Ohmygosh, okay, FINALLY. What has it been, like a month? Two months since the last chapter? I am SO sorry, of course. Life just gets busy sometimes :P. I'll try to make this one especially long to make up for it.

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It took things a while to return to normal, and so much happened in the void space between that Icefang's memories of leaf-fall seemed like blurred recollections of kithood fantasies. After the day that Cinderstar had lost his second-to-last life in a freak accident during the battle with RiverClan, ThunderClan had sunken into a state of near-paralysis. The cold coupled with scarce prey and sparse shelter after the Greenleaf fire created a blanket of despair that was wrapped tightly around the camp.

Cinderstar, who seemed to have lost every tiny shred of the great warrior he had once been, descended into depression. He spent most of every day curled deep in his den, not even looking up when cats tried to coax him out. Sometimes Icefang wondered exactly what went on his head. She knew that Cinderstar was old, and that he had seen some terrible things in his life, but she wondered if it was these black events that he dwelled upon in the darkness of his den.

Stonepelt had told her that Cinderstar's mate had had three litters of kits before Stonepelt himself was born, without any brothers or sisters. The first litter had not survived leafbare. The second had consisted of only two kits, killed before they received their warrior names. The leader's third litter was Brightkit, a white tom who had been born deaf, and died before becoming an apprentice. Stonepelt had mentioned that it had been hard to grow up with Cinderstar as his father, not only because he was the leader, but because he was always watching Stonepelt out of the corner of his eye, protecting him as if he couldn't protect himself.

A badger had killed Cinderstar's mate, who was reportedly one of the most beautiful she-cats of the Clans, and a skilled warrior. She had been attempting to protect the nursery when the creature had come into the camp. Though her death was brave, and her fighting skills became legend, Cinderstar had lost a part of his soul when she died, leaving his only son, Stonepelt, as his sole family.

The leader had been through countless vicious battles in his long lifetime, even killed rogues or other warriors who refused to back down. He had fought off weasels, foxes and eagles, been chased by dogs and angry Twolegs, and almost drowned in the gorge during a leafbare flood. Icefang listened to endless stories about his time as a warrior, deputy, and new leader. No matter how wonderful the ThunderClan elders made him out to be, Icefang still had a hard time believing that it was StarClan's wish that Cinderstar remained in command.

At the moment, the white she-cat was sitting in the shelter of a fern bush that had grown anew after the fire. Its long furling leaves were still a little stunted, but they provided some cover from the biting wind of leafbare. Beside her, Eaglepaw and Stonepelt were crouched, both of them also trying to get underneath the shade of the fern. Their eyes were turned up to the sky, which had turned a sickly gray color.

"Rain," Eaglepaw pronounced matter-of-factly, blinking at the weak sun streaming through the clouds.

"Snow," Stonepelt disagreed. Both she-cats turned to stare at him in horror.

"Snow?" Icefang hissed miserably. She couldn't think of anything that would make her day worse, except maybe Cinderstar experiencing a sudden return to vitality.

"Oh. That's right, neither of you have seen snow before have you?" Stonepelt meowed. He inched a little bit farther away from the fern to get a better look at the sky. "It's rain, except frozen. You've heard of it of course. I like it. It's beautiful," he mewed, smiling slightly. Eaglepaw rolled her eyes and darted out from under the bush. Unwilling to be left with Stonepelt, Icefang streaked after her.

"I don't know how you put up with him," Eaglepaw meowed as they hurried towards the warriors' den. With so few warriors these days, Icefang tried to sneak her best friend into the cozier den whenever possible. Eaglepaw liked the feeling of being a warrior, and Icefang liked the feeling of breaking the rules.

"He's not so bad," Icefang mewed, looking over her shoulder at the gray tabby warrior before sliding into the warmth of her den.

"He's always chatting about the scenery," scoffed the golden tabby apprentice, stalking to the back of the den. Tansyleaf and Ashfoot were both asleep, curled back to back in their shared nest. Since there was no around to tell them to do anything, most of the warriors had taken to stealing lengthy afternoon naps, especially in the cold weather. "Like I care if snow is beautiful. It's cold and wet, and that's all I need to know," Eaglepaw hissed, a shudder making her pelt glimmer in the dark.

Icefang snorted as she made her way to her mossy nest. "I usually tune it out. He's very good company sometimes. He knows things most other warriors aren't party to."

Eaglepaw let out a sly purr as she settled into a makeshift circle of feathers that she used as a sleeping place whenever she came into the warriors' den. "I guess that could have its uses," she murmured.

Icefang purred in response, resting her nose on her paws. She didn't feel tired at all, in fact she was itching to get some exercise, but she didn't want to go out in the cold, especially if it was about to snow for the first time that year. All the elders said that it should have started snowing moons ago, at the beginning of leafbare, but Icefang would be happy if it didn't snow at all.

"When are the ceremonies supposed to start?" she questioned after a moment, feeling that Eaglepaw was still awake. She heard the she-cat lift her head.

"Sometime before moonrise I think," she replied quietly, smothering a yawn. "Aren't you tired?"

"No," Icefang mewed, laying back down. She stared into the darkness for a while, letting her eyes adjust to the shadows, until she could hear the measured breathes that told her Eaglepaw had fallen asleep. Quietly, careful not to wake any of the other sleeping warriors, Icefang rose again from her nest and padded out of the den. It was only late afternoon, even though the rest of the warriors were acting like it was the end of the day. No one was in camp except for Stonepelt, who was still sitting under the fern, his eyes closed as if deep in thought. Icefang didn't want to be caught up in one of his heartfelt conversations about StarClan or the warrior code.

Acting like she didn't see him, the she-cat padded over to the fresh kill pile, her steps measured and slow. She was pacing herself, counting the rhythm in her head. She could feel the urge to take her built up anger out on something, and she didn't want to release it just yet. I have plans, she told herself, and they don't include you losing control now.

The fresh kill pile was sorrowfully small. One rotting sparrow lay in the dirt, it's wings splayed, accompanied by three or four scrappy mice that looked to be from at least this morning if not yesterday. It wasn't just that prey was hard to find this leafbare, especially with the fire. As Icefang had predicted, Brightpool was doing a brilliant job of not being deputy. Nothing got done with any efficiency any more, and there was no around who cared enough to fix it. Except for Icefang herself, of course, but she was in the process of working that problem out.

Feeling her stomach revolt at the prospect of swallowing the stale mice, the she-cat veered away from the fresh kill pile and made her through camp to the bramble tunnel. She knew that Brightpool was with Shortwhisker, getting treatment for a bruised paw. She had apparently stepped on a rock this morning while patrolling the border. Seeing as how it was the sixth or seventh rock she had stepped this moon, Icefang had long since recognized the transparency of her story. She spent almost as much time in Shortwhisker's den, faking injuries and illnesses, as she did sleeping off the effects of the "poppy seeds" that he administered for her "pain".

Sparrowpaw and Yellowpaw were out collecting herbs. Probably more poppy seeds, since Brightpool needed them so often. The two she-cats had become fast friends after Icefang had snatched away Yellowpaw's sister. Icefang still visited Sparrowpaw on occasion, but by this time she trusted the medicine cat apprentice to come to her if she had any dreams, before she told them to anyone else.

Cinderstar was in his den of course, thinking about StarClan knew what, or maybe just sleeping off his long years of suffering. The elders, or what was left of them, were huddled in their own dens, escaping the cold. Whitefoot and Robinwing were presumably scouting the border, at Stonepelt's urging. Icefang didn't quite believe them, but at least it was better than sleeping.

That left only her, alone and hopefully unnoticed. She turned to stare at Stonepelt. His eyes were still closed. That didn't mean he hadn't seen her, but she figured it was as good an indication as any that her departure would remain a secret. Stealthily, the she-cat ran the rest of the way out of camp.

She spent the evening hunting. Icefang had been her own very strict teacher for a while now, and she had honed her hunting skills to a satisfactory level. By watching Stonepelt and the other senior warriors, and even observing wild predators like foxes and weasels, she had picked up on many techniques that she hadn't been taught as an apprentice. Her naturally furtive personality didn't hurt either as she stalked her prey with hawk-like precision. She almost never foiled a catch. Still, her skills didn't help her much unless there was any prey about.

By the time the sun was just about disappear beneath the hills in the distance, Icefang returned to camp, carrying three fairly good sized mice and a smaller thrush. Stonepelt greeted her at the entrance.

"When I didn't see you in the warrior's den I wondered where you'd gone," he meowed to her as she padded into the center of the camp.

Icefang deposited her load on the fresh kill pile with a meaningful sigh.

"Good catch," commented the older warrior, sniffing at the mice. "May I?"

Icefang nodded tiredly, choosing a mouse for herself while Stonepelt gratefully picked up the thrush. They ate in silence, the heaviness in the air weighing on both their shoulders. It hadn't started to snow, but the clouds above had darkened until the sky was nearly black, and it wasn't even nighttime yet.

One by one, the rest of ThunderClan spilled out of the cracks. Eaglepaw, Tansyleaf and Ashfoot trudged out of the warriors' den. Eaglepaw took one of Icefang's mice after the white she-cat gave her a gracious nod.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, a wraith-like form traipsed up to the top of the Highrock. Cinderstar's body was skeletal-looking, and his muzzle had turned bright silver in what seemed like a matter of days. His eyes, once bright and full of intelligence, had become like deep pits in his face, from which no light shined. His tail neither hung straight at his flanks, between his legs nor held high above his head. He looked defeated, dead.

Brightpool followed him to the top of the rock and looked down on the Clan. She, on the other hand, looked like she was enjoying a very healthy Greenleaf. Her pelt was sleek and glossy, her stomach plump, her tail waving happily over her head. Brightpool was not shouldered with worries like the rest of ThunderClan.

"Today is a happy day for the Clan!" she cried out. Her voice was met by silence. No one else seemed to share her cheer. "Today, we are blessed to welcome three new apprentices to our ranks. Will Specklefoot's kits please step forward?"

Look at her, Icefang spat, acting like she owns the place. She's not even leader and she thinks she can take charge of the ceremony like a fat queen.

Specklefoot, who herself seemed torn between excitement for her kits and despair for her Clan, led the three young cats toward the base of the Highrock. There were two she-cats and one tom: Redkit, Dapplekit and Owlkit.

"Redkit, are you ready to become an apprentice of ThunderClan, to do your duty to the best of your abilities and obey your mentor?" Brightpool questioned of the tiny she-cat with the stunning pelt. She's can't even get the ceremony right, Icefang hissed angrily.

"Yes, Brightpool," mewed Redkit. Her reply was strong and firm, but she looked confused as to whether she should be addressing her deputy or her leader.

"Icefang! You will be mentor to Redkit. This is your first apprentice, and ThunderClan hopes that you will pass down all you have learned from Stonepelt to this young cat. From this moment on, Redkit, you will be known as Redpaw."

With a sudden electric thrill of triumph, Icefang leapt to her feet and bounded forward to greet Redkit. They touched noses, and Icefang met the she-cat's bright gaze with a wild stare of her own. Yes! She cried inwardly, her heart beating like a rabbit's. Even though Brightpool had further botched the tradition by not warning her beforehand, she didn't seem to care. She was too thrilled to have Redpaw as her apprentice. Perfect Redpaw, who she knew would grow up to be just like herself.

Icefang hardly heard the rest of the ceremony. Dapplekit was apprenticed to Robinwing, and she remembered cheering for her ex-friend anyway. Owlkit was apprenticed to Stonepelt, which she also cheered because it would take his concentration off of her for a while. But Icefang was focused the entire time on Redpaw's face, watching her every twitch, wishing she could just snatch the she-kit away right now and go explain all of her plans for the future. Icefang, Eaglepaw and Redpaw. The perfect team.

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