.

This time, BloodClan was ready for a counterattack from behind. As ThunderClan approached, all those outside camp not currently struggling with a ShadowClan warrior turned to confront the newcomers. Brambleclaw swallowed nervously as he saw just how outnumbered they currently were.

WindClan and RiverClan better get here soon. Otherwise... He didn't dare finish the thought but knew what would happen regardless. Instead, he scanned for Tawnypelt, but couldn't see her. He swallowed his panic — she was probably just fighting inside her camp.

"Attack!" Graystar snarled, and then his world erupted into battle again.

ThunderClan was outmatched by far, even with ShadowClan fighting by their side, but they heeded their leader and leaped forward, claws outstretched. Brambleclaw aimed for a spotted tom but the tom threw himself back to evade his sharp claws. Brambleclaw had barely landed before he was abruptly bowled over by another enemy.

The second tom hissed in his face, malice gleaming in dark eyes. He drew back a paw, but Brambleclaw slashed upwards at his neck. The tom yowled and fell back, blood spurting from his new wound. He shook his head and snarled, baring sharp teeth as Brambleclaw's original target came up beside him. The two were almost immediately joined by a she-cat, and all of them glared at him darkly. Brambleclaw gulped and braved himself.

The spotted tom came first, but the she-cat launched herself after him only seconds later. Brambleclaw met the tom's assault easily, ducking around his attacks and raking his claws down his legs. The tom grunted and tried to retreat to gain some distance, but then a startled cry was torn from him as the she-cat, following behind him, collided into him. Both staggered forward, and Brambleclaw, caught by surprise, failed to move in time. He grunted as both rolled on top of him.

Fur pressed into his nose and mouth. He writhed beneath them, unable to move much with their weight pressing him to the ground. Fortunately, neither of them seemed very capable of striking at him, both struggling just as much as he was. The two BloodClan cats were tangled in each other in a mass of fur and muscle, trapping the ThunderClan warrior beneath them. Brambleclaw growled frustratedly, trying to free himself, and then abruptly, the weight was gone.

He drew in a deep breath as he scrambled upright, looking around and taking in the scene.

The second tom was staring with befuddlement in his eyes, seeming frozen to the spot in shock and confusion. His gaze was directed at his two allies, who finally were coming to their senses and breaking apart the ball they had gotten jumbled up in. They glared at each other angrily; they almost seemed to have forgotten the battle around them and were about to tear viciously into each other.

And directly in front of him stood a familiar gray tom. Rainwhisker crouched low to the ground, back legs coiled and ready to spring at a moment's notice. It was he whom had knocked the two BloodClan cats off of Brambleclaw.

Rainwhisker sent him a faintly amused look over his shoulder. As Brambleclaw stepped up beside his friend, the other warrior quipped, "I'm no Ashfur, but seeing as how he's too lazy to help out today, I'll have to do. Hope you can manage."

Brambleclaw snorted. "I think I can. The question is, can you?"

"I wonder," he retorted, and they advanced.

"Get ahold of yourselves!" the second tom snarled at his allies, and — although their fur bristled and they cast venomous looks at him — they took a rain check on their anger at each other and turned to face the two ThunderClan warriors.

Too late. The warriors struck before they could completely turn their focuses back toward the ongoing battle.

Brambleclaw and Rainwhisker were not perfectly in-synch — they hadn't fought together enough times to gain that deep of a sense for each other's movements — but their coordination was vastly superior compared to their foes. Despite being outnumbered, they easily matched the three cats.

The BloodClan fighters were each strong and fierce individually, but when forced to work together, all they did was hinder each other's movements. When the she-cat stepped forward and lashed out, the second tom tripped over her paw as he tried to lunge for Brambleclaw's throat and ended up sprawled on the ground. The she-cat stumbled, trodding on the downed tom and knocking the other tom off-balance in the process. Both hissed furiously at her, and all three floundered, trying to regain their paws.

Meanwhile, Brambleclaw and Rainwhisker coordinated their efforts. As one, they leaped onto their enemies, snarling. Brambleclaw slammed into the she-cat and latched his teeth in her shoulder, digging his claws into her as she struggled to get loose. Rainwhisker darted forward and swept the upright tom's legs out from under him. While the tom crashed heavily to the dirt, Rainwhisker pounced on the other tom.

Finally, with one last effort, the she-cat pulled loose from Brambleclaw and fled, blood soaking her shoulder. He spat out the tangy liquid and dropped back down to all fours, turning to see if Rainwhisker needed any help.

He didn't. Brambleclaw saw one of the tom's tails vanish as he fled. The other tom was already gone. Rainwhisker glanced at him, a satisfied gleam in his eyes, and called out:

"Three down, several dozen more to go."

Rainwhisker had long vanished again somewhere in the battle, after engaging with yet another BloodClan cat. They seem endless, Brambleclaw thought heavily, exhaustion once more deadening his limbs and slowing his reflexes, but they're not. At least now WindClan and RiverClan are here to finish it. They had arrived just in time, saving the other two Clans from being overrun and killed.

Despite the hordes of cats still tumbling around the area of ShadowClan's camp, those of BloodClan had thinned out considerably, as fresher warriors threw themselves into battle with fierce yowls. Brambleclaw paused where he stood, currently unoccupied, sucking in great, expansive breaths. He'd already had an unsatisfactory amount of sleep, and now the fight had dragged on for quite some time. His initial energy and adrenaline had long since worn off, and now he was practically running on fumes.

The tabby wanted to take a break so bad, but he couldn't, not when the fight was still dragging on. He couldn't leave while his Clanmates fought on, while BloodClan forces still filled the spaces around ShadowClan's camp. Against them, the Clans needed every claw and fang they could get. He was almost reluctant to take a quick breather, even though he knew he needed it.

Brambleclaw forced himself back into action with a groan when another cat flung herself at him. His reactions were clumsy and his movements sluggish, unable to muster up the energy to properly strike back. He managed to fend the cat off, blocking most of her attacks, though some made it through his faltering guard. His sides burned with both pain and fatigue, and his cheek stung where she had slipped in a blow. Fortunately for him, the she-cat's limbs seemed as weighed down as his own, though that didn't stop her from trying to tear out his throat.

For several minutes, they struggled back-and-forth, neither unable to gain the advantage. Brambleclaw would slither forward and slash at her, only to beat a hasty retreat when she tore at his ears or aimed for his vulnerable neck. Similarly, the she-cat would try to rush forward and break through his defense with brute force despite their size differences. Brambleclaw was forced to push back with just as much force, which was made all the harder by his flagging strength.

They were at a stalemate. If something didn't change soon, then both of them would would be easy pickings for the other side, regardless of who won this fight.

The she-cat reared onto her hind legs, and Brambleclaw saw his chance. The tabby summoned his remaining strength and suddenly thrust himself forward in a fast lunge, using his hind legs as a powerful spring, his claws reaching out.

They found her throat.

She howled in surprise and agony and leaped away, glaring furiously at him. Blood poured freely from her wounds - many more than Brambleclaw himself had dealt, though his was the most grievous of them - and hatred raged in her eyes. She snarled at him, but Brambleclaw could see she was just as tired as he was - and far more injured. Even as numerous as they were, the cats of BloodClan were tiring from constant battle and long fights. The Clans were far more accustomed to dragged-on battles.

Looking around, she quickly took stock of the situation. Seeing the direction the battle had swayed in favor of — BloodClan was on the verge of defeat — she lashed her tail and squared her shoulders angrily.

"Next time, forest filth," she spat at him. "Next time, we'll win."

His body ached fiercely, his breaths heavy and deep, but Brambleclaw still curled his lip with a growl and shot back, "Don't count on it."

The she-cat sneered but fled anyway. As she vanished into the forest, her shout echoed over her shoulder, "Enjoy it while it lasts! Soon we'll kill every last one of you!"

Brambleclaw bared his teeth defiantly in the direction she left, not willing to expend the energy needed to do anything else. But he knew she had a point. They might have held out as of yet, but there was no doubt in his mind that eventually, they would lose too many cats to keep fighting back. Brambleclaw cast his gaze around the battlefield, heart falling as he spotted numerous bloodied forms. For some, they were drenched in so much red that it was impossible to recognize them from this distance.

Brambleclaw didn't know if they were theirs or BloodClan's, dead or just wounded. He did know, though, that not all of them would've gotten through this unscathed.

And he dreaded hearing about who the Clans had lost.

Brambleclaw weaved through the crowd, stepping between wounded cats as he scanned those around him. His heart ached for each of the dead that he passed, but he didn't linger, pausing only long enough to check them. There was only one cat he was looking for.

She had to still be alive. If she wasn't... the mere thought was unbearable.

And then Brambleclaw saw her, standing beside a WindClan warrior.

"Tawnypelt!"

His sister spun toward him, and in her wide eyes, he could see pure relief.

"Thank StarClan!" she cried and ran to meet him. As she moved, Brambleclaw could see a slight limp, but fortunately, she didn't seem seriously hurt.

His shoulders sagged with relief. He pressed close to her and closed his eyes, drinking in her presence. For a moment, they stood there, comforted by the fact that even after the long, brutal battle, both were still alive. Others weren't so lucky; he had seen several BloodClan cats slumped over dead, and while Brambleclaw had no sympathy for them, it was all too easy to imagine Tawnypelt or Ashfur or Rainwhisker lying there instead.

Finally, Tawnypelt pulled away, looking him over for any injuries.

"Are you okay?" she asked, licking at an injury on his cheek.

"I'll be fine," Brambleclaw replied dismissively. "Nothing serious."

Tawnypelt glanced over him again, double-checking his claim. His fur was certainly bloodied, but he had been truthful. His multitude of wounds stung something fierce, but none of them were life-threatening. His biggest enemy now was sheer exhaustion. Knowing his sister was safe, the tension and adrenaline was slipping away quickly.

"And you?" he asked, leaning his head back to properly take her in.

She grimaced. "I'll be fine," she echoed back at him. "Just tired, really."

Brambleclaw looked pointedly at a paw she was obviously favoring.

"I'm fine," she repeated insistently. "It's not that bad. One of them just got a lucky hit in."

"Are you sure?" he pressed. He knew there was probably no point in asking that — Tawnypelt knew her limits and what constituted a immediate trip to the medicine cats, much better than him at times — but concern forced the words off his tongue anyway.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"You should still see Cind - I mean, Runningnose or Littlecloud about it."

"I will, Brambleclaw. As soon as they're less busy. I'm not dragging any medicine cat away right now to deal with something as small as this."

Brambleclaw wanted to protest, but he had to concede on that. Much as he worried about it, there was no way he was going to drag a medicine cat away from a critically wounded or dying warrior just so they could take a quick look at her paw. Reluctantly, he had to agree with his sister here: it could wait.

"You have to get checked out too, when they have the time," Tawnypelt added, drawing his attention away from her paw.

He glanced down at his ruffled and dirty pelt. "It's fine. I just need to wash myself up a bit, and I'll be good to go."

It was Tawnypelt's turn to give him a look.

He wanted to argue, but he could hear Ashfur's voice echoing in his head — "Infection, Brambleclaw! If you don't get it checked, I swear by StarClan I will drag you to the den myself!" — and Tawnypelt was staring at him in that scary way that only sisters could.

As he opened his mouth to answer, Brambleclaw spotted Rainwhisker rushing up to him.

"Fine, I will," he sighed and then turned the approaching tom. "Rainwhisker, you survived - "

"Brambleclaw," the other warrior interrupted, and his voice was darkly grim, "you need to come."

His heart dropped.

"It's Mousefur."

She wasn't dead — not yet, anyway. But Mousefur was perilously close, and the odds of survival seemed slim. Her eyes were half-closed, her breaths faint and shallow, and a long, nasty gash stretched down her leg and stomach. It was gushing blood, staining the already-bloody ground an even darker red.

The cats of ThunderClan were gathered in a loose circle around their deputy. Several were laying down, blood soaking their fur, and only a few had had wounds treated. A couple looked as though they had simply had a friend quickly slap a mass of cobwebs on and call it good enough. The majority, however, had gone without medical attention.

Normally, Cinderpelt would've taken care of each of them herself. But the crippled she-cat had other concerns at the moment.

Chiefly, the dying deputy.

"Give her space," ordered Graystar as the cats begin to close in a little. "Let her work."

The gray tom did as he had just instructed and made sure not to disrupt his medicine cat. He moved in a wide circle, giving her all the space she needed. His gaze swept around his Clan as he moved. His voice was calm and collected, but when Graystar met Brambleclaw's eyes, the younger cat could see the worry swirling there.

There was silence for several minutes. No one knew what to do next. A few cats from other Clans came to investigate, but not many — they were occupied with caring for their own. Tawnypelt herself had left after receiving news that at least one of her Clanmates had died. Brambleclaw personally suspected that she was looking for Rowanclaw: it was very clear that the two had a thing for each other.

Occasionally, Cinderpelt would snap out an order, and a cat would rush to obey. Other than that, all they could do was wait.

Finally, Cinderpelt stood up with a weary sigh. ThunderClan awaited her verdict with bated breath. Graystar took a step toward her, a question burning in his eyes.

"She'll survive," she announced, and there was a collective sigh.

"Can she be moved?" Graystar asked.

"No. She'll have to stay with ShadowClan for the time being." Cinderpelt shook her head. "In fact, she shouldn't even be moved from this spot."

"We'll have to ask Russetstar." Graystar scanned his ranks and found a cat that seemed only moderately hurt. "Longtail. Go ask, please."

The pale tom dipped his head and limped off.

Cinderpelt gazed down at Mousefur for a moment, then turned and padded a short ways away. She glanced at her other Clanmates and seemed to assess their current states, before finally mewing, "Cloudtail. Keep an eye on Mousefur, will you?" Not waiting for his answer, she added, "Mistlewind, come here. You're first."

The white tom nodded solemnly and moved to stand guard by the prone deputy. Meanwhile, the quiet she-cat followed Cinderpelt as she stepped away from Mousefur.

Longtail came padding back up.

"It's fine," he reported. "Russetstar is currently... unavailable, but Rowanberry okayed it."

Brambleclaw glanced the way the older tom had come, though all he saw was a gaggle of ShadowClan cats huddled together, some WindClan warriors mixed in. Despite the Clans' losses, he couldn't help a smile from tugging at his lips when he saw Tawnypelt standing with Rowanclaw, pelts brushing, practically leaning against each other. Good. I'm glad he got through this. They deserve each other, all the way. Brambleclaw wasn't by any means a romantic sap — as he'd once heard Rookwhisker call one of his Clanmates — but even he could see how his sister and the ginger tom looked at each other.

Graystar nodded to Longtail and glanced at Cinderpelt.

"That's a relief. We'll leave once Cinderpelt decides we all are strong enough to. We don't want to get in ShadowClan's way any more than we have to."

A moon later, and things calmed down relatively.

There was still skirmishes along the border. BloodClan hadn't launched another attack on their camps, though, so that was something.

ThunderClan returned home; a half-moon later, Mousefur followed suit, after Runningnose finally declared her well enough to stumble and stagger back to camp. Longtail and Cinderpelt had supported her all of the way, and now she rested in the medicine den as her wound finished healing.

Brambleclaw worried, though. It was definitely improving but very slowly. Not as fast it should be. When she moved, Mousefur limped heavily; she couldn't go very far before having to stop, lest her leg give out beneath her. It had taken the whole day before she and her escorts had finally arrived back at camp, even though ShadowClan and ThunderClan were very close in proximity.

Still, leaf-bare was coming to a close, and the forest was showing signs of blooming again. Maybe warmer weather would do her injury some good. It would definitely lift up Brambleclaw's spirits. Already, the prey was growing more plentiful as the forest sprang back to life.

"Mousefur is retiring."

Brambleclaw's head shot up. "She's what?" he blurted, almost reactively.

"Really?" Rainwhisker asked in surprise.

Ashfur nodded. "Yeah, really."

"I guess it makes sense," Brambleclaw mused thoughtfully. "Her leg hasn't been getting any better. She can't fight with it, especially not BloodClan."

"True," agreed Rainwhisker, tipping his head in the tabby's direction. "When's it going to be made official?"

Ashfur shrugged. "Sometime soon, I would think. I saw her go into Graystar's den and she hasn't come out yet. Once she does, Graystar'll probably call a Clan meeting. Then it'll be official."

Sure enough, a few minutes of idle chatter later, the small brown she-cat and large gray tom emerged. Rainwhisker noticed first and nudged his friends. The three watched as the two leaders conferred briefly, and then Graystar leapt up to his spot and yowled the summons.

"Here it comes," Ashfur murmured quietly.

"We've suffered a lot of losses," their leader began, sweeping his gaze around. "A lot of friends and family have been killed by BloodClan. But today, we grow stronger. Today, we prove we can keep going despite all this."

Brambleclaw exchanged bemused glances with the other two. Was he talking about Mousefur's retirement? It didn't sound like it...

"Today, we grow stronger. And so, we have some special ceremonies to perform. Shrewkit, Spiderkit, step forward please."

Ohhh.

Looking startled, Ferncloud quickly trapped the two kits and began giving them a washing, much to their embarrassment. Dustpelt padded over and gently nudged her, making her pause and letting Shrewkit and Spiderkit scramble out.

Rainwhisker's whiskers twitched as the Clan shifted to let them through. "It's a lot funnier to watch it happen to someone else," he commented idly, no doubt remembering when it had been his turn.

Brambleclaw huffed out a laugh.

"Shrewkit, step forward. You have reached the age of six moons. Until you have earned your warrior name, you will be known as Shrewpaw." The big tom swept his gaze around, looking at each cat for a moment before flashing onward. It stayed on Brambleclaw for a good few seconds before Graystar continued.

The whole Clan held their breath, and Shrewpaw leaned forward eagerly in anticipation.

Graystar nodded, seemingly to himself.

Who will it be?

"Brambleclaw."

Wait, what?

"Though young, you are a brave and loyal warrior - "

I-is he serious?

" - and exceptionally skilled, and so I name you Shrewpaw's mentor."

Oh StarClan, he is!

"I trust you will pass on everything you know onto him."

I... I can't believe this!

Ashfur nudged him.

"Well?" he said, grinning.

Rainwhisker gave him a smile and a nod. Dazed, Brambleclaw stepped forward, watching almost in wonder as the Clan moved to allow him through. Shrewpaw had turned toward him, and his eyes shone with excitement.

This is really happening! I'm really Shrewpaw's mentor!

Shrewpaw, unable to contain himself, darted forward and met Brambleclaw as he drew close. The big tabby tom had to lower his head a great deal to touch noses with the newly-named apprentice. Nonetheless, even though he towered over Shrewpaw at the moment, the young cat's build hinted at a large frame when he was full-grown.

"Train him well," Graystar said from above them both.

Brambleclaw nodded, looking up at him. "I will, Graystar."

The leader's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as his attention shifted away. "Spiderkit, step forward..."

Brambleclaw tried to listen to Graystar as he continued the ceremony, but he barely could with Shrewpaw standing beside him. Before he knew it, Brackenfur had joined him as Spiderpaw's new mentor. The other tom gave him a warm look and a comradely nod.

The tabby nodded back.

"Now onto another order of business." Graystar's voice lost the happy edge, growing more solemn. The Clan sensed the shift and looked expectantly at him.

"What now?" Shrewpaw mumbled under his breath, disappointment tinging his words. Brambleclaw quickly whisked his tail over his back to quiet him; this was probably for Mousefur's retirement, and he wanted to show respect for the older she-cat.

Graystar glanced down at Mousefur, then back up. "Mousefur has announced her retirement."

A respectful silence passed over the Clan, but looking out over them, Brambleclaw saw no indications of surprise or shock. As Mousefur limped forward, they bent their heads to her.

"I'm getting older," she said. "I'm proud to have served as ThunderClan!s deputy, but it's time to let someone else step up. Don't let me down."

With that, she turned and retreated to the edge of the crowd.

Shrewpaw leaned over to murmur something to Spiderpaw. Brambleclaw couldn't hear, but he was about to stop him when Brackenfur spoke up beside him.

"Patience," he murmured to the two young cats. "It won't be too much longer. Just show Mousefur the respect she deserves."

Spiderpaw nodded, and Shrewpaw ducked his head.

"We thank you for your service, Mousefur," Graystar said to a rumble of agreement, dragging Brambleclaw's attention back to him. "You were a reliable and loyal deputy. ThunderClan won't forget that."

Mousefur nodded.

"Now, I must choose a new deputy before moon-high," Graystar went on. "I have already made my choice." A pause, then: "I say these words before StarClan, so that the spirits of our warrior ancestors may hear and approve of my choice."

Graystar's gaze found someone in the Clan.

"The new deputy of ThunderClan is Longtail."

A approving grin spread across Brambleclaw's face as pleased murmurs rumbled throughout the Clan. He'd heard tales of how Longtail had first greeted Firestar — the scarred ear was testament to that — but the striped warrior had changed a lot since then, if those stories were anything to go by.

Longtail was brave and loyal, not letting his opinions get in the way of his dedication to ThunderClan, always making sure his Clan came first. He was an excellent warrior, keen to the mood and flow of the Clan. After the fight with Firestar, he had learned to not be presumptuous. More than a few cats looked to him for guidance. In addition, he was respected by all four of the Clans.

In short, the perfect deputy choice.

Also one that wasn't expecting to be chosen, if the wide eyes and dropped jaw was any indication.

"I... y-you really... me?" he stuttered.

Graystar nodded — along with most of the Clan.

Longtail somehow managed to square his shoulders and straighten himself out, moving forward with dignity even as shock rolled off him in waves. He reached the front, turned around, and took a deep breath.

"I... thank you for this honor. I promise I'll be the best deputy I can. I won't let the Clan down."

Longtail met everyone's gazes. Brambleclaw gave him a firm nod, throwing all his support behind him, and Longtail's eyes shone gratefully back at him.

"Clan dismissed."

Graystar leaped down to join them, but Brambleclaw was distracted when the shape at his side erupted into action.

"Finally!" Shrewpaw crowed. "I thought it would never end! I want to see everything!" He bounced on his paws, looking longingly at the entrance.

Spiderpaw loosed a loud breath, then looked up at the two mentors eagerly. "Can we go explore the territory now?"

Before either of them could respond, Ferncloud appeared, followed closely by Dustpelt.

"We'll let your parents have you first," Brackenfur allowed, taking a step back and letting Ferncloud to fill his spot. Brambleclaw joined him, whiskers twitching as he watched the family celebrate.

"Well done in becoming a mentor." Brackenfur smiled. "I think Graystar made a good choice."

Pride swelled in Brambleclaw's chest. "Thanks. I think you were a good choice for Spiderpaw too."

A few minutes later, Shrewpaw bounded up to Brambleclaw.

"I'm ready now!" he announced.

"Let's go then," he replied, composing his expression.

Spiderpaw nudged his brother. "Race you outside!"

"You are on!"

Shrewpaw and Spiderpaw darted away, ducking around other cats as they ran.

"We'll sure have our paws full," commented Brackenfur.

Sharing amused glances, Brackenfur and Brambleclaw followed their new apprentices out of camp.