Wavepaw awoke slowly, feeling the dark wave of sleep ebb from his mind. He sat up, blinking in the low light of the barn. His tail stung, and he smelled terrible, but he was alive. He spotted Promisepaw curled up beside Shadowpaw and Sunpaw, and blinked, ears twitching with confusion. Trickpaw was sprawled out a few tail-lengths away from the warm huddle. Okay, I definitely missed something here.

"White-kitty Promisepaw had fight with Gold-kitty Trickpaw," a lilting voice informed the drowsy tomcat. "We saw the whole thing." Wavepaw whirled around to see that strange kitten sitting up on its hind paws, staring him down with its dark eyes. "Good Morning."

Wavepaw stumbled back with a soft yowl of surprise. He blinked, still not fully registering this strange creature. "Who...what...are you, exactly?" he asked.

"We are called Stone-Moss-Yis, yis. We are a weasel. You are in our barn. Shall we wake the sleeping kitties?"

Wavepaw glanced around, wondering why the weasel kept talking about a 'we' when it was apparently the only one of its kind here. "Er...no. I think I can do that myself." He padded over and placed a paw on Promisepaw's tail.

"'m not gonna come back," the white cat groaned, "not after all that..."

"I wasn't aware you'd left," Wavepaw meowed. "But, since you're not coming back, I guess I'll just be on my way without you." The amber eyes shot open.

"Wavepaw!" she yowled, tackling the tom. "You're all right!" The sound of her greeting woke the rest of the cats.

"Wavepaw! How're you feeling?"

"Hey Wave-Head, you scared us! Don't ever do that again, or I'll tear you open from nose to tail!"

"Glad you're okay, buddy. We're all ready to leave and find Moonchild. All we needed was you."

Wavepaw looked from Promisepaw, to Trickpaw, to Shadowpaw, to Sunpaw. A purr built up in his throat. "Thanks, you guys. I'm glad you're all here for me."

"We just wouldn't be the Prophecy Fulfillers without you," Promisepaw mewed, a teasing tone in her voice. Wavepaw noted a glint in Trickpaw's eyes, something that spoke faintly of jealousy. Did that furball actually think Wavepaw wanted to be mates with Promisepaw?

"Now that the gang's all together again, how's about we head out?" the silver tom asked lightly, trying to break up the pressure building between Trickpaw and himself. "I mean, we don't know how much longer we have to save PromiseClan, right?"

He saw nods from the rest of the group and pushed himself up to his paws. "Well, not like I actually met you, but thanks anyways." He tried to give Stone-Moss-Yis a friendly lick, but the weasel slipped away, muttering darkly under its breath.

"Trying to taste us, is he? Never!" The weasel scrubbed its face busily with a paw. "What does he think we are, some tasty mousie? Urgh!"

"Thank you, friend." Promisepaw was actually allowed to nuzzle its head gently. "But now that we are leaving, there's something we're all curious about. Are you male or female?"

Stone-Moss-Yis giggled. "Neither! We are neither one nor the other! Such happens sometimes. Perhaps this is why we are so strange." Wavepaw nodded. He could not detect any distinctive gender-related odor on its pelt.

Just like to point out here that an organism having no discernable gender does actually occur—although, it's about as likely as being struck by lightning in the middle of an earthquake while you hold a winning lottery card in your hands. So, yes, Stone-Moss-Yis is really an "it." I would know about these things. My mother is an L&D nurse (Labor and Delivery; babies being born). I hear enough stories from her about the weird things that can happen to babies. However, I would like to point out that chances are very slim Stone-Moss-Yis—if it were an actual, living creature—would have survived.

Padding out into the snow, Wavepaw was struck with curiosity about the odd thing Promisepaw held in her mouth. He asked Sunpaw about it. "She's using it to hold all her herbs. There's even some fresh-kill in there, too, I think." The tall cat raised himself onto his toes. "Yes, there's prey in there."

"Wonderful. We have healing and dining all in one easy-to-carry parcel. Nice." Promisepaw purred around the basket handle. Trickpaw shot Wavepaw a glare filled with that same jealousy-anger concoction. Wavepaw returned a look of innocence that said plainly, Not my fault!

"Lay off it," Sunpaw muttered. Wavepaw twitched his ears, but the tall he-cat's eyes were focused on Trickpaw. Wavepaw sighed softly. Shadowpaw padded up next to him.

"Before we spotted the barn, you started to say something to me," she mewed. "What was it, exactly? You said you really, really..."

Wavepaw felt his fur flush hot. Cats...couldn't blush, right? Because if they could, Shadowpaw would suffer death by purring in a minute. "Oh...er. I, uh...was saying that I really, really like muskrat." He nodded rapidly. "Yeah. It just—mm, mm—fills the ol' belly right up, doesn't it?"

"Yes. But they're nasty creatures. You don't go after them very often. They...bite first, think second. When did you eat one, though?"

"Back in...LakeClan. One strayed into our territory. We nabbed it in a blink. Bit of a strong flavor, though. I prefer fish."

Shadowpaw said nothing, but her whiskers gave a disbelieving ripple. Wavepaw let out a silent breath of air. That had been too close. He had almost revealed his semi-secret crush on—

"Shadowpaw, why don't you take the lead for a while?" Promisepaw asked, setting down her basket. "SwampClan cats are known for their razor-sharp instincts, right?"

"Among other things, yes." The dark cat stepped forward.

"Yes. Their noses, their wits, and their tongues," Wavepaw joked to Sunpaw. But the golden-ginger cat didn't purr. Wavepaw followed his gaze to Shadowpaw, standing confidently with her sleek pelt flowing out behind her like the waves of a midnight pool. Both tomcats released a happy sigh in unison and whispered, "She's beautiful." They whipped their heads around and stared.

"Whoa, she's your she-cat," Wavepaw meowed, backing away slightly. Sunpaw nodded as if confirming this statement. Wavepaw sang under his breath, "Shadowpaw and Sunpaw, purring in a tree..."

The silver tom bounded forward, away from the lovey-dovey Sunpaw. He found a spot beside Promisepaw. The white queen nodded to him. Wavepaw padded happily alongside her until Trickpaw's hot gazes seemed to sear the fur right off the back of his neck. He gave in and returned to his former position with Sunpaw.

"She-cats," Wavepaw muttered. "StarClan's gift and curse to the forest, eh, Sunpaw?"

"I like 'em anyway," Sunpaw replied in a whisper.

Wavepaw shook his head. "Ah, forget you. I was hoping to have an enlightening conversation about tom things. You know: fighting foxes, sinking your fangs into an enemy warrior's flesh...bloody things."

"Ew. No thanks."

"You're turning into such a little queen! What's next? Insisting that we stop at the nearest stream so you can wash your paws?"

"Wavepaw, if you're going to be such a sourpuss, I suggest you drop back and walk by yourself until you cool your paws."

Wavepaw snorted and lowered his head as a sharp gust of wind ruffled his ears. The stinging cold brought tears to his green eyes, which he quickly blinked away. Left there, they just might freeze. You never knew.

"This is terrible," Trickpaw complained, flattening his ears and screwing up his eyes. "I can't see my paws in front of my face! Promisepaw, Shadowpaw, whichever of you has the lead, can't we stop for a while?"

"Aw, come on, Trickpaw, where's your sense of adventure?" Wavepaw teased. "This is what being a warrior is all about! Freezing your tail off for the sake of your Clan! Pushing through harsh environments where you're the only creature who talks sense!...Wondering what you're going to eat for your next meal. Speaking of which, can we grab some lunch? I'm hungry."

"You're a stomach on four paws, that's what you are!" Promisepaw returned his teasing tone. Wavepaw felt the heat of Trickpaw's glower melt the ice in his muscles. His hackles rose reflexively. Why was Trickpaw being so hateful all of a sudden? Was it because of Promisepaw?

"Hey, some cat's got to keep the prey in check. Without us walking bellies, there would be mice, squirrels, and rabbits everywhere!"

"Squirrels," Promisepaw mewed longingly. "It's been ages since we've even scented a squirrel."

"Don't worry, we'll take care of you," Sunpaw meowed, his voice full of the usual optimism. Wavepaw wondered briefly if Trickpaw was giving him the evil-eye now. Strange, he had never noticed how protective Trickpaw was of Promisepaw. Kind of creepy, really. Bit like an obsession. What exactly happened while I was out cold?

"There's an overhang not too far ahead," Shadowpaw called back. "I think it's a good idea we shelter there for the night." She raised her tail straight up into the air, a dark beacon against the swirling mass of white. Wavepaw forced his paws to pull him through the deep drifts. The going was rough, and the silver cat was tired beyond all thought. He stumbled and fell. Teeth met in the scruff of his neck.

"You're not walking any more," the muffled voice of Sunpaw informed him. "Your tail's starting to bleed again. It's no trouble."

"You have no idea how grateful I am for that," Wavepaw mewed. "Where would we be without you, Sunpaw?"

"Lost, cold, and very hungry."

Wavepaw let Sunpaw carry him the distance to the rocky overhang Shadowpaw had seen. Once beneath the spur of rock, he sprawled out, exhausted. Scuffling sounds around him told the young cat that Promisepaw was sorting through her herbs. He heard a thump and opened one eye. A finch lay in front of him. "You can have that," the white cat meowed. "Just keep your tail still while I get working on it."

As he plucked the feathers from the piece of prey, he noticed that Trickpaw was watching him hungrily. Shadowpaw was pretending to look the other way, while Sunpaw studied his paws. "Uh...something wrong? Shouldn't you guys be eating?"

"Well...I dropped the basket...and that's the only piece of fresh-kill left...I don't know where the rest is..."

Wavepaw unsheathed a claw and started to separate the soft bird meat into equal portions. "Well don't let me have it all. You guys must be starving." Trickpaw nodded, Shadowpaw shrugged, and Sunpaw sighed. "Come on, I'm not gonna eat all this while you watch. Have some! I'll take the first bite and make sure it's not poisoned." Wavepaw swallowed a small scrap. "Tastes great! Have some!"

"I couldn't." Sunpaw shook his head.

"Not hungry," Shadowpaw mewed.

"I dunno."

"Stay still, Wavepaw!"

Wavepaw slumped into a sullen silence. "Look, I'm not eating any more until you do."

Trickpaw moved first. His paw snaked out and swiped one of the piles of meat. He started gulping it down ravenously. Shadowpaw shrugged and took a pile for herself and Sunpaw. Sunpaw nudged one aside for Promisepaw and took one. Purring, Wavepaw gulped down the last pile.

Promisepaw looked up when she had finished. "Try to keep your tail still, Wavepaw. I think you're lucky; you don't have the sickness Shadowpaw was talking about. I've heard there's no cure for it."

"On the contrary, I've heard of one medicine cat who—"

"Wavepaw...I think now would be a good time for you to rest."

"Suit yourself." Wavepaw closed his eyes lightly and listened to the sounds of his fellow apprentices settling down with each other. A paw prodded his side. He opened one eye a slit and saw Trickpaw framed in the reflected snowlight.

"What's wrong?"

"Listen, Wavepaw, I don't care what she-cat you go padding after but," He lowered his face to the level of Wavepaw's, "don't go near Promisepaw. She's mine. I don't care about codes. We're going to have kits one day. She agreed to it. So don't go near her!"

Wavepaw opened his mouth to ask Trickpaw if he was a sleep-walker like Summerpaw, but the golden tom had already curled up on the other side of the den—near the entrance, Wavepaw noticed. Trickpaw fluffed out his fur and curled into a tight ball. Wavepaw sighed. Trickpaw...this love will only bring you pain and sorrow. Can't you see it was never meant to be? But Trickpaw couldn't hear his thoughts, however desperate they were. Wavepaw laid his head on his paws and fell asleep.

.-''-.-''-.-''-.

The wind howled low over the treetops, causing bare branches to rattle together like deer antlers. Snow flurried down thicker than before, covering the cold ground in a white winter coat. The white fluff, however, failed to cover up the bright crimson fluid in the dirt immediately. It lay in a slushy puddle around the spots of blood, as well as a clumsily dug hole in the hard soil: a hole which now held the bodies of Hawk, Zachary, and Hera.

Undaunted by the cold, the sickness, and the obvious signs that she should give in while she was still alive, Ocarina pushed onwards.