Disclaimer: I do not own Warriors or anything that has to do with it.

Chapter Five: Training Day

Vixenpaw yawned and stretched in her nest, enjoying the pleasant warmth of the green-leaf day. The shadows provided by the apprentice den's roof kept her from overheating and kept the sun out of her eyes as she relaxed. Thankfully, she had been spared from the dawn patrol and Hazelclaw hadn't come to get her for training yet. Perhaps I'll get the day off, she thought drowsily. The thought made a soft purr rise in her throat. It's true that I've been working hard this past quarter moon. I hope my mentor gives me a break.

Hazelclaw was probably one of the toughest mentors in the Clan, but Vixenpaw didn't mind. She liked the way she was always pushed to do better. Vixenpaw was a fairly quick learner, so she enjoyed the various challenges that Hazelclaw was constantly putting in front of her. They helped her find her strengths and excel in certain parts of her training, but also helped her to learn her weaknesses and limits. While it sometimes embarrassed her to know that there were certain things she would never be perfect at, Hazelclaw was always encouraging her. The deputy said that it was better to know her shortcomings so she could find a way around them. Vixenpaw hoped she was right. Her shortcomings were the thing she resented the most about herself.

The ginger apprentice heard a shuffling noise next to her and a small growl, which brought her attention back to her surroundings. "Watch where you're kicking that moss," Icepaw hissed at her brother.

Stormpaw simply replied with a exaggerated moan. Vixenpaw opened one eye, amused to see the dappled gray tom put his paws over his ears to block out his sister's words. The white she-cat gave an outraged huff and pounced on her brother. He squealed in protest and kicked her away.

"Leave me alone! I'm tired from the dawn patrol!"

"I was on it, too! But I can't sleep with you showering moss all over me!"

"I was sleeping! I didn't do it on purpose!"

"Brothers," said Icepaw, rolling her blue eyes at Vixenpaw.

The older apprentice gave a mrrow of laughter. She felt a wave of fondness for her denmates rush over her. She hadn't realized how much she missed them when she and her littermates had moved out of the nursery, but now that they were together again, it was good to have them back.

"I'd better get going, anyway," mewed Icepaw, getting to her paws and stretching. "Tigerfang will have something to say if he has to get me up at sun-high every day."

"He is strict," Vixenpaw mewed sympathetically. She knew just how demanding and impatient her father could be. Even stricter than Hazelclaw, she thought. Hazelclaw pushes me in my training, but she's willing to spend as much time on one lesson as she has to. Tigerfang would insist that I learn at the same pace he teaches. Which, to be clear, was extremely fast. She remembered the days of her kithood when Tigerfang tried to teach her and her littermates how to do the hunting crouch. He had demonstrated it and become quickly frustrated when Flamepaw had stubbed his paw, Branchpaw's tail kept lashing, and Vixenpaw couldn't stop leaning to one side. Gingerpelt had had to remind him that they were still very young and that he couldn't expect them to do it perfectly in one day. Vixenpaw hoped that Icepaw was a quick learner, so she wouldn't get on Tigerfang's easily provoked nerves.

The younger apprentice padded out of the den, leaving her harassed brother behind to get more sleep. Vixenpaw decided that she should get going too and sat up to give her dark ginger pelt a thorough wash. When she was sure that her fur was smooth and her whiskers were straight, she followed Icepaw out into the camp.

The golden sun dazzled her dark-accustomed eyes and she narrowed them while she waited for them to adjust. When she could see again, she took in the sight of the busy camp. Tigerfang was already barking orders at Icepaw, who was dutifully carrying them out. Rosethorn was conversing with Featherwing as they shared tongues. Sandfoot was gathering Snowfall, Graywhisker, Lionvoice, and Flamepaw for a hunting patrol. Vixenpaw waved her tail at her brother as he passed and he flicked his ears in response.

Vixenpaw watched him go, frowning in thought. Flamepaw and Branchpaw both puzzled her at times, with their weird quirks and their strange relationship. Flamepaw was almost skittish around their older brother and seemed reluctant to talk to him, yet she was sure that he admired him. Branchpaw was patient and caring toward Flamepaw, yet he sometimes seemed uncomfortable around him too.

She remembered the events of the night after Branchpaw had his accident, when she had practically had to force Flamepaw to visit their brother. All he did was mumble shyly and make excuses. He wouldn't take action unless he was pushed to do so. It made her so angry sometimes, even though she knew it was part of his personality. Stop being so timid! she felt like shouting every time he looked at his paws. Have some confidence, for goodness' sake! It isn't that hard! She loved her littermates dearly, but they could get under her fur like no one else could.

She wished that her brothers could just get along like they did when the three of them were kits. They had shared everything with one another: their dreams and thoughts, their worries and problems, the bad times and the good. But suddenly, when they became apprentices, Flamepaw withdrew into his private thoughts, Branchpaw became the star, and Vixenpaw was left in the gap between them, trying to bring them back together.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. The distance between her brothers wasn't a short term problem that she could solve right away. It's better that I focus on my training right now, she thought. That's something I can do.

Hazelclaw was waiting patiently by the fresh-kill pile, her tail curled neatly around her paws. Vixenpaw considered going to visit Branchpaw, who was still confined to the medicine den, but decided against it. Hazelclaw was understanding and fair, but she wouldn't take kindly to her apprentice running off when she was so clearly expecting her for training. Vixenpaw padded up to her mentor and dipped her head in greeting. "Good morning," she mewed, keeping her eyes lowered respectfully.

"Good morning, Vixenpaw," Hazelclaw said, in a meow with a slight purr to it. "Take what you like from the fresh-kill pile. We're going out for training today, so you'll need to keep your energy up."

Vixenpaw regarded the pile dubiously. "Are you sure? It's so... small." Why is there hardly anything on the fresh-kill pile in green-leaf? she thought. There was only a squirrel and two sparrows left. It could hardly be called a pile, in her opinion.

"Yes," Hazelclaw said firmly. "You've caught prey enough to feed the whole Clan these past few days. And not everyone hunts every day. Besides, I don't want you getting all dizzy on me during our training session. You'll need your wits about you today."

"Okay," mewed Vixenpaw, a little taken aback. She chose one of the sparrows, pulling it toward her with one paw. I'll make up for it later, she told herself as she ate. She finished it in a few bites, then licked her whiskers clean. "Ready," she meowed.

Hazelclaw's blue eyes glittered with amusement. "All right," she said. "But don't blame me if you get indigestion." She turned and padded toward the thorn barrier, flicking her tail at Vixenpaw in a gesture to follow. The ginger apprentice padded after her mentor, wondering what exactly the deputy had in store for their lesson.

The forest was alive with the chirping of birds and the rustling noise of the squirrels climbing through the leaves. Sunlight winked through the gaps in the foliage, making dappled gold and green patterns appear on the forest floor. The light coming through the leaves cast a greenish tinge to everything in the woods, including the white parts of Hazelclaw's pelt.

Vixenpaw looked around her happily. She loved walking through the forest at sun-high. As she took in the sights around her, she noticed that the tips of some of the leaves were turning orange and yellow. Leaf-fall must be on its way, she thought.

Fully prepared to follow the dusty path to the training hollow, Vixenpaw was surprised when her mentor passed right by it, continuing on into the trees. She hesitated, wondering if Hazelclaw wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. "Um," she began.

"We aren't going to the training hollow," Hazelclaw informed her, barely pausing as she glanced over her brown-furred shoulder. "I have something different in mind."

"O-okay," said Vixenpaw, surprised. She hastened her pawsteps to keep up with her mentor's brisk stride. "Where are we going, then?"

"You'll see," said Hazelclaw, with a maddening tone of amusement in her voice. Vixenpaw frowned, annoyed by the deputy's secrets. She hated not knowing things, especially if someone was deliberately keeping them from her. The unknown made her fur itch with the need to figure it out. Perhaps she's giving me a hunting assessment, Vixenpaw thought. I'd certainly need to keep my strength up for that.

But Hazelclaw didn't turn her pawsteps toward the deeper parts of the forest, where they would be more likely to find prey. Instead, she veered off toward the RiverClan border, where the trees thinned out and gave way to a swiftly-running stream. Vixenpaw felt the urge to pad up to the riverbank and lap up the cool water, but Hazelclaw kept moving and she didn't want her mentor to leave her behind.

Eventually, they came to Sunningrocks, which stood out vast and gray against the green and yellow stalks of dried grass on the ThunderClan side and the crystal clear waters of the river on the other. Hazelclaw led the way onto the smooth rock surface. She turned and looked down at her apprentice, who still stood on the ground.

"We are doing battle training today," Hazelclaw explained, "but not in the usual place. Today I'm going to teach you to use the terrain to your advantage. You're used to the flat sand of the training hollow, but you've never fought on rock, or in the thickets and undergrowth of the woods, or in the ever-changing heights of the treetops. Today we'll do rock." She nodded at the broad stones around her. "Come join me and attack me any way you can. We'll discuss special techniques later."

Vixenpaw was fascinated. She'd never thought of how the battlefield could affect what moves she would use. She scrambled eagerly onto the rocks, ready to try. But before she could even launch a single attack, pain shot through her paw pads. "Ouch!" she yelped, jumping back. "The rocks are hot!"

Hazelclaw gave a mrrow of laughter. "That's part of the terrain," she mewed. "It never really gets that hot in the training hollow, since it's usually shadowed by the rock walls. But here, in the open sun, it's a different story."

Clearly, thought Vixenpaw, a little miffed. "Then how are you standing there without burning your paws?" she complained.

The brown-and-white she-cat lifted one paw to show her apprentice. The pads were smooth, yet rough looking. "Practice," she said. "I've been scorched so many times that my paws have become calloused to protect themselves." She returned her paw to the ground. "Now get up here and attack me. Let's see what you've got."

Bracing herself, Vixenpaw climbed onto the Sunningrocks again, doing her best to ignore the searing heat of the stone on her pads. She stepped forward gingerly, trying to put as little weight on her paws as possible. At least it'll help me stay light on my paws, she thought ruefully.

Hazelclaw watched her, the amusement still gleaming in her eyes. "Ready?" she asked.

"Yes," Vixenpaw mewed. I'd better be! she told herself.

"Come at me, then!" her mentor challenged.

Vixenpaw tensed her muscles, then sprang. Hazelclaw leapt nimbly out of the way, letting her apprentice shoot right past her. Vixenpaw tumbled to a halt, moving quickly to keep as much as her body off the hot rocks as possible. She rolled to her feet, turning to face her mentor. Ow, ow, ow! she yelped inwardly as her paws seared again. But she refused to show her pain. Bracing herself, she attacked again.

Hazelclaw raised one paw and easily batted her apprentice aside. Vixenpaw scowled, pausing to catch her breath. Mouse-brain, she scolded herself. You're attacking like a kit just out of the nursery. Stop and think for a moment, like you're always telling Branchpaw to do. You know the techniques, just use them.

Hazelclaw was watching her with a mildly interested expression on her face. Are you going to fight like a kit, or fight like a warrior? her eyes seemed to ask.

Like a warrior, thought Vixenpaw, then lunged again. Hazelclaw extended a paw to swipe at her again, but this time the apprentice swerved and ducked underneath her mentor. She rolled over and kicked upward. Hazelclaw yowled in pain and rage as she was sent flying away. Vixenpaw felt a surge of triumph.

The apprentice heard pawsteps to her left and whipped around to face her mentor, who was charging toward her. Hazelclaw lashed out with a paw, forcing her apprentice to retreat. Vixenpaw met her mentor blow for blow, but she couldn't stop herself from taking a few steps back as Hazelclaw pummeled her relentlessly. The deputy steadily drove her apprentice backward until the rock suddenly dropped away from beneath her paws. Vixenpaw let out a squeak as she fell off the Sunningrocks and hit the ground hard.

For a moment, darkness clouded her vision. She blinked it away and forced herself to get to her paws, even though the fall had knocked the wind out of her. She was disoriented from the impact, but luckily, she was unharmed. She took a moment to recover from the fall, then went to join her mentor.

"That was better," said Hazelclaw, watching as her apprentice scrambled back onto the rocks. "But you've got to be aware of your surroundings at all times. You would have been fine if you'd noticed that the edge of the rocks was right behind you. Then you could have changed the direction of the fight by leaping past me."

Vixenpaw nodded, trying to catch her breath. "Right," she mewed.

She waited until her heart rate slowed to its normal pace, then launched another attack. Hazelclaw dropped down so Vixenpaw couldn't run under her again. Instead, the apprentice leapt onto her mentor's back and dug her claws into her spine. Hazelclaw rolled over with a hiss, trying to crush Vixenpaw beneath her, but the dark ginger she-cat was too quick and jumped off just in time. Then she pounced on Hazelclaw's exposed belly. Her mentor retaliated by kicking her away with strong hind paws.

"You're learning," puffed Hazelclaw, rolling to her feet. Vixenpaw felt a glow of pleasure at the deputy's words.

This time, Hazelclaw attacked, shouldering Vixenpaw roughly to the ground. The apprentice heard claws scrape rock close to her ear as she rolled out of the way of her mentor's next pounce. She scrambled to her paws and narrowly avoided the swipe Hazelclaw aimed toward her cheek. Hazelclaw began to rain blows on her apprentice again, but Vixenpaw edged around her, determined not to be forced backward.

Hazelclaw turned and began to advance again. Vixenpaw backed away, this time getting closer to the RiverClan side of the rocks. She could hear the sound of the river rushing behind her and an idea flitted through her mind. Come at me, she thought, pretending that Hazelclaw's blows were driving her back. She moved steadily toward the edge of the rocks. Her mentor seemed to take the bait.

Please let this work! Vixenpaw thought. Once she was close to the edge, she dropped down as though she was going to dart underneath the deputy's belly. Hazelclaw pounced.

Quick as a rabbit, Vixenpaw flipped onto her back. She registered the surprise that flickered through Hazelclaw's eyes and felt a flash of satisfaction. As her mentor plummeted down toward her, she kicked her pack paws into the deputy's stomach and used the momentum to hurl her over her head and into the river.

Vixenpaw heard a yowl and a splash as her mentor hit the water. She leapt to her paws excitedly and whirled around in time to see Hazelclaw surface, paws churning as she swam as best as she could to the riverbank. Vixenpaw couldn't stop the amused purr that rose in her throat and rumbled through her whole body.

"Well done!" exclaimed Hazelclaw as she pulled herself up onto the bank. She climbed back onto the rocks and shook herself, scattering droplets of water everywhere. She looked almost comical, her brown and white fur plastered to her sides and her whiskers glinting with moisture like a spider's web covered in dewdrops. "I must say I did not enjoy being thrown in the river, but you used the terrain to your advantage very well," she purred.

"Thanks!" Vixenpaw meowed, pride warming her pelt.

Suddenly Hazelclaw's ears swiveled toward the RiverClan border. She opened her jaws to scent the air warily, then went rigid.

"What's wrong?" Vixenpaw whispered.

"RiverClan," was her mentor's answer.

A moment later, three cats emerged from the small group of trees on the other side of the river. Vixenpaw and Hazelclaw both came to the edge of the rocks and stood side by side as the RiverClan cats took notice of them.

"Hey, look who it is!" sneered the first cat, a blue-gray she-cat. Her eyes glittered with malice as they came to rest on Hazelclaw. "ThunderClan's pathetic excuse for a deputy."

Vixenpaw growled, feeling a flash of rage. How dare she insult Hazelclaw!

The second cat, a small tortoiseshell who must have been an apprentice, stalked forward to stand beside the blue-gray she-cat. "Look at her pelt," she scoffed. "She must have fallen in the water. Either that, or she went for a swim. Everyone knows she's not a true ThunderClan cat anyway."

The blue-gray she-cat gave a purr of mocking laugher and the tortoiseshell apprentice joined in. Vixenpaw growled louder, her claws slipping out of their sheathes. She opened her jaws to give a stinging reply, but Hazelclaw whisked her tail across her apprentice's mouth before she could speak.

At the same time, the third cat in the patrol, a tortoiseshell tom, stalked toward his Clanmates. "Quiet!" he snapped. "Have you no sense? We aren't here to antagonize our neighbors."

"But they're ThunderClan," complained the apprentice. "They're our enemies."

"Not in times of peace, they aren't!" the tom hissed. "We're rivals, yes, but you don't have to stir up trouble." He turned to the ThunderClan cats and dipped his head politely. "I apologize for my Clanmates' rudeness," he mewed diplomatically. The blue-gray cat looked offended and the apprentice's eyes narrowed in anger, but the tom didn't seem to notice their reactions.

"Greetings, Marshpelt," Hazelclaw mewed, nodding in return. Vixenpaw's eyes widened in surprise. That's the RiverClan deputy! she realized. She'd heard of him, but she'd never seen him before. "It's all right, I don't blame you for your warriors' attitudes."

The tortoiseshell apprentice huffed in outrage, but went quiet when Marshpelt turned to glare at her with fierce amber eyes. "How's the prey running in ThunderClan?" he asked more calmly, turning back to Hazelclaw.

"Fine," she mewed, not a hint of anger in her voice. "And in RiverClan?"

"Not bad," Marshpelt replied.

Vixenpaw watched incredulously as her mentor spoke with the RiverClan deputy. She's being so polite, she thought angrily. After what they said to her, how can she speak to them so calmly, almost as if they're friends? She should be shredding them, ripping their fur off, not talking to them! And Marshpelt seems to be angrier about the whole thing than she does!

Hazelclaw's tail curled more firmly around Vixenpaw's mouth, as though she could sense her apprentice's fury building. "We'd best be on our way," she meowed.

"Right," said Marshpelt, nodding. "We'd better get going, too." He signaled to his patrol with a sweep of his tail and they disappeared into the trees once more, the apprentice shooting one last venomous look at the ThunderClan cats as she went.

Hazelclaw watched them go for a moment, then removed her tail from across Vixenpaw's mouth. As soon as she could speak, Vixenpaw let out a flurry of demanding questions.

"How can you be so nice to them when they just insulted you? Why didn't we fight them? There were only three of them; we could have taken them on easily! Why did we just let them walk away?"

"I don't want to stir up trouble," Hazelclaw said with a sigh. "If I'd let you speak your mind to them, you would have made that difficult for me. Vixenpaw, you need to get a hold of your temper."

Vixenpaw's jaw dropped. "I do? Did you see how that RiverClan apprentice behaved?"

She knew she was asking to clean the elders' den for a moon, but she was too infuriated to care. To her surprise, Hazelclaw looked more weary than angry.

"Their apprentice behaved poorly, it's true, but you don't have to be just as bad as her. You are supposed to be better than your rivals. Haven't I tried to teach you that?"

Vixenpaw looked down, suddenly unable to meet her mentor's gaze.

"You did well today in training," Hazelclaw said. "But you failed another test. I expected better of you. Your loyalty is admirable, but you need to let me chose when to fight my own battles. And you can't fight my battles for me."

"I'm sorry," Vixenpaw mumbled, ashamed of herself.

Hazelclaw sighed again. "Well, you can't change the past now," she mewed ruefully. "You can only learn from your mistakes."

Vixenpaw glanced at her mentor. For the first time since their encounter with the RiverClan patrol, she wondered if Hazelclaw was more upset than she was letting on. The deputy hadn't seemed bothered at all by their insults at first, but now there was something in her tone that sounded like sadness or regret. "Are you all right?" Vixenpaw asked tentatively.

"I'm fine," Hazelclaw meowed firmly. "Don't worry about me." She set off toward camp, sliding off the rocks and striding quickly across the dried grass. Vixenpaw loped a few paces to catch up, then matched her mentor's pace and walked at her side.

"How do you stay so calm?" she wondered aloud. "Those RiverClan cats were being nasty to you, but you acted like you didn't care at all."

"Practice," Hazelclaw said wearily. "When you hear the same insults over and over, they cease to mean anything to you. They just become a fact of life that you have to deal with."

Vixenpaw was silent for a moment, thinking that over. The same insults? she wondered. She thought back to the RiverClan cats' exact words. "Hey, look who it is! the blue-gray warrior had said. "ThunderClan's pathetic excuse for a deputy." And then the apprentice: "Everyone knows she's not a true ThunderClan cat anyway."

If they're the same insults, they must not be some random harsh things to say, Vixenpaw realized. They must be trying to rub salt into an old wound. As if they have a reason to think Hazelclaw isn't a real ThunderClan warrior.

Vixenpaw frowned as the thought occurred to her. But that insult can't have any real basis. Hazelclaw's a forest-born cat; she was never a kittypet or a rogue. And she's not half-Clan either. The whole Clan knows who her parents were; they were definitely ThunderClan warriors. So what could that mouse-brained apprentice have meant when she said Hazelclaw isn't a true ThunderClan cat?

They must be making it up, Vixenpaw decided. When Hazelclaw said 'the same old insults', she must have meant that the RiverClan cats can't think of anything new to say. Not that they have any reason for saying the things they do.

"What's wrong?" asked Hazelclaw, noticing that she was lost in thought.

"Nothing," the apprentice replied.

"Good," her mentor said. "We'll go hunting later, once the sun goes down a little and you've gotten some rest. I'm sorry I didn't get to show you any techniques, but I thought it was best to get away from the border for now. And I don't think you really needed them anyway."

"Okay," Vixenpaw meowed, feeling considerably more cheerful. She pushed all thoughts of the RiverClan patrol out of her mind. There's no need to dwell on it, she thought. RiverClan cats are fox-hearted and that's that.

The sun was still shining high in the sky when Marshpelt, the deputy of RiverClan, returned to camp with his patrol. Bluebird, the blue-gray warrior, padded off to get some fresh-kill with her apprentice, while the deputy went to sit beside one of the streams that bordered their camp. After it passed Sunningrocks, the river split into two separate branches, forming a small island in between them before they joined together again on the other side. It was on that island that RiverClan made its home, weaving dens out of reeds and large, waxy leaves that kept the water out when it rained.

Marshpelt liked sitting by the river. The soft bubbling noise of the running water soothed his troubled mind and helped him relax after long days of work in the green-leaf sun. He was especially tired after days like these, when his cats made his job of keeping peace and order in RiverClan difficult. He still couldn't believe how fish-brained Bluebird had been, insulting ThunderClan's deputy and picking a fight when she should have known better than to antagonize their neighbors. Even worse, she hadn't kept her apprentice Turtlepaw in line. Marshpelt's wayward niece had never been easy to control, but it was Bluebird's duty as her mentor to train her to obey orders. He sighed heavily. Today had been a failure in every way. An complete and utter failure.

"Greetings, Marshpelt," said a voice behind him. He turned to see Watergrove, RiverClan's dark tabby medicine cat, making his way toward him. The deputy waited patiently as the elderly cat settled beside him with a sigh. "How's the prey running?" Watergrove asked. His green eyes gleamed with an amusement that wasn't dulled by age. "You look like someone stole your only piece of prey. Did you have a rough day?"

"You could say that," Marshpelt mewed bitterly. "Bluebird and Turtlepaw almost started a fight with a ThunderClan patrol. Times are bad enough as it is, with ShadowClan getting stronger every day and WindClan stirring up trouble on our other border. What we really don't need is all three rival Clans against us."

The medicine cat blinked sympathetically. "I know your job can be hard at times," he said, "but remember, you do your Clan a huge favor by being their deputy. They need someone to organize their patrols. Pikestar needs someone to look after the Clan when he's away. And of course, I need you to help me talk sense into our leader when he's being foolish." A loud purr rumbled in the old tabby's throat.

Marshpelt snorted with amusement. "Yes, but it's a lot for me to do," he replied. "It gets overwhelming sometimes."

"I know, but not everyone's cut out for work like that," Watergrove said. "Remember, you're special, Marshpelt. Pikestar knew what he was doing when he appointed you deputy."

"Thanks, Watergrove," the tortoiseshell tom mewed. If there was one thing the medicine cat could be relied on for, it was giving good advice and encouraging speeches. "So," he added, changing the subject in an effort to get his mind off the disasters of the day. "How are the kits?" He knew the medicine cat had gone to visit the nursery earlier that morning.

"They're doing well," Watergrove replied, the spark of amusement returning his eyes. "Skykit was playing 'medicine cat' with Jaggedkit. She made him eat long stalks of grass and pretended they were herbs."

"That's great," said Marshpelt. "Do you think she really wants to be a medicine cat?" Watergrove didn't have an apprentice yet, but he was looking for a young cat to train who would one day take his place.

"Maybe," said the tabby tom with a shrug. "I certainly hope so. I'm not going to be around forever and RiverClan needs a medicine cat."

Marshpelt touched his nose to Watergrove's shoulder. "Hopefully you still have many moons ahead of you," he meowed.

Watergrove let out a rusty purr of laughter. "I should think so. I'm old, but I'm hardly on my last legs. Besides," he added, "I plan on being around as long as my Clan needs me."

Marshpelt couldn't help but admire Watergrove's dedication to RiverClan. He certainly makes a good medicine cat, he thought. No one else has the patience and care to look after all the cats of this Clan. Watergrove doesn't just do his job, he does it well and loves every moment of it.

The deputy opened his mouth to reply, but before he could say anything, heavy pawsteps and a sharp cry from behind him made his ears swivel in that direction. He whirled around in time to see three of RiverClan's warriors stagger into camp. Ottertail, a dark brown she-cat, lead the way, while the gray tom Stonestream supported the last member of the patrol, Fernfeather, with his shoulder. All three were panting with exhaustion and their tattered pelts showed evidence that they had been in a fight.

"What happened?" Marshpelt demanded, running toward them. He stopped beside Ottertail, whose green eyes blazed with fury.

"WindClan happened," she growled. "We were patrolling the border like you told us to when six or seven of their warriors attacked us! Their patrol was led by their deputy, Swiftrunner himself. We would have won if we'd been evenly matched, but we were totally outnumbered and none of us could escape to go get help. We eventually managed to get away, but only after Fernfeather was badly wounded." She nodded in the direction of the young tabby warrior, whose eyes were glazed over with pain. Marshpelt could see blood flowing freely from a deep wound in her shoulder and one of her ears was badly shredded.

"Send them to me," said Watergrove, who had heard enough of the conversation to understand what was going on. He limped off in the direction of his den, which was on the far side of the camp.

"Go," Marshpelt told Stonestream and Fernfeather. The gray tom nodded, while the brown tabby she-cat looked too tired to reply. The deputy felt a twinge of worry in his stomach as they trudged after Watergrove, Fernfeather barely managing to stay upright.

He shook his head to clear it, turning back to Ottertail as he did so. "Are you all right?" he asked her. There was a nasty cut above her left eye that was trickling blood and patches of her fur had been torn out. "You'd better go see Watergrove, too."

"I'm fine," she reassured him, her tone still sharp with annoyance. "But RiverClan's reputation isn't. We're far stronger than WindClan and ThunderClan, but we took a real beating today. That's going to make us look weak. And we can't afford to look like our strength is wavering, not when ShadowClan is still more powerful than we are."

Marshpelt winced as he heard his thoughts spoken out loud. He'd been afraid for some time of what ShadowClan might do if RiverClan let its guard down. They didn't share a border with ShadowClan, but that didn't mean their enemies couldn't cross through Fourtrees to attack them. And if they looked weak, ShadowClan might take the opportunity to try to bring them down. Especially when RiverClan was the second strongest Clan in the forest and could be a threat to them in times of prosperity.

"What are we going to do about it?" Ottertail prompted.

"I'm not sure," Marshpelt admitted reluctantly. "I'll definitely go speak with Pikestar. There's a lot going on that he needs to hear about."

"Yes, there is," Ottertail agreed. "We need to solve this problem as quickly as we can."

"I know," the deputy of RiverClan said. "But what you can do to help the Clan most right now is get those wounds treated. I can tell that no matter what we do, we're going to fight a great number of battles in the near future. And we'll need all the warriors we can get."

"Right," the senior warrior mewed, understanding. She dipped her head to Marshpelt and limped obediently toward the medicine den.

The tortoiseshell tom watched her go. Once again, he felt the weight of his responsibility resting heavily on his shoulders. Then he raised his head to look toward Pikestar's den. An idea was forming in his mind, one that was making his heart sink with uneasiness. There's a chance it might work, he thought. But it's a slim one. And if it doesn't work... RiverClan is going to be in a lot of trouble.

A/N: That's it for this chapter. Let me know what you thought of Vixenpaw's POV. I actually had a bit of difficultly writing this chapter (that's why I took so long to post it), so I'd like to know all your thoughts on it. And now that you've seen all three of the main characters' POVs, which one is your favorite? Who's your favorite character in general? If you haven't taken the poll on my profile, I'd appreciate if you could check that out. :)

And what do you think Turtlepaw (the RiverClan apprentice) meant when she insulted Hazelclaw? Do you think that it was some random insult, or do you think that there's something behind it? And what do you think Marshpelt's idea was at the end of the chapter? I'm curious to know what you think.

Thanks for reading and please review! ;)

-Blaze