Chapter 13! I'm on a roll now! It's Goldenhawk's POV again.

GOLDENHAWK

The golden brown tabby tom swiftly padded through the small burrow in the thorns and brambles that surrounded the CoralClan camp, hoping his presence had gone undetected. He had stopped in the Oceanpool to wash the pungent scent of MeadowClan off of his sleek golden-striped pelt, but he could only pray to IslandClan that he had washed it off completely. As he emerged on the other side of the entrance, in the camp, he heard low, anxious murmurs. Tabby fur bristling, he noticed a crowd of cats waiting anxiously outside of his den.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Goldenhawk meowed, claws of dread clutching his heart. A light gray tabby she-cat turned to look at him with narrowed blue eyes, her face etched with concern.

"Pelicankit won't stop coughing," Gentlebreeze replied, her gray tabby tail-tip twitching nervously. Icewhisker, her mate and Pelicankit's father, stood beside her, his silver fur bristling anxiously. Goldenhawk felt his heart sink to his paws as he realized that the little kit must be very sick for Icewhisker to be so concerned. Nodding calmly, he pushed his way past the two cats and went into the hollow that was his den.

The small gray tabby kit was lying in a bed of moss, his body racking with deep, chesty coughs. His green eyes streamed, and as Goldenhawk touched his little pads, he recoiled at their warmth. Dread clutched his heart once more as he realized that Pelicankit had greencough, a deadly chest infection that kits rarely recovered from. From the looks of it, Pelicankit wasn't going to pull through. Goldenhawk sighed, and was startled when a pair of blue eyes blinked up at him.

"Is Pelicankit going to be okay, Goldenhawk?" Featherkit squeaked in her little kit voice, her silver tabby tail swishing. Goldenhawk hesitated, lost for words. How could he tell this little kit that her brother was going to die? Featherkit seemed to understand by the look in Goldenhawk's amber eyes, for she let out a little wail of grief and crouched low to the ground. Awkwardly, Goldenhawk licked her between the ears, trying to soothe the distressed kit.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Featherkit asked the CoralClan healing cat, her blue eyes big and pleading. Blinking in surprise, Goldenhawk nodded, his amber eyes narrowed in thought.

"You can make sure he eats these herbs," Goldenhawk meowed, pushing a pawful of herbs towards her with his white front paws. Featherkit nodded vigorously, and she picked up the herbs in her tiny maw, padding towards her brother with a quiet sense of purpose.

"Pelicankit?" The little gray tabby lifted his head wearily, blinking sleep from his green eyes as he recgonized his sister's voice. Featherkit seemed unusually gentle and determined as she meowed softly, "You need to eat these herbs. I know they'll taste yucky, but you need to eat all of them, okay?"

The gray tabby blinked at her as if he did not quite understand. Featherkit took a tiny bite of the herbs and mimed chewing to the sick kit. Understanding gleamed in Pelicankit's green eyes, and he slowly began to chew, his face contorted with disgust as he swallowed the bitter-tasting herbs. Goldenhawk's whiskers twitched with amusement, and he watched as Featherkit's silver tail curled up with pleasure. Goldenhawk had mixed in poppy seeds with the herbs, and Pelicankit slowly began to drift back into sleep.

A yowl sounded from outside of Goldenhawk's den, and the golden tabby tom recognized Cliffstorm's voice. He guessed that the brown tabby was calling a meeting, and Goldenhawk turned to the silver tabby kit, uncertain of whether to trust her with his sick patient.

"Featherkit," Goldenhawk mewed softly, his tail swishing nervously, "Can you look after Pelicankit while I go to the meeting? If he wakes up, or if he gets worse, I need you to tell me, all right?" Featherkit's blue eyes blazed with excitement as she nodded vigorously, settling down beside her brother to listen to his breathing. Feeling comforted, Goldenhawk trotted up the sloping tunnel that led to his hollow and burst out of it, the sunlight streaming down on his tawny pelt.

Cliffstorm was standing atop the Speakingrock, his baleful yellow eyes gleaming with triumph. Twilightstar stood a few paces back, her gray-and-white tail twitching in thought. Goldenhawk padded forward to sit amongst his Clan, and sat down beside Stormywind, a dark gray tabby tom with friendly green eyes. Stormywind dipped his head respectfully to Goldenhawk, and the healing cat returned the gesture.

"Cats of CoralClan!" The brown tabby delegate yowled, his black stripes glinting in the hot rays of the sun. Goldenhawk wondered, briefly, why it was Cliffstorm who was speaking instead of Twilightstar. All ponderings of that, however, disappeared with Cliffstorm's next words, "There is no doubt that we are living through terrible times. We are being picked off one by one by that mangy MeadowClan. Mostly, Tornadostorm is killing all of our cats! That is why today, it is my pleasure to announce to you that we have taken the things that fleabag loves most. Or rather, the cats he loves most. Bring them out, Sunstrike, Ragingfire, Breezeclaw!"

The three cats that Cliffstorm had named appeared, their pelts claw-marked and bloody but their eyes clear and their tails held high in triumph. They pushed forward with their muzzles, three very bedraggled and exhausted-looking cats. One had very long white fur, stained with her own scarlet blood. Another was a long-haired light gray tom, his blue eyes gleaming with undisguised hatred. The last was a dark brown tabby tom who was limping, one of his back legs hanging uselessly from his body, though his golden eyes still burned with the light of battle. With a jolt, Goldenhawk recognized Dovefeather, Typhoonstorm, and Mudstrike, all protectors of MeadowClan. Dovefeather was Tornadostorm's mate, and Typhoonstorm and Mudstrike were their kits.

"Prisoners!" Cliffstorm's voice was full of malice as he glared down at the three MeadowClan cats. Dovefeather hissed in open defiance. Sunstrike, who was guarding the white she-cat, lashed at her with a front paw, claws unsheathed. The MeadowClan cat fell to the ground, but hissed again at the CoralClan delegate, and Goldenhawk couldn't help but admire her bravery. Cliffstorm growled viciously, and continued, "You will be questioned, and if you do not provide us with useful information, you will be executed in a quarter moon."

"I'd die before I told you anything, you mangy old furball!" Typhoonstorm spat, his blue eyes icy chips of hatred. Ragingfire lashed at him with unsheathed claws, striking him in the head. The MeadowClan protector winced, and fell to the ground. He did not move, but the faint rise and fall of his light gray flanks showed he was still alive.

As yowls of approval and support sounded from around him, Goldenhawk stared up at the CoralClan delegate, his yellow eyes wide with horror. Killing them...in cold blood? His blood turned to ice at the thought, and he shivered. As a healing cat, he could not stand idly by as Cliffstorm slaughtered innocent cats.

"Surely it is not the will of IslandClan for us to slaughter cats in cold blood?" Goldenhawk meowed, trying not to let his panic show in his voice. Cliffstorm narrowed his yellow eyes, his hackles raising threateningly. For a heartbeat, the healing cat was sure that the great brown-and-black tabby was going to leap at him and attack him. But he must have imagined the light of battle in the delegate's yellow eyes, for Cliffstorm remained on the Speakingrock, his golden eyes calm once more.

"It is not the will of IslandClan for us all to be killed!" Cliffstorm countered, his tail lashing in frustration. Yowls of approval rose from the crowd of cats around him, and, with a sense of impending horror, Goldenhawk realized that most of the cats supported the delegate's idea of execution. Goldenhawk dipped his tawny head, unwilling to argue any more with the delegate while the Clan was caught up in the moment. The great golden tabby licked his ruffled white chest fur, trying to hide his horror. As the three guards took the MeadowClan protectors into their den to await death, Goldenhawk stared up at the clear sky, narrowing his amber eyes with thought. The sky certainly didn't reflect the storm brewing in the forest, a storm that would bring nothing but unnecessary pain and death.

"Oh, IslandClan," Goldenhawk murmured, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice, "Show me a way to stop this."

A/N: It'd be really awesome if I got 25 reviews before the next chapter. -hinthint-