Russetfur crouched by Archeye's still form in the center of the camp. Snow was falling silently around her, but her body sheltered the remains from the white flakes. The rest of the camp had gone to sleep, so that only herself and the elders remained. Littlebird crouched, eyes closed, with her nose pushed into her mate's fur, her muscles as tense as an apprentice before their first battle. Stonetooth, on the other hand, had completely broken down, and was on the ground next to Russetfur, tears leaking from his clouded eyes.

Archeye was Stonetooth's only kit, and Berryflight, the gray elder's mate and Archeye's mother, had long since passed. With Cedarstar gone, the only blood relations Stonetooth had now were Russetfur and her littermates, and they were never close. The tom was much older than his son had been, yet the ex-deputy wasn't the one on his way to StarClan. Since most kits and apprentices went to Littlebird for stories, due to his fur-half-fallen-out appearance, and with Archeye gone, the tom had nothing to keep going on for.

Her ginger fur almost white with snow, Littlebird trembled with loss. She, too, had lost most of her family, and Hollyflower was always busy with her kits, even now, when they were apprentices. Archeye had been her mate since the two of them were young warriors, and had been friends since kithood. She could barely wrap her mind around the fact that he was gone. So she sat, quivering, wondering why StarClan had taken him.

Russetfur kept her nose pushed into his fur. The two hadn't been close, but his death, which struck as swiftly as a WindClan rabbit, made the warrior realize that this could happen to any cat. It could happen to Nightpelt, Vinepaw, Tanglekit - anyone. Even herself. Runningnose could only determine that the gray tom had died of old age, but many cats then wondered why Stonetooth wasn't the dead one, if that was the case. Russetfur thought it was simply his time to join StarClan - and that sooner or later, it would be hers.

Halfway through the night, Hollyflower joined the four silent cats, crouching between Russetfur and her mother, Littlebird. Her eyes were hollow with grief, and her claws never retracted for her anger. At a time like this, the queen found it nearly impossible to not be angry at StarClan. First, she had fallen in love with a cat that would never be accepted, then to have his kits and raise them in her own Clan, only to have judgment cast upon them by those who thought they knew.

Time stretched on, and by the time the sun peaked over the horizon, Russetfur had sunken into a stupor, blankly staring at Archeye's stripes and never twitching a muscle. As the dawn patrol started to collect themselves, Stonetooth shakily got to his paws. Littlebird stood after him, and then the two she-cats. Archeye's father and his mate carried him out of the camp, the tip of his back paw dragging in the snow.

Russetfur shook herself, partly to ride herself of the snow that had caked her fur throughout the night, and partly to come back to the world. Remembering that she was to be part of the dawn patrol, Russetfur forced her paws to move in the direction of the other warriors that would be going; Cloudpelt, Crowtail, and Blackfoot. Deciding not to wake Dustpaw, she followed Crowtail silently as she led the patrol. Cloudpelt and Blackfoot fell into step on either side of Russetfur, and she couldn't help but wonder for a moment if what Dustpaw had said about Blackfoot was true.

ShadowClan territory was covered in snow, deep enough in some places for even Crowtail's long legs to sink in almost completely. Russetfur's breath swirled about in the air visibly, opaque. The ginger warrior fell into a stupor, watching the even exhales of foggy air, and the rhythm of her paws sinking quietly into snow at the rear of the patrol, her green eyes staring blankly at Cloudpelt, preceding her, as his white form became almost invisible against the white snow. She snapped out of this only when Crowtail suddenly paused, tasting the air.

She followed suit, and detected a scent of WindClan. It was fresh, and close, but they were too close to Carrionplace to determine if it was a trespasser or an innocent border patrol. The warriors exchanged glances of suspicion, Russetfur's hollow stare coming alive for a while. Too soon, her eyes glazed over again and time passed slowly, her thoughts tortured and sad.

Upon her arrival in camp, she found that Dustpaw had been assigned to work with the medicine cats for the day. Knowing that the Clan needed fresh-kill over anything else, Russetfur set back out into the snow to try and find prey for her Clanmates. The snow had started falling faster and thicker and now, making lack of visibility an increasing problem. The warrior, still numb from loss and shock on the inside, focused on using her nose and ears to detect any trace of prey in place of her eyes.

No creature seemed to be stirring for the cold, and it was a very long time before Russetfur found any hint of life. Her extremities lacked any feeling, past the point of feeling the icy bite of freezing, when she scented sparrow. Russetfur immediately sank into a hunting crouch. Peering desperately through the blinding snowfall, she caught a tiny flash of brown two fox-lengths away. Cursing mentally that the one piece of prey she should find would be a tiny sparrow that she may not even catch for the distance, she crept forward ever so cautiously.

When she got to where Russetfur figured was within leaping distance, the warrior narrowed her eyes and sprang through the snow in a valiant leap, nearly sailing through the air with the force she put behind her jump - only to fall short. The bird let out a raucous alarm call, warning any possible prey in the vicinity and flew away in a flash of feathers. Russetfur spat furiously, giving chase to the bird, running below it as it flew, knowing it would have to land somewhere. Yet the bird kept flying, nearly effortlessly, through the clouded sky.

Panting and exhausted, the cat finally stopped running and fell face-first into a small drift of snow. She lay there a few moments, enveloped by cold and white, before sitting up to be stabbed by the bitter wind. She felt a wetness at her paws, and nosed away the snow to see that the heat from her paws had dissolved a bit of ice that she had accidentally sat on. She swept more snow away with her back paws and found that she was really standing on a large puddle, about three mouse-lengths deep and almost two fox-lengths across. Under the ice, which didn't extend to the bottom of the small pool, was a frog.

It appeared to be very weak or asleep, and it was large and fat. Wondering if StarClan was punishing her for having feelings for Tigerclaw, Russetfur growled at the fact that a fat piece of prey was just out of her reach, just like the sparrow. Pausing for a moment, Russetfur decided she would get the frog if it meant digging it out with her teeth. brushign off the rest of the snow with her legs and tail, she stepped forward on the slippery surface so that her back legs were just in front of were the frog barely moved.

Russetfur jumped straight into the air, stiffening her back legs and slammed back into the ice. The surface cracked with a sound louder than anything Russetfur had heard, and frigid water splashed onto her back paws, even as the force traveled up through her legs and into her spine. The warrior whipped around and slid her paw through the crack in the ice before it could close. The freezing water stabbed at her skin like needles, soaking through her thick fur instantly.

She extended a claw to sink into the frog's neck, killing it, and dragged it toward the fissure in the ice. Managing to get the dead creature out of the ice, a slow smile spread across her face. Maybe her frog would only feed one cat, and maybe only for a while, but she had gotten the prey in spite of a tricky situation, and it made her remember that she was ShadowClan, that maybe she wasn't as good of a hunter as a cat from another Clan, but her cunning was what got her this frog, and it was cunning that would get ShadowClan through the leafbare.


A/N: Didja notice? Didya didya didya? There's something very stylistically special about this chapter :) It's pretty obvious, but that's alright. I don't think there'll be another chapter in this story with the same something special, mostly because it was surprisingly difficult. Also, I'm sorry this is short, and that pretty much nothing happened at all, but I needed this chapter for reasons that will be clear later on. Twenty chapters! (That's not the special thing) Three of them don't really count (allegiances, prologue, etc.) but still! This is eight chapters longer than my longest story on FF, so I am very proud. In size twelve font with regular margins, this fic is eighty three pages. Eighty three! :) Okay, done being arrogant now. I don't remember what happens in the next chapter, but I think it's happy...happier...Review if you love Russetfur :3