This next chapter was originally going to focus on Maplepaw too, but I decided against it because it didn't really flow right to have that and the next event happen right after one another like that. Plus, I needed this to happen.

And of course I'll keep writing! I love it just about as much as I love video games, drawing, living and breathing!

Now, as much as I don't support or condone (in any way, shape, or form) the way Crowfeather treated Breezepelt (or Nightcloud. Especially Nightcloud; but that's not the subject right now), I don't support or condone what Breezepelt did because of it. Breezepelt became a real ass, and I can safely say he is up to nothing good at all - and he's obviously not the only one.

Chapter 12

"And then Blackstar and Leopardstar led RiverClan and ShadowClan to Fourtrees," Snaketail rambled. "There we met with ThunderClan and WindClan to fight BloodClan."

Patchkit gasped. "What happened next?" he demanded.

"Yeah!" Fuzzykit exclaimed. "Did you beat 'em?"

Snaketail let out a noise of exasperation. "Kits!" he grumbled. "Never letting me finish a story without barging in, asking questions!" Hawkpaw imagined the elder was twitching his whiskers. "You were like that too, Hawkpaw. Remember when you liked listening to our stories?"

Hawkpaw rolled his eyes. Sure, he had indulged in elders' stories, same as any kit – but it hadn't been only Snaketail then. Tallpoppy, an older queen, had been there too. She had been less grumpy than Snaketail, and she had made the stories seem more exciting – of course, anything about great battles sounded exciting to a kit, regardless of who it was told by. But when Tallpoppy went to StarClan after seasons of age, Hawkpaw had found the stories less and less enjoyable.

Paws busy rolling up moss – he was good at it by now – Hawkpaw replied, "Yeah… but I've heard all those stories."

"Well don't spoil it for the kits!" Snaketail snapped. "That's no fun!"

Hawkpaw rolled his eyes again. Tawnypelt had assigned him to clean the elder's den when they had returned from meeting the ThunderClan patrol. She had acknowledged that what he had done was an accident, but he still needed a punishment – and this was it.

Jeez… why did I have to be such a frog-brain? Hawkpaw thought. I could have finished that patrol…

"Blackstar didn't lead the battle?" Fuzzykit complained. The disappointment in her voice was audible. "You're lying!"

"He was Blackfoot then," Snaketail explained. "And he and Leopardstar didn't feel good about leading anything after Tigerstar died. Tallstar deferred to Firestar, too; ThunderClan's new leader."

"Of course they did," grumbled Mottlekit. "WindClan has always been ThunderClan's ally…"

"That's not been the case as of recently," Snaketail countered. "When Onestar became leader of WindClan, they finally grew a backbone."

The elder huffed. "Now, then… if you kits will stop interrupting me, I'll continue my story." Snaketail took a breath. "So Firestar led us against BloodClan. Many warriors were lost that day – good, noble cats from all Clans. The fighting seemed like it was going to go on forever, until Firestar slew Scourge, the leader of BloodClan, and they fled."

"This story sounds like it's about ThunderClan," Fuzzykit groaned. "Can't we have a story about us?"

"Yeah," agreed Patchkit. "ThunderClan does everything."

"True," Snaketail agreed. "They do stick their noses in where it doesn't belong most of the time. But that was still an important story, despite ThunderClan being the focus – that was the first time in living memory all four Clans worked together to drive out a threat as big as BloodClan. It wasn't the first time all four Clans would work together, either."

Hawkpaw rolled in a ball of fresh moss from outside and began spreading it in the den.

"Tell us another one!" demanded Fuzzykit. "Something about ShadowClan!"

"Yeah, yeah!" agreed Mottlekit and Patchkit.

Snaketail rolled his eyes as he moved to accommodate Hawkpaw. The apprentice spread moss on the ground where the old tom had been laying, making sure it was thick and soft. He fluffed it into a nest.

"It had better be dry!" Snaketail complained. The old tom lumbered over to the nest and began circling.

"It is," Hawkpaw promised.

Snaketail grunted. "A bit stiff, but doable," he grumbled.

Hawkpaw flicked an ear crossly. Were elders ever satisfied?

Snaketail began telling another story as Hawkpaw spread the rest of the moss across the den. It was an empty den for sure, but there were plenty of ShadowClan warriors who were beginning to feel age gnawing at their bones. Soon enough the elder's den would be full again.

Hopefully I'm a warrior by then, Hawkpaw thought. So I don't have to clean it.

Finished, Hawkpaw dusted his paws off and rolled the dirty bedding out of the den. He followed them and stretched when he left the den, grateful to smell fresher air. Hunkering down in the elders' den always made his back ache.

He began rolling the dirty moss towards the dirtplace, tucked away in an isolated corner of the camp. When that was done, he wanted nothing more than to roll around in the nearest stream – but when he padded out of the dirtplace, he found that the Clan had gathered beneath the moonlight.

Hawkpaw padded up to the other apprentices, who were looking at the center of the camp with wide, sad eyes.

"What's going on?" Hawkpaw asked, looking at Softpaw.

She didn't reply. Hawkpaw followed her gaze, and the gazes of all the other mourning warriors, and his heart sank.

Littlecloud was dead.

The small tabby tom lay in the clearing, his limbs folded gently and his pelt smelling of lavender. Moonlight touched his pelt, gentle and friendly. Rowanstar and Tawnypelt sat beside him, tails twined together in grief, with Leafpool and Mistpaw flanking them on either side. Mistpaw's eyes were wide, choked with sadness.

"He died peacefully," Leafpool promised. "In his sleep, StarClan claimed him."

"Oh Littlecloud," Tawnypelt murmured. "ShadowClan will not be the same without you…"

"He was the medicine cat for such a long time," Rowanstar added. "Blackstar trusted every word he said. He has seen and done so much… his memory will live on in our Clan forever."

"Runningnose loved him," Ratscar put in. "I remember him saying that he couldn't have asked for a better, more attentive apprentice than Littlecloud."

"He was gentle with patients and knew more herbs than there are stars in the sky," Leafpool finished. "StarClan will welcome him with open arms and he will be among his oldest friends."

Hawkpaw's heart tightened. Littlecloud was gone, and suddenly memories began flashing through him. Memories of Littlecloud treating him when he was ill; of Hawkpaw fetching him from his den when Applefur began kitting; of Hawkpaw accidentally eating a poppy seed and waking up in his den, being gently cared for… Littlecloud never once looked at him with scorn because he hadn't been born in ShadowClan. When Hawkpaw, as a young kit, asked why Littlecloud didn't act that way, the old tabby had replied, "There are worse things to be than not-Clanborn, little Hawkkit. As much as we don't like cats without Clan blood, some of those warriors would be shocked to learn how many of them aren't purely Clanborn, either. When they tease you, remember that once a kittypet, born and bred, became one of the greatest leaders the four Clans had ever known."

I'll miss you, Hawkpaw thought. Find your friends in StarClan, Littlecloud. You've earned this rest.

"We will hold vigil tonight," Rowanstar announced, "and then bury him at sunrise."

Rowanstar settled down, Tawnypelt beside him. The ShadowClan leader pushed his nose into the old medicine cat's fur, his eyes closed with concentration, as if he were trying to see Littlecloud again. Leafpool, Tawnypelt, Mistpaw, and the other cats who knew Littlecloud better than most settled around him in a similar way. Other cats pushed their nose into his fur, groomed his ears and tail, and murmured good-byes.

Hawkpaw padded up to the body. It was finally his turn. Littlecloud looked so peaceful, his eyes shut and his expression painless. Hawkpaw licked the tom between the ears and murmured, "Thank you, for everything."

He padded back to the apprentice's den. The others were there, sharing tongues in relative silence inside the den. When Hawkpaw clambered in, Softpaw was near him and she began to groom his ears.

"You… had a bit of moss here," she explained.

Hawkpaw didn't question her.

"So, who will be our new medicine cat?" Milkpaw asked, pressing near Sparrowpaw. "Mistpaw hasn't completed her training!"

"Leafpool might have to take his place until her training is finished," Nightpaw pointed out. "If Rowanstar asks her, she can't really say no."

"I don't know about you, but I don't like the idea that Leafpool will be our medicine cat," Sparrowpaw growled. "She betrayed her Clan and ran off with a WindClan cat to have his kits! She broke the medicine cat code and lied about it for seasons. She doesn't deserve the position."

"She might not deserve it," Hawkpaw grunted, "but we need a medicine cat. I'd rather have Leafpool than no one."

Sparrowpaw curled his lip. "You would say that," he growled.

Hawkpaw bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Sparrowpaw lashed his tail. "I mean that of course you would have sympathy for her. You're not Clanborn – loyalty to the warrior code is something only Clanborn cats can understand," he sneered.

Hawkpaw shifted in his nest, sitting up. He felt anger boiling up inside of him, and he slid out his claws.

Softpaw touched her nose to his shoulder and murmured, "Hawkpaw, don't… he's just egging you on…"

Hawkpaw turned away and left the den. Softpaw was right – it would do no good to attack Sparrowpaw, even if he was wrong. He padded into the clearing and sat down, curling his tail around his paws. He was exhausted from the training, the patrol, and cleaning out the dens. He wanted to sleep, but he wouldn't go back into the den while Sparrowpaw was still there, awake and spouting garbage.

"Something's upset you," mewed Tigerheart. "I can tell by the way your neck fur's bristling."

Hawkpaw sighed, lowering his fur. "Sparrowpaw's being a jerk," he growled. Tigerheart sat beside him, tail wrapping around his paws.

"Ignore him," Tigerheart advised. "It's hard to earn the respect of the Clan. I'm half-ThunderClan, and my name is Tigerheart. How hard do you think it was for me?"

Hawkpaw blinked. "OK, I'll give you that," he agreed. He scuffed a paw. "I'm not mad about being not-Clanborn, Tigerheart. I just wish other cats would just stop pestering me about it."

"Well, they won't," Tigerheart told him frankly. "It's part of who you are, and that won't be going away any time soon. Work hard, and you'll earn their respect one day. Anyway, I hear you were cleaning dens?"

Hawkpaw nodded.

"Sorry," Tigerheart sighed. "I was going to tell Tawnypelt to go easy on you since it was just a mistake, but you two left before I could say anything. I suppose den-duty is easy enough, but every cat makes a mistake like that, especially when ThunderClan-scent is so familiar to us."

Hawkpaw mumbled, "It's OK."

He took a deep breath, and then asked, "There's no place for us to make a different camp, is there?"

Tigerheart's whiskers twitched. "No," he replied. He didn't bother lying about it.

"So there's going to be a fight?" Hawkpaw asked.

"Possibly," Tigerheart answered. "Rowanstar is going to try and negotiate things as peacefully as possible… but if ThunderClan doesn't want to give up that territory to us, we'll have to fight for it. He's going to take a patrol there tomorrow and then ask for an answer by the next Gathering. He figures it's the best way to get a response without immediately shedding blood."

Hawkpaw glanced at the body of Littlecloud. Shedding blood when their medicine cat was dead would not be a good idea.

"I was wondering if you'd like to tag along on that patrol," Tigerheart asked.

"Would I!" Hawkpaw gasped. "Of course I'd like to go!"

Tigerheart purred. "Then you'd better get some rest. We're leaving by sunhigh, and you've had quite a long day."

Hawkpaw purred, and he couldn't resist putting a little spring in his step as he padded into the den again. Sparrowpaw was asleep, and Milkpaw and Nightpaw were too. Softpaw was just settling down, and her eyes were closed as soon as Hawkpaw got into his nest.

Littlecloud's death was a sad thing, yes, and so was being unable to find a new camp for the Clan – but Hawkpaw was finally beginning to see things looking up for him. As he settled down for his rest, he breathed, "Thank you, Tigerheart…"