A/N: Sorry it's been a while since the last upload but uhhhhh I gave in to my incontrollable urge to start working on another fic while this one is still in progress and began writing a Quodo one-shot. Anyway not much happens in this chapter but I'll probably get another one done in a couple days so uhhh there you go I guess.

"Keep your body pressed low to the ground and your paw steps light," Foxfang instructed. "You don't want to let the prey see or feel you coming."

Waterpaw nodded, bending her back so that her chest fur brushed the rocks, which were still slimy and wet even now that the river had receded further down and no longer covered them. "Like this?" she mewed.

Foxfang shook his head, padding over to her and placing his paw on her lower back. "You need to keep your back straight," he explained. "And don't stick your tail up or the prey will see it. Honestly," he added gruffly, "I would have thought that such a 'special' cat would do a better job."

"Sorry," Waterpaw muttered. She tried to follow her mentor's instructions, straightening out her back and bending her legs so that her entire body was low to the ground. She let her tail droop, but Foxfang gave her another disapproving look. "What did I do now?!" she complained.

"Don't drag your tail behind you," Foxfang told her. "Keep it in the air; just don't let it stick up too high."

Waterpaw grumbled under her breath, but she did as she was told. Once Foxfang was satisfied with the position of her tail, she crept forward, one pawstep at a time. She tried to make her steps as light as possible, but it was hard to maintain the proper position when she moved, and she ended up shuffling awkwardly forward, her motions stiff and jerky.

Foxfang sighed, opening his mouth to criticize.

"You don't have to say anything," Waterpaw sighed. "I know I'm doing a terrible job. I just don't get why I have to learn about hunting land prey. I'm awesome at fishing, so why can't I just do that all the time?"

"It's true that our ancestors rarely ate any land prey," Foxfang agreed. "However, there may be times when there is a drought, or the water may become contaminated. If these things should ever happen, RiverClan warriors should be able to hunt land prey when needed."

It made sense, but that didn't mean Waterpaw was ever going to master the technique. She wouldn't admit that fear to her mentor, though- as far as he and her other Clanmates were concerned, she was just as confident as ever. But in reality, Waterpaw had been becoming less and less confident in herself with every passing day.

It wasn't that she was unskilled- she was still great at fishing and swimming- but she wasn't the best anymore. A few days ago she'd been on a patrol with Shellpaw, who'd caught two more fish than her. And the previous week, she'd been paired up with Oakpaw in battle training, and he'd managed to beat her using a move he'd improvised himself. Waterpaw had never been able to improvise a technique. She tried to work on being the best possible at everything she was taught, but just coming up with a new battle move all by herself was something she couldn't imagine herself doing.

The only cats she felt comfortable admitting her doubts to were Smokefur and Patchfur. But therein lay another problem- the brothers had been growing more distant with each passing day. As jealous of their emerging talents as she was, at least Shellpaw, Mallowpaw, and Oakpaw had been thrilled to see Waterpaw return safely after she'd gone missing. They hadn't been able to stop talking about how much they'd missed her, and how terrified they'd been that she might never come back. But Smokefur had simply given her a tiny nod of acknowledgement when she'd bounded over to him, eager to share her story, and Patchfur hadn't even been in the camp. Mallowpaw had told Waterpaw not to tell any cat, but that he was probably visiting that ShadowClan cat again- Birchpaw, who was apparently going to become a warrior soon. Waterpaw was happy for him, but she wished that he and his littermate would pay more attention to her.

One cat who had certainly been paying even more attention to her since she'd gotten back was Minnowleap. The first thing Waterpaw remembered after collapsing near the horseplace, an unconscious Grasspaw sprawled across her back, was being woken up by a flurry of anxious licks. She'd opened her eyes to find Minnowleap standing over her, her misty gray eyes wide in concern.

The first thing her mother had said was "Oh, Waterpaw, how could you have done that to me?!" followed by an unexpected bat to the muzzle. Waterpaw could have sworn she'd felt blood well up on her nose, but she must have imagined it- Minnowleap would never have attacked her. She had just given her a little bat with claws sheathed- a gesture of frustration, but frustration that was fueled by love and worry. She'd even apologized immediately after- "I'm sorry, my precious little raindrop," she'd purred, nuzzling Waterpaw briefly before pulling away and scolding her about her irresponsible actions.

"Raindrop" was an old nickname- something Minnowleap used to call Waterpaw when she was a kit. But she hadn't used the nickname in moons- not since Splashkit had died. Hearing her say it now had made Waterpaw brim with emotion, and regret at putting her mother through all of that. She'd vowed to never be that reckless again. If any cat from another Clan got attacked by an owl or any other dangerous creature again, Waterpaw would stay on her own territory and not put her pelt on the line to help them.

Even if it's Grasspaw, she told herself. I need to put myself first. I'm more important than him. But could she really believe that anymore? After all, he was the only cat outside of her own Clan who knew about her dead littermates. If she could trust him enough to tell him something like that…

Well, Waterpaw reflected, maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The more she told him; the longer she spent with him; the more times she replayed the time she'd spent with him inside her head as she curled up to sleep; it all added up. Waterpaw couldn't afford to get any more attached to Grasspaw at the risk of being disloyal to RiverClan. She shouldn't have been as attached to him as she already was. She wanted to just forget about him and never look at him again, but she knew deep down that it could never be that simple.

It had been well over a moon now since Waterpaw and Grasspaw had been captured by and escaped from an owl. They hadn't seen each other at all in that time- not even at the last Gathering. Waterpaw had thought she'd caught a glimpse of him once, but when she'd looked for him again, he wasn't there. She wasn't sure whether she'd simply imagined his presence there, or if the WindClan apprentice was avoiding her. As selfish as it was, she hoped it wasn't the latter.

Nearly two moons after they'd last seen each other, Grasspaw still couldn't stop thinking about Waterpaw.

He'd done his best to keep the pretty young cat out of his mind, but there was something about her that was very persistent. Just as she'd refused to give up when Grasspaw had been sure they were doomed, the imprint she'd left on Grasspaw's mind refused to fade away. It was like Grasspaw was a deep, muddy trench, and Waterpaw had walked all over him. Her pawprints still remained weeks later, forming a trail that led to a place where Grasspaw knew he could not go.

On a cloudy day, when it had drizzled all morning and now remained wet and dreary even though it was no longer raining, Grasspaw found himself nodding off. Maybe he should have offered to go on the hunting patrol that had left a few minutes ago, but Grasspaw wasn't really in the mood to hunt. Instead, he crouched next to a patch of gorse at the edge of camp, hoping that his mentor, Spikeear, wouldn't spot him and tell him to go make himself useful.

Cloudy days had always made Grasspaw sleepy. He closed his eyes and remembered running through the rain with Waterpaw at his heels, tumbling down a hill, and play-fighting before curling up to sleep. Letting the peaceful thoughts fill his mind, Grasspaw drifted off for a while, but his dreams were filled with unsettling images.

The rain beat down around Grasspaw, each individual drop piercing his pelt like thorns falling from the sky. All around him was open air; he was high above the ground. When he looked below him, all he could see was an angry lake. Its high and violent waves were tipped with white.

Grasspaw shivered as he looked out at the stormy waters. Rain and waves… this must be what the prophecy spoke of, he thought. Suddenly, the elevated platform shook, and Grasspaw tumbled off, falling toward the lake. His wail was cut off as the water engulfed him, closing around his head before he had a chance to take a final breath.

As he sank, unable to move, a cat appeared above him, standing on the water as if it were a solid surface. "Help me," Grasspaw cried, hoping the strange cat would notice him. But the cat didn't notice him, or even if they did they didn't help. They simply flicked their ears and ran away, their dark gray pelt fading into the colours of the storm.

Grasspaw jerked awake, gasping. Even though he realized within seconds that it had only been a dream, he still felt like he had been holding his breath- as though the dream had been more real than he knew. This uneasy feeling was only made worse when Grasspaw realized that his pelt had gotten wet- it must have rained again while he was napping. He shook it out disdainfully. "Stupid rain," he muttered.

He heard a throaty purr, and looked up to see Rabbitleap standing next to him. "Maybe you could take shelter from the rain in the elders' den," the brown warrior suggested. "And check Gorsewind for ticks while you're at it."

Grasspaw wrinkled his nose at that idea, but he'd seen it coming. With a heavy sigh, he rose to his paws and trudged reluctantly over to the elders' den.

"Why, Grasspaw, I must say I didn't expect you to be so cooperative," Rabbitleap purred, but there was genuine puzzlement on his face. "Not even a single complaint? You do realize you'll have to get that mouse bile taste inside of your mouth, don't you?"

"Well, excuse me for following your orders," Grasspaw muttered, giving his father a glare that was only partially real. It was true- most days he would have put up a bigger fuss about having to do such an awful task. But he still had thoughts of storms and drowning circulating in his head, and compared to sinking into a turbulent lake, mouse bile didn't seem so bad anymore. "Maybe I've just changed, okay?" he added bitterly. "I'm not a kit anymore, you know."

He stalked away, not giving his father time to respond.

In the elders' den, Gorsewind greeted him with a wave of his tail. "Hello, Grasspaw," the old tom meowed. "What brings you here today? I suppose you didn't just feel like seeing me."

Good guess, Grasspaw thought. "I'm supposed to check you for ticks," he mewed, gritting his teeth and doing his best to sound cheerful at the prospect.

Gorsewind nodded thoughtfully. "Actually, young'un, you're in luck," the elder told him. "Applepaw looked me over just a couple hours ago."

"Oh. Okay," Grasspaw muttered, breathing a small sigh of relief but trying not to make it too obvious. "Um, I guess I'll be going, then?"

He turned to leave, but Gorsewind beckoned him back over with his tail. "Sit down with me for a while," the elder offered. "You have a look about you that I know all too well. Old Sandstar used to get that look about him back in the day when something was troubling him. So, what's the problem?"

Grasspaw glanced outside again, but he listened to the elder and sat down next to him, although it was really more of a squat. He didn't much care to be interrogated about his personal life by an elder, and he hoped this wouldn't take too long. It didn't matter how perceptive the old cat was; Grasspaw was not going to tell Gorsewind about his inner turmoil or whatever stupid thing he wanted to hear about.

"I was napping just now and I had a bad dream," Grasspaw admitted- he thought he might as well start out with something that was true. "I dreamed there was a bad storm and I fell into the lake. There was a cat above me and I called for help, but they just walked away."

"Hmm…" Gorsewind nodded along thoughtfully to Grasspaw's recount of his dream. "Do you think it could have had anything to do with the time when you were a kit and Seedpelt almost drowned?"

Grasspaw doubted it had anything to do with that event, but he decided to go with that explanation- it would be simpler than the whole truth. It was silly of him to think the dream could possibly be prophetic- he was just an ordinary cat. Besides, even if it wasn't the reason behind his nightmare, there was something important about that day. It was the day he'd first met Waterpaw, and Grasspaw knew he'd never forget it as long as he lived, even if he tried to.

"I think that experience may have had some lasting effects on me," was what Grasspaw chose to say out loud. "They may have contributed to my dream."

"Have you dreamed about drowning before?"

He shook his head. He'd dreamed about water and rain and rivers and lakes, but never about drowning. Usually Grasspaw didn't even remember his dreams; they were gone minutes after he'd woken up.

"Y'know, right after Sandstar became leader and StarClan started talking to him, he used to have a lot of troubling dreams whenever something bad was about to happen- or even when it wasn't," Gorsewind murmured, gazing off into the distance. Grasspaw guessed that he wasn't really looking in front of him at all- he was looking behind him; far behind, into days long gone by. "Sometimes he'd go consult Deerspots- she was our medicine cat before Podtail- but he never got on too well with her, and I reckon he didn't think Roseflower wanted to hear about it- and I'd say he was right."

He paused, chuckling slightly, before continuing.

"Most nights Sandstar would pop into the warriors' den and march right up to my nest. See, back when he was a warrior, we put our nests right next to each other. It had been that way when we were apprentices, too. He'd end up sitting and talking with me for the rest of the night, but he'd always fall back asleep before the sun rose- and then I'd follow suit," Gorsewind purred. "In the morning he'd sneak back to the leader's den before the rest of the Clan woke up and found him sleeping next to me. He even tried to make me deputy once- me! Can you imagine that? Oh, we had some good times together in your youth…"

He trailed off, and Grasspaw searched for something appropriate to say. "I guess you and Sandstar are really close, huh?" he mewed at last. It wasn't much, but it was the best he could come up with.

Gorsewind gave a scratchy purr, but it broke off into a coughing fit. Grasspaw was about to ask if there was anything he could do, but the elder recovered and straightened up. However, the laughter was gone from his eyes now, and it was replaced by a wistful and long-faded look of longing.

"We were close, young'un," the elder sighed. "We really were. But now… things aren't how they were when we were young. About a year ago now, when I stumbled and fell while I was running after a rabbit and broke my leg, it finally sunk in with Sandstar how old I was getting- how old we're both getting. It was just a few days later that he officially retired me, and he wouldn't look me in the eye the whole time he was performing the ceremony. But it was long before then that we started to drift apart."

Grasspaw sat up straighter, suddenly intrigued. It may have been strange, but something about Gorsewind's story reminded Grasspaw of himself. He remembered with a pang of regret how he'd snuck away from a Gathering the previous moon because he'd seen Waterpaw in the crowd and she'd looked like she was looking for him. Keeping his dream about water destroying grass in mind, he'd decided it was best to avoid her, no matter how much it hurt him to do so. But was that really been the right decision?

"It may be hard for a young cat like you to imagine, but I wasn't always an elder, and Sandstar wasn't always the Clan leader," Gorsewind continued. "There was a time when we were just two eager young toms who wanted desperately to serve WindClan one day to the best of our abilities. Our mothers were very close, and we were born just a couple moons apart, so we ended up playing together a lot as kits. When he became an apprentice before me, I used to sneak out of camp to spy on his training sessions. And when I was finally a 'paw just like him, I made sure to put my nest in the apprentices' den right next to his."

"Wow," Grasspaw breathed, genuinely amazed by their obvious devotion to each other. "I've never had any cat in the Clan who's that close to me."

"Oh, I suspect few were so lucky- at least not starting from so young. But by the time Sandstar was a warrior- his warrior name was Sandstone, if you were wondering-, I was becoming surer with each passing day that our bond was deeper than any friendship." Gorsewind lifted his tail and rested it momentarily in the air next to him, hovering at about the spot where a cat's shoulder would be. Grasspaw wondered if he was imagining Sandstar there beside him. "As soon as I was a warrior too, I did my best to spend as much time with him as possible. And the craziest thing was: he never got tired of having me around. We became the talk of the Clan- 'Gorsewind and Sandstone went on a long walk together by the lake yesterday!' 'I think I saw them cuddled up in the same nest last night!' Little did we know that we'd soon prove them right."

Grasspaw was about to ask what he meant when Seedpelt appeared at the entrance, meowing a greeting. "Hey, Grasspaw, do you want to go hunting with me and Barkstripe?" the sleek brown warrior asked. He dipped his head respectfully to Gorsewind. "Good afternoon, Gorsewind. How are you feeling today?"

"…Reminiscent," the elder answered. Seedpelt gave him a puzzled look. "Oh, I'm just kidding with you," Gorsewind purred. "I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking."

"Great," Seedpelt mewed. Then he turned back to Grasspaw. "So, do you wanna come?"

"Sure," Grasspaw agreed. "Hunting sounds like fun."

The sun sank low in the sky, painting the lake in a dazzling array of soft, pastel colours. Purple clouds drifted across the sky as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the whole sky red. It was the most beautiful sight that Waterpaw had seen in ages, and it made the long and grueling training session of the day that was now coming to an end all seem worth it.

"You worked hard today," Foxfang grunted from ahead of her, forming the words around a trout he'd caught at the lake. "Good job."

Waterpaw dipped her head before she realized her mentor couldn't see her without turning around. "Thank you," she mewed instead, adding wistfully, "I didn't catch any fish, though…"

"New hunting techniques are hard to perfect," Foxfang reassured her. "Lakesplash said she also had trouble learning how to fish in the lake after getting used to fishing in the river."

"Speaking of Lakesplash, how is she?" Waterpaw asked. Foxfang hadn't talked about his mate much lately, but he had been spending more and more time with her in the nursery, and she was beginning to wonder if something was wrong. "It must be almost time for her to give birth."

Foxfang didn't answer at first. He slowed down and then stopped altogether to look out at the lake. Waterpaw was about to repeat her question when he drew in a long breath and answered.

"Lakesplash is doing fine," the ginger warrior meowed, although he didn't look Waterpaw in the eye as he said it. "Mossnose says she'll have her kits any day now, and that judging by the size of her belly, it's going to be a big litter."

"Well, that's great," Waterpaw mewed with relief, trying not to sound too surprised about the queen's wellbeing. Then she narrowed her eyes; something didn't add up about her mentor's behaviour. "Why all the secrecy, then?" she asked, leaning in inquisitively.

To her surprise, Foxfang actually hissed at her. Waterpaw stepped away, her eyes widening. "That is none of your business," he told her, standing up to glare down at her. He drew his lips back in the beginnings of a snarl. "I am your mentor, not the other way around. I don't have to answer all of your questions about my personal life."

Waterpaw gulped; her mentor had never looked so scary. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I just wanted to make sure she was okay…"

"She's fine," Foxfang hissed, his eyes flashing. Then he relaxed, continuing on his way as though nothing had happened. Waterpaw was hesitant about following him, but he was right- he was her mentor. So she kept her muzzle shut and her head down the rest of the way back to camp.

As the sun sank out of sight and the vibrant sky faded into star-studded blackness, Waterpaw couldn't help but wonder- was Lakesplash really all right? Somehow, she doubted it.