A/N: I am SO sorry for the delay. To sum it up, I'm taking Honors English, and the writing I have to do for that continuously pushes my fics back. Plus, I need reviews from people so I know this is still being read; I know it's been a long journey, but stick with me, please, we're not done yet...
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"Sunfire?"
Opening one eye to an emerald slit, Sunfire saw bright amber eyes peering down at her; Softpaw stood over her, her head tilted inquisitively. Forcing herself to move, Sunfire rolled onto her belly. "Hmm?"
Softpaw stepped back, dipping her head respectfully. "Mudspeckle told me to wake you. Rustypaw and I are being assessed today, remember?"
Sunfire sat bolt upright, cursing herself for having forgotten. She'd been so distracted yesterday, being with Icestorm as she was, and Lightningstar's evening-meal reminder that Softpaw and her brother were having their assessment had slipped out of her mind the second she heard it. "No, Softpaw, I didn't remember," she sighed. "Sorry–and thanks for getting me up." She stepped out of the den, shivered at the cold air and ground, and headed for the fresh-kill pile.
Softpaw followed, her fur fluffed out. "Mudspeckle's told us we can go as soon as you're ready."
Sunfire nodded, unenthusiastically turning away from the fresh-kill pile; she'd have to wait until sundown to eat. Softpaw and Rustypaw needed all the assessment time they could get, especially with the early, harsh frost. "Give me one minute to wake up more," she told Softpaw, stifling a yawn.
Watching Softpaw bounce over to the slope to join Rustypaw, Sunfire raised a hind leg and scratched an ear, trying to blink sleep from her eyes. Taking a lung-full of the cold, dry air, Sunfire shook herself, starting towards the slope, hoping Mudspeckle had chosen the apprentices' destinations assignments; she was too tired to decide. Arching her back and extending her forelegs, she stretched her leg muscles as far as she could. Feeling more energetic, she padded over to the apprentices.
Mudspeckle sat with them; he greeted her with a nod and said: "I've selected their routes; we'll both be watching them." Turning to the apprentices, he meowed, "Softpaw, you're going to the lake–take the path that runs along the long line of fir trees." Softpaw nodded, and Sunfire was proud to see the confident gleam in the young she-cat's eyes. "Rustypaw, go southeast, towards ShadowClan territory. Hunt along the stream, but remember the small clearing belongs to ShadowClan." The dark orange tabby flicked his tail, looking as calmly surefooted as his father Orangestripe had in life. "You have until sundown, when you will meet us at the slope's top," he finished. "Be off."
Softpaw eagerly scampered ahead, but quickly adjusted her pace to something like a rapid stalk. Rustypaw sauntered away, scenting the cold air. Mudspeckle spoke.
"Darkcloud's ill," he said. "Been with Treeshadow and Rootpaw all night with an appalling bellyache, so he asked me to take his place trailing Rustypaw."
Sunfire nodded, happy; this way, she could shadow Softpaw and see her perform firsthand, and would not have to hear a secondhand report. Inhaling deeply, knowing Softpaw would not fail to impress by sundown, Sunfire stood, and started slowly following Softpaw's scent trail.
Good day for the assessment, she thought. Still air, no fog, clear sky...and with any luck, no Tribe.
But then, anything can change in a heartbeat, she added, both dry and grave.
A patch of freshly disturbed earth caught her eye; stepping up to it, she scraped aside the hard, nearly frozen earth to find a dead mouse stuffed in a shallow hole. With satisfaction, she noted Softpaw's scent clinging to the rapidly cooling body. Carefully she re-covered the fresh-kill, impressed with the prompt catch.
She knew the assessment would test skills Softpaw and Rustypaw had not had proper practice with, such as detecting small animals moving underneath the carpet of fallen leaves. It was crucial this ability was perfected, or at least polished, before the forest was plunged into deep leaf-bare, when prey numbers would be cut in half. Sunfire knew that Badgerclaw and Quickriver were focusing solely on difficult hunting with their apprentices, Fogpaw and Dewpaw, by sending the siblings to stretches of territory that had scant prey even in greenleaf.
It's a hard time we all have coming, that's certain.
A stinging wind swept through the trees, making the stark black branches rattle ominously, accentuating Sunfire's thoughts.
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"Well done," said Sunfire hours later, looking over the two mounds of fresh-kill appraisingly. "You two just passed your assessment, no doubt." Softpaw glowed, throwing her chest out proudly. Rustypaw merely gave a slight, modest smile.
Mudspeckle was inclined to agree. "Come on," he said to the apprentices. "Let's gather this up and take it down. The Clan hasn't eaten this well in days." Turning to Sunfire, he added softly, "Lightningstar will want a report. He's already talking about making them warriors." The latter was whispered so quietly that Sunfire, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the deputy, strained to hear it. She stared at Mudspeckle, astonished; apprentices were never made warriors so early! Pondering this, she scooped up some of Softpaw's catch and carried to the pile.
"Hey," Raintail greeted her, trotting over to Sunfire, her long gray tail held aloft. "Seems the apprentices did just fine," she mewed cheerfully, eying the fresh-kill that filled the jaws of all four cats.
"Anything interesting happen while we were out?" asked Sunfire, depositing the fresh-kill.
"Granitekit crawled away from Nightwhisker while she was napping. He got halfway across camp!"
Sunfire glanced over at the nursery, where Nightwhisker was undoubtedly curled up with Granitekit. "That's impressive," she said. "He's barely a moon old, right?" Despite his young age, Granitekit was half again the size of many kits his age, and strong muscle was already developing beneath his short, gray-brindled pelt.
Raintail nodded. "Badgerclaw wanted to let him keep going until he tired out, just to see how far he could get. I didn't like it. Granitekit could've gotten hurt, or sick–"
"Have some optimism," interrupted Sunfire. "It's good to see we have strong future warriors." Touching Raintail's nose affectionately, she turned and walked towards Lightningstar's den. As she poked her head through the draping willow branches, Lightningstar looked up.
"Ah, Sunfire. Come in." She did so, trying not to appear worried at how slowly he eased himself up; the creaking of his old joints was audible. With a slight shudder, she recalled, again, his age and one remaining life. He was visibly slowing down as leaf-fall wore onto leaf-bare, taking far less patrols, spending more time curled in his bedding. Sunfire remembered when she had been his apprentice, his age had been evident, yet back then he had borne his many seasons with grace. Watching him become hindered by his age was painful for her, and she knew that eventually he would die forever.
Stop that, she snapped at herself. You've been melancholy for too long. "Softpaw did well," she finally said, reminding herself why she was here. He nodded, indicating he wanted minute details. Sunfire gave them in a crisp, definite voice, pushing back her concerns about her leader. "She's quite the young huntress," she concluded some time later, having gone through Softpaw's every triumph and failure–though there were hardly any of the latter.
Lightningstar nodded and began to speak, but whatever he'd been going to say was interrupted by a spasm of wet, heaving coughs. Sunfire forced herself not to jump back in repulsion and fear as he sucked in a deep, rattling breath, his eyes watery.
"Could you get Treeshadow or Rootpaw?" he wheezed, his flanks heaving.
Sunfire nodded, forcing herself not to bolt out of his den. Instinct made her fear any disease she might contract, and Lightningstar was clearly ill, or at least catching something. She found Rootpaw first.
"Lightningstar's ill," she reported hurredly to the small brown she-cat, who looked mildly bewildered at Sunfire's abrupt appearance. "He's coughing badly, and having trouble breathing."
Concern darkened Rootpaw's deep amber gaze. "Wet coughs, or dry?"
"Wet."
Rootpaw lifted a lip; whether out of repulsion or worry, Sunfire couldn't tell. Without another word, the medicine cat apprentice bounded over to the willow-den. Sunfire stared after her; though she knew that Rootpaw was skilled in what she was learning, she would have felt much better if Treeshadow had gone in.
"Everything alright?" murmured a quiet voice from behind her.
She tensed slightly, startled. "No," she said bluntly, turning to see Icestorm standing at her shoulder. "Lightningstar's ill."
"I heard," he meowed, pressing his flank against hers. "How do you know it wasn't just...well...coughing? It is possible to cough and not be sick." His breath ruffled her ear fur, and Sunfire suppressed a shiver as he nuzzled her.
"I just know," she answered lamely. "This is the last thing we need," she muttered.
"Stop worrying," he soothed, nudging her towards the fresh-kill pile. "You've brooded for too long. You need to eat, especially now."
Sunfire didn't appreciate being treated like a paranoid kit, but she liked being close to Icestorm again too much to speak her mind right now. She allowed him to lead her over to where Raintail was sharing a rabbit with Morningcloud.
"Any news?" asked Sunfire, settling down gracefully between Raintail and Icestorm.
"I was patrolling on the WindClan border," mewed Morningcloud immediately. "There was a warrior I know well from Gatherings; Breezeflower, she is called. She says that the Tribe has stolen two kits from the nursery. They were still nursing, they were so young." Her normally friendly, warm face was dark and hard.
The other three jerked their heads up; Raintail actually gagged on a piece of rabbit. "That's...horrible!" she gasped.
Icestorm was frowning deeply, the blackbird he'd been nibbling forgotten. "How did the Tribe slip in and take two kits?"
Morningcloud shrugged helplessly. "I cannot say," she sighed.
"Have you told Lightningstar?" demanded Sunfire sharply. Rather too sharply: gentle Morningcloud winced at her tone. "Sorry," she meowed, slightly awkwardly.
"I told him when I returned. I knew he needed to be warned of such a thing."
Sunfire stared at the blackbird. Things were certainly escalating if the Tribe were stealing kits; Nero and Shadowfur had apparently recruited all the rogues and loners they could, and now needed other methods to gain more cats. And what better way to ensure loyalty than to raise suckling kits to hate the Clans?
The four had lapsed into a grave silence, picking at the fresh-kill, when a shrill, thin wail rose from the nursery. Sunfire threw her ears back, eyes dilating, fur prickling with dread. All the Clan turned to stare at the tangle of brambles and low shrubs; Lightningstar poked his bleary-eyed head out from his den.
Nightwhisker burst out of the nursery, her long black fur catching on the thorns. She put her nose to the ground, sniffing frantically, her blue eyes wild. Cold dread washed through Sunfire as a possibility came to mind...
"Nightwhisker!" Badgerclaw shouldered his way through the wall of cats that had begun to form around his mate. "What is it?" His deep, rough voice echoed the queries of the others. Nightwhisker looked up, her eyes rolling and stretched beyond wide. Sunfire had flown to her feet, her heart pounding; though she'd never kitted, some deep, she-cat knowledge told her what was wrong. Fury roiled through her as she scanned the growing crowd and realized Hawkclaw was absent. StarClan, let him be killed if he did it...
Nightwhisker seemed to be searching for words. Her flanks heaved with fear, and her generally soft voice rose to a shrieking caterwaul as she howled:
"Granitekit is gone!"
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