A/N- This is the penultimate chapter of my story, and if you don't know what that means, go look it up in a dictionary or go read my fanfic, Warriors Driving Lessons!

Disclaimer- I don't own warriors, and i'm not Erin Hunter.

Chapter 14

Silverpelt could see nothing but water. He had been pulled under the surface and couldn't breathe. He fought to rise but something pulled him down. He saw Tigerpelt dragging him to the riverbed. Silverpelt kicked out hard, breaking free from Tigerpelt's grip and surfacing.

The river wasn't very wide, a cat could easily jump across it, but it moved very fast and the two cats were already nearing the edge the clearing.

As Silverpelt broke the surface of the river, he looked around. Orangestripe was watching him, her face showing absolute panic. Silverpelt turned and saw a stream up ahead, flowing from the river. He kicked towards it but a paw grabbed his leg and Silverpelt went under again.

Tigerpelt had a grip on his leg and raked his claws down Silverpelt's side. Silverpelt cried out, losing valuable air. The water became clouded with blood and Silverpelt couldn't see his attacker.

Suddenly, he felt Tigerpelt's grip weaken, and then disappear altogether. He kicked upwards and surfaced just in time to see Tigerpelt's body float away downstream.

Silverpelt didn't have time to think about anything. He kicked out and grabbed onto a rock at the edge of the stream. He used it to twist his body round and into the stream. He stood up and padded over, onto the dry land. He collapsed at the edge of fourrocks and gulped in air. Orangestripe came rushing over to him and began to lick his wounds. He purred and got up, still struggling to get enough air. He paused for a few seconds, then, when he thought he was breathing well enough, he waked over to the other cats. When they had seen their leader dead, the Shadowclan cats had fled instantly. Froststar and Lionheart were sat by Frostfeather's dead body and Whitestar was still lying on the ground. Silverpelt walked over to his leader and looking at his chest. He had stopped breathing. Whitestar had lost another life.

Silverpelt went over to the Riverclan cats.

He looked down at the body.

"I'm so sorry." he said.

The cats nodded and continued to looked down on the dead cat.

Silverpelt bent down and licked her ear, then turned and went back to Orangestripe and his leader. Whitestar was sitting up, his leg no longer broken.

He nodded at Silverpelt and the three cats raced away across the river and into the bushes on the border.

Silverpelt was running after his leader. He leapt over a log and tried to organise the events that had just happened. Tigerpelt was dead, but so was his sister. His leader had lost another life and he had almost drowned. He was tired. Suddenly, another feeling struck him, hunger. He hadn't eaten all day! His pace slowed down and he dropped a couple of foxlengths behind.

He should have been excited, he knew that, but he wasn't. He may have just wiped out an immense threat that would have destroyed all the clans and wiped out the forest but he felt too sad. He had lost his sister. All he had left now was his father, but he was in Riverclan. Silverpelt felt strangely alone.

As they neared the camp, they heard the sounds of fighting. Silverpelt watched as a Shadowclan she-cat raced out of the entrance and away towards her own territory.

The three cats sprinted down the slope and into their camp. Whitestar had been right. Tigerpelt had organised an attack on the camp. Silverpelt watched as Whitestar leapt up onto the highrock. He screeched as loud as he could and all the cats, even Shadowclan, turned to listen.

"Tigerpelt is dead!" he cried.

The Shadowclan cats looked at each other, as if deciding whether or not he was telling the truth. Then they fled out of the camp and away to their territory. When they had gone, Brokenmoon asked,

"Is it true?"

"Yes," Whitestar replied, "He drowned."

The cats cheered and Greystripe approached Whitestar to tell him about the damage to the camp. Silverpelt walked over to Whitefoot and meowed,

"Do you anything for these injuries?"

Whitefoot stared at all the cuts and scratches on Silverpelt.

"How can you keep going?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Silverpelt questioned.

"You should have fainted by now, at least."

"Oh." Silverpelt looked at the wounds he had.

"I'll get some stuff for them." meowed Whitefoot.

He turned and went into his den.

Silverpelt looked around the campsite. It was ruined again. It would take ages to repair completely. He sighed. Things had changed so much. He remembered when the cats were almost all completely Thunderclan and there were older kits in the nursery. He had been so busy trying to stop Tigerpelt that he hadn't noticed things changing. He had barely noticed it when his friends had gone. He regretted that now. Things could never be the way they had been before.

Whitefoot returned from his den and pressed some cobwebs to Silverpelt's injuries. He examined a few of the bigger cuts and then turned away to look at Whitestar.

Silverpelt decided to ask about the Starclan cats later, when Whitefoot wasn't quite so busy. He went to the fresh kill pile and picked up a mouse. He ate it quickly then walked over to Orangestripe.

"Will we be safe now?" she asked him as he approached.

"I don't know." he said.

She looked up at him, her eyes dull.

"We've lost too much." she murmured.

He nodded, then licked her ear.

"But look at what we've gained."

Orangestripe glanced around the camp. They had three new warriors, three new apprentices and four new kits. Brokenmoon was now a medicine cat apprentice and Greystripe had become the clan deputy.

She purred. Then stretched herself and yawned.

"I think I'll sleep now."

She padded away to the warriors den and went inside. Silverpelt glanced at the moon shining on them. When it was full, in six days time, there would be another Gathering. They would have a lot to tell the clans then!

It was almost dawn. Soon the sun would rise and Silverpelt would go out hunting or be repairing the camp. He felt tired though and decided to go and sleep. He padded over to the warriors den and curled up in his nest. Hopefully, he wouldn't have any more prophetic or terrible dream ever again. He closed his eyes and began to sleep.