Happy New Year's Eve! Bet you didn't think I'd update this fast! XD This chapter is not going to be very joyful, I'm afraid. Enjoy, and I wish you a happy holiday. :) Oh, and for those of you who are wondering when I'll update EBN (Everything but Nothing), I will. Soon. I just have to finish the chapter, which doesn't seem to want to be finished. e.e

Replies to anonymous reviews:

A mistaken mayan: I love your name. No joke. The world didn't end, lol. :3 You should totally make an account with that as your pen name. As for what you said in your review: I'm guessing the "poor apprentice" you speak of is Tigerpaw? You kind of didn't finish your first sentence, so I'm not sure what you liked, but I'm glad you liked something. X3

:D: No problem, I like constructive criticism, which is what you're trying to give me, right? Yeah, I'm trying to. And many times I find myself stretching out a chapter when I shouldn't be, so give me a good kick in the behind if that happens! D; This chapter has a bit of TigerXAmber interaction, as you'll soon find out, but I don't think I did it very well. :/

Chapter 19: Worry

"Wow."

The word escapes my mouth along with a small puff of silver air as I look around the Gathering clearing.

Cats crowd every bit of land. The smells are overwhelming. Fishy and strange, musky and odd, they swirl to form the mixed scent that assaults my nose as soon as I step into the throng of cats. A few CreekClan warriors nod to us as we pass.

"Now, behave," Brightsky tells the other apprentices and me as we settle down in front of the large gray rock. The Speechstone, I remember it's called.

"Yes, Brightsky," I say, even while continuing to explore the sights before me with curious, wide eyes. I see Splashfoot, the she-cat I fought, and she smiles at me; we've become friendlier since the border skirmish. I want to go over and talk to her, but I don't think Brightsky will let me, so I stay put. Graypaw, Cloudpaw, Tigerpaw, and Lilacpaw give their agreement in various forms of assent. Branchstar decided that the apprentices who couldn't go last time could go this time, seeing as we hadn't done anything bad. Lilacpaw was the best behaved apprentice this moon, so she was chosen, too.

"It's time to begin," murmurs Lilacpaw from behind. I twist around to give her a confused glance, and she gestures at the full moon, now in all its glory. The last wisp of cloud floats away in the dark night sky.

"I, Ripplestar of CreekClan," says the white she-cat, "am pleased to say that life for CreekClan is going well. There was a brief bout of hunger, but Branchstar has allowed us to hunt on his territory for a couple moons, or until the ice lessens on the creek."

"A brief bout?" says Tigerpaw quietly to the right of me. "They were so hungry—or so stupid—that they were blatantly stealing prey on our territory!"

I flick him on the shoulder with my tail. "Don't worry; we'll get our pay for that sometime or later."

He grumbles but falls quiet.

"We have no new warriors or apprentices," Ripplestar finishes. Then she takes a step back and looks to Branchstar, who's sitting in the middle.

He steps forward and says, "LeafClan had some trouble earlier with CreekClan trespassers on our territory, but we came to an agreement. As Ripplestar said, her cats will hunt on LeafClan territory for two moons or until the ice lessens on their creek. We also have no new warriors or apprentices since the last Gathering. However, Swallowpaw has completed her medicine cat training and will take over the position of LeafClan medicine cat when Whispersong steps down. Her new name is Swallowpelt."

"Swallowpelt! Swallowpelt! Swallowpelt!"

Branchstar moves back to his original place and dips his head at Harestar, a scrawny gray tom who seems much too nervous and twitchy to be up there, let alone be a leader.

"StoneClan is doing well, even in leafbare," Harestar begins, and I can't help but think that a message along the lines of We are strong is hidden in that sentence. Tigerpaw shifts next to me, narrowing his eyes at the StoneClan leader. "Prey is scarce, as it always is at this time, but we are not starving. We have two new apprentices: Mothpaw and Hollypaw." He pauses for a moment to allow cheers, but there aren't many; I myself only give a few half-hearted calls before dropping silent. With a brief frown, he resumes his speech.

"We have no new warriors, either, but Streampaw, Minnowpaw, and Lionpaw are almost done with their training and will be on the battlefield as full warriors by next moon." I can't help but hear a veiled threat in his words. Branchstar is shifting his paws and giving the other tom leader a coldly polite look, while Ripplestar is nodding to herself, an almost pleased expression on her face. "That is all," Harestar says in a rather nervous tone, and steps back.

"All right, then," Branchstar says. "Unless anyone has something to announce, I think we are done for this Gathering."

Harestar now glances up from where he's been staring at his paws. "Uh, yes. I just remembered I had something else to say."

"And what is it, Harestar?"

The skinny gray tom clears his throat and holds his head high, staring at the LeafClan leader. "I was just wondering why you have so many apprentices right now. I noticed four new ones today. Eight apprentices, in such different colored pelts! Eight apprentices, in leafbare. How 're quite lucky." But the trembling in his voice tells me that he's not fully prepared of the consequences of saying such a drastic thing. Indeed, as Branchstar turns his head, his fur sticking up, looking furious, the StoneClan leader seems to shrink back on his seat on the great Speechstone.

"Usually Ripplestar would be making such statements," says Brightsky quietly. I turn my head to see my foster mother sitting next to me, tail wrapped tightly around her paws.

"I've got it," says another voice, and I crane my neck to see Pounceclaw. The black-and-white tom is staring at the three leaders, his expression grim. "Ripplestar must have bribed Harestar to say that. Whether it's a small piece of CreekClan territory or a promise to come to their aid sometime in the future, she must think that's worth less than turning LeafClan and StoneClan against each other. She obviously would have said it herself, but with Branchstar letting her cats hunt on our territory, she had to find another way to get it out in a public manner that would not point immediately to her."

I blink, surprised at the extent of Pounceclaw's analysis and the hidden web of politics that he says is going around here. Past Brightsky's shoulder, I peer at Ashpaw's mentor with new eyes. There's more to a cat than just his reputation, I think. There are still layers, waiting to be uncovered.

"Are you suggesting that LeafClan is stealing kits?" asks Branchstar venomously.

"Oh, no," says Harestar, although the nervous twitching of his tail implies otherwise. "Of course not, I was just, ahem, stating my wonder at the number of apprentices you have in such a cold, snowy time like this. You would have thought at least one would have been eaten by now."

"My apprentices are fairly smart for their age," Branchstar replies frostily, "which is more than you can say for your scatterbrained apprentices."

"I can't believe it!" whispers Graypaw, who's sitting right behind me, next to my sister, who's seated directly behind Brightsky. "Our first Gathering, and the leaders are already at each other's throats! Ashpaw is going to be so jealous."

I nudge him. "Hey, this is serious, you know. This could turn into a long war."

"Who put thorns in your nest today?" he mutters, but he seems to understand and quiets down.

"I must say that I agree with Harestar," puts in Ripplestar suddenly, as if on cue. As if planned before, for her voice is smooth and steady, with none of the tremors in the StoneClan leader's words—tremors that might come from the skinny tom's personality, or a failure to practice. Actually, that just might be, I think, recalling what Pounceclaw said.

"LeafClan's apprentices come from LeafClan," says Branchstar, sweeping an angry gaze across the gathered cats. "We have no former rogues in our Clan. There are no loners that have joined us, and none ever did before, either. Every single cat in my Clan has pure LeafClan blood running through their veins. That is a claim the other two Clans cannot make. When's the last time you saw your father, Harestar? Didn't I see him lounging in Twolegplace one afternoon?"

The StoneClan leader looks indignant. "That's a serious accusation to make, Branchstar."

"Not as serious as the one you just made, Harestar. And it's not an accusation. I know for a fact that you're half kittypet."

"Leaders, leaders," purrs Ripplestar, sounding a bit anxious. "Tonight we are supposed to talk in peace. I do think I see some clouds there. Shall we end the Gathering?"

"Careful there, Ripplestar," says Branchstar. "I know that you're not innocent in this. And let me say that if your cats start to go hungry again, you might find yourself having even less apprentices than LeafClan."

It's another veiled threat, I realize. He's telling her that he might not let the CreekClan cats hunt on our territory anymore if she continues to stir up trouble. My theory is confirmed when the black-striped she-cat stiffens and gives one short, curt nod. I'm ridiculously happy, as if I've just won a game of moss-ball, when I remember that, like I told Graypaw, this is not something to be entertained by. What's happening between Ripplestar, Branchstar, and Harestar is a dangerous exchange, not something to laugh at.

The three leaders are now silent, and in their hush, murmurs start to rise up from the cats below. Pounceclaw is muttering to himself, glaring at the ground. Far off to my right, Rainfall is talking to Ivyfur in a hushed voice. Any anger between them that stems from Ivyfur's apprentice showering snow on Rainfall is not seen in their conversation.

I start to feel a touch of unease in my stomach. Does anyone believe Harestar? Surely not. There have never been any rumors of love between a LeafClan cat and a non-LeafClan member. Yuck. And Brightsky never told me if any loners or rogues joined our Clan. But then, I'm only seven moons old. Who would take the time to tell me anything like that?

Right when voices start to rise and claws are being unsheathed, a cat yowls, "Look! The moon! It's being covered by clouds!"

I glance up just in time to see the bright moon vanish from sight.

"This Gathering is now adjourned," pronounces Branchstar from his perch on the Speechstone, and then leaps off to join Falconflight on ground level.

Obediently, I follow the LeafClan leader back to our camp, but not before sneaking one last peek at the scene we're leaving behind. Harestar, the scrawny StoneClan leader, is talking with an orange she-cat at the bottom of the large gray boulder—his deputy, I guess. He looks around nervously every few seconds, as if the tête-à-tête he's holding is not meant to be heard by other ears. The StoneClan cats wander around several fox-lengths away, waiting for their leader to head them on the way back to their camp.

Meanwhile, the black-and-white she-cat, Ripplestar, has not yet left the Speechstone. She sits upon the huge rock, head held high. She studies the leaving cats with a satisfied air about her.

I do not like her, I decide. And if I ever meet her in battle, I will be sure to leave several claw marks in her pelt.

The next morning, I wake up on my own. No dark brown tom yanks at my ear, yelling me to wake up. The cat that would do that is sleeping soundly a few kittensteps away, his tail draped over his nose. My dreams were peaceful. I am pretty sure I caught a hundred mice in one of them. But then, that's why they're dreams.

I pad outside to revel in the cold, clear morning air before Falconflight calls me over for more training. The snow crunches under my feet, reminding me once again that it's leafbare. I frown, recalling Harestar's words from last night.

"I was just wondering why you have so many apprentices right now. I noticed four new ones today. Eight apprentices, in such different colored pelts! Eight apprentices, in leafbare. How unusual. You're quite lucky."

I know it's not true. He was just trying to cause trouble, and distrust. But he's right about one thing: it is unusual. We have been lucky that none of us have died yet—excepting Oakpelt. I glance over to the fresh-kill pile. The amount of prey in it has been dwindling, and now it's shrunken even more because of the CreekClan cats hunting on our territory. My stomach growls, but I don't move to take anything from the pile.

It's good to have many apprentices in greenleaf, I think, but not in leafbare. Do any of the warriors hate us for being so many in number?

"Hey, what are you thinking about?"

"Hmm?" I respond absently. "Just about what Harestar said. He's right; I don't think there are normally so many apprentices in leafbare. I was talking to Brightsky the other day, and she said that usually there are four or five at any time. And also, she said that the other Clans currently have around three apprentices. Look at the fresh-kill pile; it's so empty. It's good that there are so many apprentices, but the prey is being eaten up quickly and the other Clans might start to think that there are loners and rogues joining."

"Whoa, hold on," Tigerpaw says, moving to stand in front of me. "That was quite a depressed little monologue you just gave there. It's fine. If they think that, then they can just take their suspicions and sit on them."

I laugh. "Well, okay. If you say so, oh great, intelligent Tigerpaw." I squint at him. "You're not saying that to be comforting, are you?"

"No," he says earnestly. "It's going to be all right."

I can't think of anything to say to that, so I just stand there awkwardly, until I realize with a pang of alarm that Tigerpaw is standing quite close to me. I lift my gaze from where I've been staring at the snow-covered ground up to his face—just a quick glance, to see what he's been doing while I've been fumbling for some words to say.

It turns out that he's been looking right at me.

I swallow hard.

"Is there something on my face?" I ask, knowing full well there isn't but hoping to get to a comfortable, normal subject.

He starts, shaking his head as if to clear it. "Come again?"

"I said, is there something on my face?"

"Why, yes there is," he answers smoothly. "There's a patch of snow right on your left ear."

I narrow my eyes at him. "There is not."

"You don't believe me?"

"Nope."

"But there is," he says, moving down to scrape a pawful of snow off the ground. I immediately step backward, guessing that whatever he has in mind won't be good for me.

"See?" he says, closing the space between us. "Right…there." And he smacks the snow onto my face.

I sputter, scrambling to get all the snow off, and back away. "I meant there wasn't any before! You cheater."

"Oh, but now there is." He grins. "Who's looking like a drowned mouse now, Amberpaw?"

"You. Didn't you hear Mousetail and Darkpaw? Mice aren't usually ginger. However, your pelt is the same color as a normal one."

He frowns, pretending to work that out in his head—or maybe he's actually confused, I'm not sure—and I laugh and brush past him. "Come on, mousebrain. Let's go see what we're doing today."

It turns out that we apprentices will be separated into two groups: one will abet Whispersong and Swallowpelt; the other will patrol alongside the CreekClan border. At sunhigh, the groups will switch, with the second group helping the medicine cats gather even more herbs, and the first group checking the border LeafClan shares with StoneClan.

Graypaw, Ashpaw, Petalpaw, and I are in the first group. The second group is made up of Cloudpaw, Darkpaw, Tigerpaw, and Lilacpaw, with Ashfeather and Twigclaw leading them. The two warriors will chaperone the first group when we switch.

"Our main objective is to get lots of catmint," says Whispersong. "It's vital to the getting well of a cat who has whitecough or greencough. Luckily, no one's gotten sick yet, but there might be infected cats later, so we're going to try to scrounge up all the catmint we can find."

Ashpaw yawns. Petalpaw seems to be half-asleep. Graypaw scratches his ear. And I fidget, remembering my encounter with Tigerpaw this morning.

The gray medicine cat sighs. "LISTEN UP, APPRENTICES!" she barks, making Petalpaw jump nearly three kittensteps in the air. "We're going to find as much catmint as we can, along with some other herbs! Ask Swallowpelt or me if you are unsure whether it's a helpful plant or just some weed. DO NOT eat the catmint. In fact, don't eat anything. Let's go."

We stare at her for a couple seconds, not moving a paw.

"Come on!" she says, and walks away. Swallowpelt ushers us through the bramble entrance, then joins the group herself, bringing up the back.

In a small glen that Whispersong says should hold many good herbs, we gather plants in silence: if one of us tries to strike up a conversation, the gray she-cat yells at us to be quiet. Swallowpelt gives me an apologetic look whenever I glance over at her, which I guess is her way of saying sorry without violating her mentor's rule.

I recognize several herbs from my stay in the medicine cat's den, and work quickly to pull them out and deposit them in a slowly growing pile. Miraculously, I find a few catmint stalks, which Whispersong nods at grudgingly. Ashpaw works beside me; before long, we've gone around the entire border of the glen. After that, the two of us pick up the useful plants in the center of the small hollow that the others haven't already gotten to.

A movement catches my eye, and I lift my head up from the shriveled marigold I'm tugging at to see Petalpaw walk past me, a few bright red berries in her mouth. A small alarm goes through me, and I watch Tigerpaw's sister reach Whispersong with heavy apprehension in my belly.

"Hey, are any good?" Petalpaw asks through her grip on the small red spheres. She stands there for several moments before Whispersong turns around. Immediately, the medicine cat's eyes go wide.

"DROP THOSE BERRIES RIGHT NOW!"

Petalpaw spits out the berries, laying her ears back in panic. "What?! Is that a 'no'?"

Whispersong takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and opens them again, looking extremely exasperated. "Those were deathberries," she says, her voice low and quiet. "They are very poisonous. One berry can kill a full-grown warrior." She lets those delightful facts sink in, staring at all of us—who have stopped gathering to watch in fearful silence—to make sure we get the full dreadfulness of what she's saying. Then she continues, "Did you eat any? Did you bite down on one?"

"No, I don't think so," says Petalpaw in a small voice.

"Open your mouth. Let me see."

The light brown tabby apprentice obliges, and Whispersong peers in.

"Hmm. I don't see any red stains on your teeth. Do you feel any different?"

"No."

Whispersong straightens. "Close your mouth. Thank StarClan that you didn't actually get a taste. Then, you probably would be dead. Does everyone know what a deathberry looks like, now?"

"Yes," we chorus.

"Where did you find them?" asks the gray she-cat.

"Right here." Petalpaw eagerly makes her way to a small leafy plant.

"Destroy it, and be sure to wash your paws afterward. I think we're done here. Apprentices, do you see any more herbs or deathberries?"

"No," I answer.

"Can't find any," says Ashpaw.

"Then let's head back," says Whispersong. "Swallowpelt, please help me carry these." Swallowpelt takes one tip of the broad leaf, making sure no plants spill off when she lifts up her end. Quietly, we start walking back to camp.

I'm not sure if it was a trick of the leafbare sunlight or real, but as I join Ashpaw, I see the LeafClan medicine cat surreptitiously slip three bright red berries into the bottom of the herbs pile. And then Swallowpelt and Whispersong lift up the leaf, and the deadly little things vanish from sight.

"I see nothing," I report to Ashfeather.

"No StoneClan cats on our territory?" She sounds almost disappointed, and I have to force down a purr of amusement.

"None at all. I don't see any on their territory, either."

"Well, then." The gray tabby turns to yell to the other apprentices, "Do you guys see any trespassers?"

"Only this annoying one who keeps on trying to find StoneClan cats on her land," Graypaw yells back.

Ashfeather frowns in puzzlement, then she realizes what he means. "Oh, be quiet, you troublemaker."

He responds by laughing.

"We patrolled every tail-length of the border," I say. "Can we go back now?"

"Do you think we should go back now?" Ashfeather says to Twigclaw.

"I suppose," he says.

Graypaw snickers.

"Let's go," the tabby she-cat says curtly. "Come on, Graypaw. Stop laughing."

We enter a harried scene. Whispersong is bending over a dark shape on the ground. Cedarheart paces around them nervously, and Brightsky is sitting next to the tabby-striped cat, talking to him in a low tone. I watch as she lifts a paw as if to touch the cat, but draws back.

While Ashfeather goes to tell Falconflight that StoneClan stayed on their side of the border, I pad a bit closer to Whispersong, and when I do, the dark-pelted tom lifts up his head.

"I think I'll have to move Tigerpaw to the medicine cat's den," Whispersong is saying worriedly to his parents.

"Hey, Tigerpaw." I edge closer, eying the gray she-cat in case she takes her attention off Cedarheart and yells at me for being so near to a patient. "What's wrong?"

He smiles up at me. "Hi, Amber—"

But he can't finish the sentence, because he's suddenly breaking out in an attack of harsh coughing.

Gah, I'm so bad at writing very "close" scenes between Tigerpaw and Amberpaw. -.- What did you guys think about it, though?

Yep. Accusations, fighting, deathberries, and whitecough. Part of normal Clan life. Fun stuff, eh? Submit a review to tell me what you thought about this chapter. Especially about what I did to Tigerpaw… Don't kill me, please. *cringes*

~Ponyiowa