Rising Moon

Jedi Goat

Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors.

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Chapter 18

Oakheart had just returned from hunting with Wolfpaw and her mentor, Dustpelt, when a small white she-cat burst through the thorn tunnel.

"Help!" she gasped, taking deep gulps of air. "WindClan – camp – attacked!"

WindClan? Oakheart exchanged a glance with Wolfpaw. That's where Moonpaw might be!

He dropped his catches on the fresh-kill pile and raced off to get Firestar. He relayed the WindClan cat's message on the way down from his den. Firestar's eyes flashed.

"Cats of ThunderClan!" he yowled, diving into the crowd of already-appearing cats. The clan backed off slightly, giving him and Oakheart room to reach the she-cat.

"You say the wolves are attacking?" he asked her sharply.

The white she-cat nodded, crouched on the ground with her eyes wide in fear. "Please help us!"

Firestar nodded, troubled; he was good friends with many WindClan cats. "I'll need a patrol. Dustpelt, Wolfpaw, Oakheart, Ferncloud, Honeypaw, Brackenfur –"

"Bring a medicine cat," the she-cat interrupted, gasping.

Firestar frowned at her slightly but nevertheless continued. "Leafpool, bring supplies. Hazelgaze, Mousetail, you two come as well."

The siblings nodded fiercely, fire in their eyes. They wanted to avenge Berryfoot's death.

"Lead on," ordered Firestar, turning to the she-cat.

Staggering to her paws, she led them out of camp.

The patrol charged across WindClan territory. Oakheart's heart pounded loudly in his ears. StarClan, please let Moonpaw be all right! His every muscle was tense, dependant on her survival.

Firestar suddenly stopped, raising his tail to halt the battle-ready cats. Oakheart lifted his head and scented the breeze; a strong fear-scent drifted from the hollow below. Mingled in with it was the unmistakable stink of the wolves.

Firestar's gaze swept his clan, pride in his eyes. He knew they would put up a good fight, each cat ready to battle with tooth and claw for the territory they lived in. Finally he nodded and with another signal the cats poured down the ravine, battle cries echoing around them.

Oakheart was only a step behind his leader as they burst through the tunnel into WindClan camp. Wolfpaw and the white she-cat were at his heels.

A fierce yowl rocked the clearing filled with warring cats and six hungry wolves. For a moment the scene seemed to freeze; then ThunderClan's tide of cats swept into the fray, taking up the fight with fresh energy. Oakheart's eyes raked the fight, searching for one cat in particular.

His heart leaped into his throat as he saw a wolf with a small black she-cat clutched in its mouth. Snarling, he flung himself toward it.

The wolf whirled around, Moonpaw still clamped in its jaws. A low growl escaped the creature and its teeth sunk further into her back. Moonpaw's eyes widened at the sight of him.

"Let her go!" Oakheart slammed into the wolf's shoulder, forcing it to drop Moonpaw. Oakheart dodged away from its snapping jaws, slicing at its neck. The wolf lunged.

Oakheart dived under the wolf's reaching maw, crawling until its belly. With one quick slash upward he fatally wounded the horrible creature.

Shrieking in pain, the wolf tore around, eyes flashing at him. It leaped again, claws scraping the ground a mouse-length from Oakheart's shoulder. He jerked away, sinking his claws into the side of the wolf's face.

A long howl pierced the air. Then the wolf staggered, fell to the ground, and lay still.

"Well done," a voice rasped. Oakheart turned to see a dark gray tom braced against the log, looking up at him.

"Erm, thanks," he mumbled in embarrassment, padding over to Moonpaw. "Moonpaw?"

The black she-cat slowly raised her head, wincing. Her emerald eyes blinked wearily, then shone up at him. "Thanks. You saved my life."

Oakheart purred, enjoying the admiration in her eyes. He moved to lick the marks gorged down her back, but then remembered they had an audience. He glanced awkwardly at the dark gray tom.

"I'll guard the medicine cat's den." With an effort, the WindClan tom pushed himself up against the log and limped around to its entrance.

Oakheart stood alone for a moment, facing Moonpaw. The battle faded into the distance around them as he looked into her sparkling eyes. Finally he stepped forward, mewing, "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

Moonpaw cast an uncertain glance around at the battle. "What about WindClan?"

"They've got enough warriors to help them." Oakheart helped her to her paws and, bracing her against his shoulder, they padded out of the clearing.

Moonpaw flopped down on the ground somewhere in ThunderClan territory. She sighed in relief, twisting around to examine the cuts on her back. She winced slightly but began to lick them clean.

Privately, she was thankful to be back home. And back with Oakheart, too! She closed her eyes, knowing she would miss her friends in WindClan but certain ThunderClan was the clan she was destined to be with.

"I'm glad you're back." Oakheart settled down beside her, stretching out his neck to lick her wounds.

Moonpaw lay down, eyes closed, taking comfort in his gentle touch. "Me too." She sighed. "I missed you, you know."

Oakheart paused. "I did, too."

Moonpaw raised her head, smiling weakly. "I never did congratulate you for becoming a warrior."

Oakheart ducked his head, embarrassed. "Yeah, well-" He froze as Moonpaw gave his ear a lick.

"There you go," she purred. "Congrats."

Oakheart laughed softly. He continued to clean her wounds for a moment before saying seriously, "Moonpaw, when you went missing I was so worried about you. I thought you'd died before I could tell you…"

He turned away, murmuring, "Before I could tell you I loved you."

Moonpaw's paws tingled at that thought. "You…love me?" she whispered.

"I always thought it could somehow work out," he mumbled. "Even though you're a medicine cat and I'm a warrior."

Moonpaw closed her eyes, turning her head away. Oakheart pressed his nose against her cheek, begging, "Please, Moonpaw, tell me if you feel the same way. I need to know…"

"I wish I could," Moonpaw whispered. Her heart was torn now, more than ever, but the warrior code held her back.

A suddenly yowl made both of them jump. Oakheart leaped to his paws.

"It came from over here!" He vanished through the undergrowth.

"Oakheart, wait!" Moonpaw called, racing after him and following his scent through the bushes.

The tom skidded to a stop and Moonpaw nearly ran into him. She stepped around him and peered into the clearing split by a stream, the border between ShadowClan and ThunderClan.

With a gasp of shock, she recognized Russetfur, the ShadowClan deputy, caught in a Twoleg trap. She trashed wildly, her choked yowls echoing around them. The trap had snared her around her neck, and blood poured from the wound.

Moonpaw padded forward, eyes wide.

"Moonpaw, be careful!" Oakheart warned, but she ignored him.

Russetfur stared up at her, tried to say something, and was choked off by the trap. Gasping once for breath, she fell back and lay still.

To be continued...

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Please review!

Author's Note: This is about the half-way point of the whole story, and so I'd like to know what you guys think: should I write the whole story under 'Rising Moon' or would you prefer if I split it into a sequel? The sequel would have updated allegiances.

Either way would be fine with me.