Merry belated Christmas, guys! I got a white Christmas! Jack Frost finally visited! P; And the world didn't end, either! XD Also, my forum anniversary was on December 19! :D The story will start to pick up next chapter. I'm glad to hear that I got the birthing process right. And, just to let you guys know, I originally wasn't going to put the story of Amberpaw's birth in, but then I realized that I'd said that Amberpaw was born on a freezing day. And then, six moons later, it was still freezing and snowy. e.e So I added that in to fix my mistake, and also, it adds more to the phoenix part of this!

In addition I'm on winter vacation now! This year, my school pushed it back a week and took off a day. -.- But it's finally here! I'm planning to update and write a lot, so you can hope. ;) I mean, I tried to write and update a lot during Thanksgiving break, which, if you guys were paying attention, kind of failed. But I'll try! So, all in all, I'm pretty happy. ^^

Replies to anonymous reviews:

Guest: Can you call yourself something else than "Guest"? Thanks. :P Hmm. Right, if you're not thirteen or older, you can't be on this site. There's this site called "Quotev." I'm not sure if you have to be at least thirteen or older to sign up on there, since I don't have an account on there. I also am not sure if you can post Warriors stories on there, but you can try. :/ And sure, we can be friends! :) I'm not very good about cheering people up, but just follow your dreams.

Azureestrella: Wow, thank you! ^^ I do try to add amusing parts in here, and I'm glad to hear that someone thinks that Tigerpaw's and Amberpaw's relationship is developed, instead of "staring at each other for ages," as you put it. XD And I try to update fast. :)

Hulkiberry: Lol, she wouldn't let you leave? *is faintly amused* Oh, good, then! ^^ Thanks!

Chapter 18: Fresh-kill

As the days pass, the elders' den becomes visited. A lot.

Even a few of the younger warriors start to show up, and Brightsky remarks one day, "Wow, it's so crowded! I didn't know we had so many elders. Are Mousetail and Treefall offering you free fresh-kill or something?"

"Only stories," I purr lightheartedly, although the one tale that comes to mind is not so happy.

One time, Darkpaw asks, "Why's your name Mousetail if you're ginger? I mean, no offense, but it doesn't fit you. I've seen leaves more orange than mice."

"Ah, very nice question," Mousetail says. "When I was born, my coat was actually brown. So, my parents named me Mousekit. But then I became an apprentice, and my pelt turned orange. But I'd already grown used to it, and liked it, so my name stayed the same. Plus there wasn't really an urgent need to change it, even if it depicted the wrong color.

"Besides," she adds, eyes gleaming, "the name Mousetail suggests a quiet cat, doesn't it?"

We all nod.

"By the time I was known as a good fighter, it was too late for all the CreekClan and StoneClan cats whose noses I scratched!" she says loudly, shooting out a paw at Darkpaw's face, who squeaks, startled, and falls backward.

Mousetail chuckles along with the rest of us. "And there you have it," she says.

A quartermoon goes by quickly, and I'm relieved of my tick-picking duties. But I still visit the elders, of course, and when I don't, Brightsky might be there, curious to know the grandmother of her foster kits.

I begin to hear talk of CreekClan warriors stealing our prey. The sunrise after I'm no longer required to come to the elders' den anymore, one of the new warriors, Redpelt, says, "Mousebrained CreekClan cats. They're so fat already, there's really no reason as to they aren't sticking to their side of the border."

Ashfeather nods, leaning down to take a bite of her vole. When she finishes chewing, she says, "I hope Branchstar lets us take a swipe at them. It's been so slow lately."

My ears perk up at the sound of this. Since I was in the medicine cat's den for so long and missed a lot of training, and because I missed my first Gathering, I've been hungering for more Clan stuff. Normal things that happen in the Clans—not annoyances like being unable to train for about nine sunrises, or getting chased by a couple of dogs while rescuing a fellow acquaintance who doesn't like you that much, anyway. Paws tingling with the anticipation of a battle, I sidle over to the two older she-cats.

"A battle, you said?" I inquire.

"I certainly hope so!" says Redpelt vehemently. "We'll show those CreekClan cats not to mess with LeafClan!"

"Um, thanks," I say, and bound over to my sister. "Did you hear? There might be a battle with CreekClan!"

"Really?" Lilacpaw says.

"That's what Redpelt and Ashfeather were talking about. And, like Redpelt says, I certainly hope there is one! I'm bored!"

She rolls her eyes. "Battles are dangerous, Amberpaw."

"Only if you don't know how to fight," I counter. I playfully cuff her ear. "What, are you saying that you can't?"

"Yes, I can!" she says indignantly.

"Show me!"

With a growl, she leaps at me. I slide to the side, churning up snow that flies into Lilacpaw's face. Bonus!

Since there's already some on her, I opt for a not-so-traditional method: burying your opponent in snow. I work quickly, piling the white stuff onto her as fast as I can. When I finish, I stand back, admiring my masterpiece.

And then, it explodes.

"Incoming!" Lilacpaw screeches as she launches out of the pile I've constructed around her.

It probably wasn't what she'd expected, but I immediately scoot backward, more out of surprise than getting out of Lilacpaw's way. In either case, it achieves the same result: Lilacpaw landing in, you guessed it, more snow.

"Pfft!" she says, or rather, spits, slush flying out of her mouth. "Yuck!"

"I win!" I say, prancing in place happily.

She climbs to her feet and shakes the snow off her gray pelt. "Yeah," she acknowledges. "Good job. But seriously, there's so much snow it's unbelievable that anyone can actually move around. I wish greenleaf would come already!"

"I like snow," I say.

"But it's cold." She shivers.

I shrug. "It feels okay to me."

She gives me a curious look, then says, "Rematch?"

"Sure."

But as we ready ourselves, Cedarheart comes through the entrance. "We finally caught them on our territory!" he announces triumphantly. There is no need to specify who "them" is; by now every cat has heard about CreekClan's alleged stealing. "But we need reinforcements. A small group should do."

Falconflight looks up sharply from where he's grooming himself. "Excellent!" he says, jumping to his paws and surveying the camp. "Rainfall and Ashfeather, you may go. I will, too."

"About time," Rainfall says, her claws sliding out as she moves to join Tigerpaw's father at the bramble entrance.

Lilacpaw and I look at each other simultaneously. We want to fight, too!

"Please, can we go?" Lilacpaw asks, running up to Falconflight. "We'll help teach those nasty CreekClan cats a lesson!"

"I'm ready," is all I say.

He looks at me and nods. Then he shouts to Cedarheart, "How good is Lilacpaw at fighting?"

"Good enough," Cedarheart barks back. "It's just a border skirmish, but it may get bigger. We need to get a move on—I saw a CreekClan she-cat leave the group. She may have gone to get reinforcements, too."

"Please!"

Falconflight twitches an ear and finally says, "All right. You may go, too."

Lilacpaw nods her head stiffly, like she's trying to show that she's worthy of being picked to fight, and we join the other cats and set off.

Before long, we don't need to rely on Cedarheart's memory: We can hear the fighting with our own ears.

"Give that back!" Rainfall has scrambled ahead of us and now tugs on the wing of a thrush; a small silver tabby tom holds the other.

"No!" he manages through his grip on the bird. "It's mine!"

Several fox-lengths away, Breezetail wrestles with a dark golden-brown tom who has a mouse in his jaws. Every time the CreekClan warrior moves his head, which is quite often, as he's trying to get away, the small rodent ends up whacking either him or Breezetail on the face and throat.

The entire thing is so comical that I have to stop in my tracks and turn my eyes away to keep from bursting out in giggles. This is the patrol that we have to fight? These are the cats that we've finally caught stealing?

I pause and take a moment to count the number of CreekClan cats. There are five to the three LeafClan cats on the original border patrol, including Cedarheart—I can't see who they are because of how quick they move. Adding our party of five, that's eight LeafClan cats. No CreekClan reinforcements seem to have come yet.

With a loud growl, Rainfall tears the small bird from the silver tabby's grasp and immediately goes flying backward, landing on her rear. "Ha!" she exclaims when she stops skidding backward.

The CreekClan apprentice droops when he sees Rainfall holding the thrush. His head falls and he picks himself up, slinking off back onto his territory. My jaw drops. Is it a trick—how could he give up so easily?

Rainfall's having the same thoughts. Her triumphant expression vanishes when she sees the pitiful-looking tabby walk away. She drops the bird. "Hey!" she yowls after him. "What was that? You're just going to walk away?"

He doesn't look back.

But I have no more time to dwell on this strange development, because suddenly I'm knocked flat on the ground. Hissing, I twist and simultaneously push upward with my paws, getting up and lunging at my opponent in the same movement—a nice little trick I've perfected with Falconflight. I do it perfectly, but he or she must have backed away just in time, because I don't feel any fur between my claws as I land.

A wide-eyed tortoiseshell she-cat stares at me. "You have no prey!" she meows, surprised.

"Of course I don't," I retort. "The last time I checked, fresh-kill didn't grow on cats. Now get out."

"But—but—" She swings her head from side to side, backing away just slightly. She's still nowhere close to her side of the border.

"Out!" I catch her ear in my teeth to try to pull her forward a few kittensteps.

The CreekClan she-cat rips her ear away, and I'm morbidly satisfied to see a few droplets of blood glistening on the tip. In one fluid motion, she's sliding on her belly toward me and flipping me over like an overgrown fish. I let out a surprised squeak before climbing to my paws; I slip and end up falling on her. Before I can get up or apologize, we're wrestling on the snowy ground. "Sorry for landing on you," I say even as I try to kick her. It isn't very sincere, but what else can I do? "Out!" I shout every few seconds, but she seems determined to stay on LeafClan territory. Since I don't think I can drag this cat to CreekClan land without the element of surprise on my side, I subtly direct my movements toward the river on CreekClan's side. It seems to be working.

Abruptly and without warning, I'm clawing at empty air. I quickly scramble to my feet and see a dark brown tom dragging the tortoiseshell she-cat away. "Hey! That's my opponent!" I complain. The tom gives me a quick look as he hauls the CreekClan cat across the border.

"And stay there!" Tigerpaw says to the cowering she-cat. The sun beats down on a scene I haven't ever thought would happen.

I storm toward him. "What was that?" I demand. "I could have taken her! Just a few more seconds and I would have been done!"

"Could not!"

"Yes, I could have! I've been practicing a lot with Falconflight!"

"It doesn't matter," he says shortly, and stalks away.

Ignoring the fighting cats on either side of me, I run after him, muscles tight with anger. I've been waiting to prove my worth. Being stuck in the medicine cat's den didn't help my Clan; instead, it hurt it, because I wasn't do anything to help and was eating up food and taking space. Rescuing Cloudpaw didn't really count—and no one besides Doveflight really acknowledged it.

Defeating that she-cat would have given me more of a sense of self-worth. I would have proved to myself that I could do something. That I could help. That I was someone who had more than a fire-colored pelt and a secret promise going for her.

And then Tigerpaw took it upon himself to make sure that that all shattered.

What, does he think I can't fight or something?

I'll show him.

"Don't ignore me!" I roar after him.

But he does. He doesn't look back. I take a few more steps, then stop. This is not the time and place to confront him.

Later, I think grimly.

Then, a new presence makes everyone quiet—a light brown tabby she-cat, flanked by two warriors.

"It's Ripplestar," I hear Falconflight murmur in a surprised tone.

"What's she doing here?" a cat asks.

"I sense trouble," says another cat nervously.

"I wish to speak with your leader," Ripplestar says in an aloft tone.

I immediately look to Falconflight. After a moment, he says, "Very well. I shall take you to our camp. But please, tell your warriors to drop our prey."

All around, thumps sound. I wonder what will happen to the fresh-kill—I don't think I would like eating a piece of that after what they've been through.

"Come on, then."

"What's he saying?"

"I can't really hear anything so far. Just wait."

"Ouch, get your paw off me!"

"Sorry!" Abashed, I take my foot off Lilacpaw's tail and edge as close as I dare to the opening of the leader's den. Inside, the LeafClan and CreekClan leaders and deputies are having a hushed discussion. One that we're currently trying to hear.

"I think she said something about food!" whispers Lilacpaw.

"Interesting," I comment, only half-listening to Lilacpaw—I'm mostly focused on trying to hear more of their conversation myself.

"…honestly expect us to do this for you?" comes Falconflight's voice. This is a whole other side of him—his voice is cold and sharp like the ice that crackles along the tree branches in the forest. I really hope that tone of voice won't ever be aimed at me.

"We're starving… Can't you help?"

"Marshpelt!"

"It's true."

"What…to the…in your territory?" asks Branchstar, his words muffled.

"Frozen. Many warriors have already cut their paws, trying to…" I think she says "fish" next, but I'm not sure.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

We whip around as one to face Tigerpaw. My eyes narrow at the sight of him, but he looks as innocent as can be.

"I don't know," I say cuttingly. "Why don't you go and drag one of them out so that we can interrogate them?"

His ears twitch, and I know he's caught the extra emphasis on "drag." "Forget I asked," he says, and walks away.

"Whoa, what was that about?" Lilacpaw asks.

"Nothing," I say. "Except for the fact that Tigerpaw likes to steal other cats' opponents."

I feel mean as soon as I finish talking, and wish I can take it back. Will Lilacpaw repeat my words to him? Before I can say anything else, Branchstar, Falconflight, Ripplestar, and the CreekClan deputy, Marshpelt, vacate the den. I quickly turn my back and pretend I've been talking to Lilacpaw this entire time.

"Wow, that was awesome!" I chirp.

Lilacpaw swiftly catches on. "I slashed this one tom's ear," she brags. I don't know if she's for real or not. "He sure looked surprised!"

I catch Falconflight's smile as he pads by, and hide one of my own.

"Quick, they're going to the Hightree!" says Lilacpaw. "I think there's going to be a meeting!"

We dash from our place beside the leader's den and stop just before the Hightree, pacing around so we don't look foolish just in case a meeting doesn't actually happen. But sure enough, Branchstar springs onto a low branch of the Hightree and opens his mouth to issue the formal words: "Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather around the Hightree!"

"They were talking about food," says Lilacpaw to Ashpaw, who's joined us. "That, and starving."

He swishes his gray-furred tail. "Maybe they need food?" he offers.

"Perhaps," I say. I recall the way the CreekClan cats had fought for the LeafClan prey—as if their very lives depended on it.

Maybe they do.

"Hey, did you see Rainfall and that CreekClan apprentice fighting for the thrush?" I say to Lilacpaw, the memory only amusing me a little now that my previous thought is firmly cemented in my mind. I wonder what Branchstar will announce.

She gives a small purr. "Yep," she confirms. "It was hilarious. But the look on the apprentice's face afterward…"

I nod. "Makes me wonder just how much that was worth to the tom."

"Oh yes, rub it in my face," Ashpaw complains, shoving his face between Lilacpaw's and mine. "I wanted to go to that battle!"

"It was just a border fight," I say, poking him with my paw playfully. "Or, a fresh-kill fight, I guess."

"Still," he says, eyes widening. "Tell me about it! I told you about the Gathering! It's only fair!"

"Later, Ashkit," Lilacpaw teases. "Branchstar's about to speak."

Indeed, the brown-pelted tom is now settling down on his branch and surveying the cats before him. Conversations fade away as it becomes clear he's waiting for everyone to be quiet.

"Cats of LeafClan," Branchstar begins a few seconds later, "Ripplestar has come to me with a request. The leafbare has been hard for the CreekClan members, and their leader has asked me to let her warriors hunt on our territory."

Murmurs rise up.

"I said yes."

"Branchstar, I respect your experience as a leader, but I'm afraid I must disagree," says Rainfall. "Tell me, is there a limit on when and where they can hunt? If it's too big, or if there are no limits, we will go hungry, too. And, let me just say that I think it's rather ridiculous for CreekClan cats to try to eat squirrels."

"Well, let me just say that I've eaten squirrels that are bigger than you," says Ripplestar, twitching her tail in an angry manner.

"Oh, really?" says Rainfall. "What a marvelous feat!" I agree with that—Rainfall isn't small for her age. In fact, she's average. That must be a pretty large squirrel. "And tell me, where did you happen to find those squirrels?"

"CreekClan thanks you for your aid in this harsh time," Marshpelt hastily meows, nudging her fuming leader to the side as discreetly as one can do on a branch with three other cats, in front of an audience made up of many more. "We will remember your gracious deed. We will now leave so that your leader may inform you more thoroughly."

Branchstar is nodding to himself with a satisfied gleam in his eyes—I think that's self-given congratulation—and I realize why he agreed to the request. Clever. He signals Ravenwing and Thunderflash, and within a few heartbeats, Ripplestar and Marshpelt are being guided through the bramble entrance.

The entire camp silently watches them go, and then questions break out.

"So, about the limits…," Rainfall starts to say.

"I don't like the sound of this," Ivyfur frets.

"Just let them starve!" offers Treefall.

At moments like this, it's safe to say that I'm glad I'm not a leader.

"Hey! Hey, Tigerpaw!"

He turns at the sound of my voice and stops walking.

"Well?" I say when I catch up to him.

Tigerpaw sighs, turning his gaze to the ground. "Well, what?"

"Stop stalling."

He lets out a little chuff of amusement, and then grows serious. "All right, I'll tell you. It's not that I don't think you can't fight…it just that it looked as if you were losing."

"Well, next time, wait a little while," I snap, affronted that he thought I was losing the fight. My ears warm at the notion. Did I seriously seem like that on the battlefield? "Then go see if someone needs help."

He bows his head respectfully. "Yes, my leader. I will."

I can't help smiling. "All right, then."

He gives me a quick lick before turning and striding off. But as I watch him go, I can't shake the feeling that something's off. Threads are becoming undone, emotions are being buried underground. And unless someone speaks up, our relationship will crumble.

But who will make the first move?

Yeah... Was that too dramatic or something? I feel like I didn't write it right. And ooh, what will come of this agreement with CreekClan? Review. :)

~Ponyiowa