I know you've been waiting for this chapter, so here it is. It's a bit different from the story so far, as it keeps switching POVs. Try to keep up, as it does work.

I hope you enjoy it, and look forward to the next chapter!

Marshpelt watched Appleheart as she trailed along behind Russetfur and Oakfur. Her pale tabby coat shone while the moonlight dappled it silver - just like the night of their first Gathering. She turned and gave Marshpelt a quick glance. Her brilliant green eyes seemed to stare right through him as he gave a tiny nod. Relieved, Appleheart sprang after her patrol.

Marshpelt gave a sigh. He couldn't believe he was going to have to meet up with a ThunderClan warrior. Appleheart had suggested that he wait a while before leaving to avoid suspicion; he headed into the warriors' den, then stopped.

Murky green eyes stared at him. "What are you and Appleheart planning?" Toadfoot asked. His voice sounded calm, but there was a hint of jealousy that Marshpelt detected.

"Nothing," Marshpelt replied, padding over to his bed of moss. He curled up in it, his amber eyes still open and wary as he gazed at his brother.

Toadfoot didn't take his eyes off Marshpelt. "Then why were you both whispering away all of today?"

Marshpelt suddenly reminded himself that this was Appleheart's brother as well as his own. He thought of all the times the three of them had shared secrets, as apprentices and as kits. "Okay," Marshpelt meowed slowly. "I'll tell you."

Toadfoot looked surprised. "You will?" he meowed before he could stop himself.

Marshpelt sat up. "Yes," he answered, flicking his tail backwards and forwards. "But you probably won't like it."

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Russetfur lifted her muzzle in the air, sniffing. "They haven't crossed the boundary for a while," she meowed, a note of satisfaction in her voice.

Rowanclaw looked pleased, but Appleheart wasn't listening properly. She kept glancing across to the ThunderClan border, hoping everything would be going okay between Marshpelt and Birchclaw. I can't take much more of this, she thought desperately. What if Marshpelt forgot to go? What if Birchclaw thought Marshpelt was an enemy, and attacked him?

She shook her head. She was being ridiculous. Everything would be fine between them, she knew it.

"Appleheart!" she heard Russetfur yowl from up-ahead. Abandoning her muddled thoughts, she sprinted after them.

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As Marshpelt drew closer to the ThunderClan border, his pawsteps instinctively became lighter and he lowered his shoulders. His thick fur tingled with apprehension, and his eyes flickered from side to side. Stopping a little way from the lake clearing like Appleheart instructed, he gave a small hiss. "Birchclaw…"

No noise came from the clearing, other than a gentle rustle of leaves.

"Birchclaw," Marshpelt tried again. He took a step forward and peered out into the clearing.

A heavy weight dropped on his back, and Marshpelt yowled in shock as pain stung either side of his flank. He dropped and rolled, managing to dislodge whoever was on his back.

Marshpelt sprang up, blood trickling from the scratch wounds on his sides. He turned, unsheathing his claws and baring his teeth, ready to claw the cat who'd attacked him.

Almost instantly, he faltered. "What…" he began to say, bewildered.

His world went black.

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Appleheart gratefully entered her camp, scenting the air around the camp entrance. Her heart sank when she realised that Marshpelt wasn't back yet, but she tried to not let it show.

To her surprise, Toadfoot was hovering beside the warriors' den entrance. He came over to her. "Is Marshpelt with you?" he meowed anxiously, glancing behind her.

Appleheart shook her head. "No. Why?" She did her best to look curious, but her heart was pounding madly.

Marshpelt glanced at her. He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I know about you and Birchclaw. It's okay." He rasped his tongue over her ear, smiling at the look of shock on her face. Then he suddenly remembered why he'd come over her. "Now that you're back, we should go and find Marshpelt."

Appleheart nodded, trying to swallow her surprise. "I guess," she murmured.

Toadfoot pressed his pelt against hers comfortingly. "Come on, then."

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"I can't hear anything," Appleheart mewed worryingly. Her green eyes glinted as she glanced around.

"Maybe they're just trying to get used to each other," Toadfoot suggested, but he was also getting worried. Where was Marshpelt?

Suddenly, Appleheart smelt something. She sniffed again, lifting her nose in the air. Her eyes widened. "Blood," she whispered.

Toadfoot immediately sniffed the air. It was faint, but unmistakable. It was blood, but whose blood?

Appleheart started trembling. "Please, StarClan," she breathed. "Please…"

The two cats began to walk slowly towards the scent. It grew stronger and stronger.

Suddenly, Toadfoot's ears went back. He stopped abruptly and stared at the base of a tall tree. Appleheart followed his gaze, and for a moment her heart stopped beating.

"Marshpelt," she breathed, rushing over. Toadfoot followed her closely.

A dark shape was curled up between the tree roots. Dried blood had formed on his back; blood clots that were still slightly warm. The cat was clearly unconscious, a deep scratch over his eyes.

Toadfoot glanced at Appleheart. "I'm going for Littlecloud," he said softly. "Stay here." He ran off into the forest again.

Appleheart felt fear rise up in her. Surely Birchclaw couldn't have done this to her brother? She began to lick Marshpelt's fur, wiping away the dried blood.

A low growl.

Appleheart froze. Slowly, she raised her head.

There was another growl. This time, Appleheart realised where it was coming from. The clearing, she thought to herself, her fur beginning to bristle. Slowly, she got to her paws and began to creep through the thinning pine trees. The growling got louder as she got closer. It seemed to be familiar…

Appleheart glanced out into the clearing.

Opposite her, a black shape was standing over a limp brown tabby. The grass around them ran scarlet; the dark, sticky smell drifted over Appleheart as she stared in horror. She began trembling.

The black shape turned around. Two eyes, once so warm, now stared in cold satisfaction.

"Appleheart," Smokefoot meowed calmly, wiping his bloodied paw on a patch of already stained grass. "I was hoping you'd come."