CHAPTER TWO

"But I don't want to give it to the elders," complained Pigeonpaw loudly. "I'm the one who caught it!" The grey-and-white tom sulked as he looked down at the starling between his paws. Sootclaw felt his heart wrench; the creature was scrawny, barely enough to feed one cat, let alone two. He sighed, wishing the day could be over already. But the sun had barely reached the top of the sky, and there was still much to do.

"You'll bring it to them," he snapped, wondering if he had ever been as obnoxious as his petulant apprentice. There had been a time not too long ago when Sootclaw hadn't understood the meaning of providing for his Clan. Now it was as essential to him as breathing. He was a loyal warrior, or at least, that was what he told himself. I'm not betraying my Clan. Not really. "Now go."

It won't be enough. Dawnpaw's voice cut into his thoughts. She was right, of course. Prey had been scarce all leafbare, and all of the Clans were suffering. It was freezing in the ShadowClan camp, and Sootclaw watched as his breath misted in the air in front of him.

It will have to do, Sootclaw told her. I'll catch more later.

He felt her smile. Once you're rid of him?

Pigeonpaw had been his apprentice for all of three moons, and Sootclaw was already sick of him. As Eaglestar's son, Pigeonpaw was of the opinion that he was the cream of the crop, the finest ShadowClan cat to ever walk the earth. His siblings were far less obnoxious; Tanpaw was quiet and noble, Nightpaw rugged and adventurous. Why couldn't one of them have been his apprentice instead?

Was I ever like him? Sootclaw asked.

As she laughed, her mind glowed with warmth and the connection between them lit up like a thousand stars. Sootclaw was left momentarily dazed. No matter how many times he felt it, it never ceased to amaze him. Dawnpaw took a deep breath. You were worse.

Don't chide me, he told her as Pigeonpaw padded sullenly into the den. When did you become so old? The past four moons had matured Dawnpaw, though she remained as naive as ever. Sootclaw had hardly felt himself growing older. He had simply sat down one day and realized that he was no longer a kit. Dawnpaw had become more confident in her abilities, less frightened, though he could tell Branchpaw's death still weighed heavily on her mind. She had pushed it into a dusty corner, where it sat in the darkness, hidden, but far from gone.

Branchpaw...Sootclaw had seen the tom ascend to StarClan. The events of that day were still fresh in his mind, from Falconswoop's fall to to the apprentice's death. Everything had happened so fast; it was only now, looking back, that he understood what had come to pass. The grey warrior wished Kitetail were here. His brother always knew what to do. But Kitetail was in ThunderClan now, as he had been for the past for moons. I just found you, Sootclaw remembered thinking. Why did you have to leave when we could have been so much?

Loving his brother had only left him open to heartbreak, but Sootclaw didn't regret it in the least. He was stronger now, and though he was separated from tom by distance, they would always be blood. Still, love was a difficult beast. It had so many forms, so many demands, so many fingers gripping his heart. The only upside was that Flowerpelt had seemingly abandoned her feelings for him. She had matured into a great warrior, and Sootclaw felt nothing but respect for her.

Me, old? Dawnpaw replied. I'm not the one...well, you know.

Oh, Sootclaw knew. He fidgeted uncomfortably, though was saved from replying when Pigeonpaw came back out of the den, relieved of his starling. "I'm hungry," the tom complained, falling down to his haunches by Sootclaw's feet. "Can I eat now?"

Sootclaw shook his head. "Not right now. I was thinking we would do some battle training with Greywing and Nightpaw first."

"Battle training?" A large black head popped out of the nursery nearby. Nightpaw grinned at them excitedly. "Oh, yes, can we please, Sootclaw?"

He had to smile, remembering all the times she had tumbled over his paws as a kit. At least there was one apprentice who knew how to respect him. "Greywing already said we could, so yes," Sootclaw mewed. "What are you doing in there?"

"Changing the bedding," replied Nightpaw cheerfully. "I have to do it quick, though. The kits could be back at any time, and then there's no way I'll be able to escape. Remember, if they pass by, you didn't see me."

"Pigeonpaw, go help your sister change the moss," instructed Sootclaw. "We'll be able to get to our training that much quicker if you do."

"What?" squeaked the spiky-furred tom. "But I don't want to change the moss! That's gross!"

"I don't care what you want," said Sootclaw, exasperated. "I'm your mentor. You'll do what I say."

Now I know what Thickfur feels like, said Dawnpaw mildly.

Sootclaw let her know just how unimpressed he was, sending an exaggerated sigh in her direction. He refuses to learn! He's nine moons, Dawnpaw. That's older than you were, when...when everything happened. When our minds became linked. We were so young.

Their minds slipped together, and suddenly he was awash in her emotions, lost in a tide of affection and amusement. We still are, Dawnpaw said softly. Honestly, if it weren't for you, I would probably be just like Pigeonpaw is now. Petulant, cringing at Thickfur's shadow...

Sootclaw knew where he would be if they hadn't met: by his father's side, drinking in the darkness his father spewed with every word. He still couldn't decide if Falconswoop had been a coward or if he had been brave and merely misguided. Worst of all, he didn't know if he had the guts to find out. Falconswoop had thrown himself off the cliff, never giving Sootclaw the change to test his resolve. I would have killed him, he told himself every night. I would have done it. But he wasn't so sure.

How's Kitetail? he asked, trying to change the subject.

He's good, said Dawnpaw. Fitting in well. The others have accepted him. He helped Breezekit the other day, and he's been consulting a lot with Slatestar.

Sootclaw was glad to hear it. He only saw his brother at Gatherings now, and it was never enough. They were cordial, but there were so many words that Sootclaw was desperate to say, words that were just hiding underneath his skin, tucked into the back of his throat. He often wondered if Kitetail had those words too, if he was full of regrets and remorse and things he wished he could say. Sootclaw smiled ruefully. I'm glad.

Pigeonpaw and Nightpaw emerged from the nursery, scraps of moss clinging to their fur. They looked liked a tussle had broken out halfway through their chore. Nightpaw's pelt was in disarray, and Pigeonpaw had a sour look on his face. As Nightpaw danced circles around her brother, it was easy to tell who had won their mock sparring match.

Sootclaw was about to ask if they were finished when a vicious cry interrupted them. "Get them!" yowled a high-pitched voice, and then Pigeonpaw was falling to the ground, covered in squirming bundles. The apprentice cried out in anger, but they held him down, jeering in triumph.

"That's enough," said Sootclaw mildly. The kits reluctantly clambered off of Pigeonpaw's fluffy form, and the apprentice rose to his paws indignantly, giving his chest a few quick licks to hide his embarrassment. "Where's your mother?"

Streakkit and Fennelkit exchanged glances and shrugged. Though the two siblings were identical in personality, they could not have been less alike in terms of appearance. Streakkit had short brown fur, tinged with grey, while Fennelkit had long white fur, his pelt splotched with orange. At three and a half moons, they were large, and between them, probably accounted for a third of all the prey eaten. Sootclaw liked them well enough, though. One day, they would make good warriors.

"I know where mine is," said Hailkit, purring. The young tom was the spitting image of his father, down to his light blue eyes and pale grey tabby markings. Yet there was some of Redfur in his personality. "She's out leading a patrol to keep out RiverClan invaders!"

The Clans had been peaceful ever since Falconswoop's failed attempt to take over the lake. Though there was the occasional border skirmish, ThunderClan and RiverClan were giving ShadowClan room to recover. Meanwhile, WindClan had been acting oddly, though as long as they kept the peace, Eaglestar didn't seem to care.

"Sootclaw, can we go training with you, please please please?" begged Streakkit, her yellow eyes wide.

From behind them, Pigeonpaw snorted. "Don't let them come along," he mewed snottily. Sootclaw was tempted to swat him over the ear and remind him of the time that another annoying kit had begged to come along to training sessions. Instead, he looked down at Sprucetail's kits and shook his head. "Not this time. You'll be apprentices soon enough."

Hailkit flicked his companions with his tail. "Yeah, we're still too young. Want to go play RiverClan invasion behind the nursery instead? You can be Eaglestar, Fennelkit, and I'll be Slatestar of ThunderClan."

"What about me?" asked Streakkit indignantly.

"I saved you the best role," said Hailkit calmly. "You get to be my father. Or you can be Toadstar, but I know you like acting out the death scenes."

Sootclaw watched them tumble away and felt his heart twist painfully. He missed his former mentor so much that it hurt. Hailstripe had been everything to him, a real father, though he hadn't realized it at the time. The grey tom had spent so much time trying to please Falconswoop that he hadn't seen how much Hailstripe had cared for him. Now Hailstripe was gone, though his legacy would continue. Hailkit was promising, the fulfillment of what his father had began. Redfur would be proud.

If only I had told him that before it was too late, Sootclaw thought sadly.

Sootclaw? She had noticed the sudden sorrow in his mind. It stained the portrait their union created, sending a shock of dark blue through the haze of oranges and pinks. The tom found it easier and easier to see her mind now, as well as access it. He could probably slip beneath her skin if he wanted, though they had come to an unspoken agreement never to do anything like that without permission. Sootclaw remembered the time Dawnpaw had entered his mind by accident; just the thought of losing the power of his body sent shivers through him. No, that would never happen again. Instead, the two had learned to block each other out and retain their privacy.

You made loving others seem so easy, with all your memories of Branchpaw, he told her. But it's hard.

Dawnpaw hesitated. I didn't know that at the time. I thought it was so easy, too. I thought I could save him just by loving him, but I was wrong. Love makes you strong, but it can't solve your problems without your help. It's the best thing in the world, but it's also the worst.

He knew the truth of that statement. Love made him feel alive, like he was soaring far above the treetops. Whenever he saw Lilystream, the feelings overtook him until he could barely breathe. Sootclaw had professed his feelings to her many times; sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes between ragged breaths, and sometimes in cries so loud he was surprised he didn't wake the whole forest. And yet whenever he returned to camp, the guilt stole over him, the pain of knowing he was breaking the warrior code.

Sootclaw had never told Dawnpaw how he felt about her, and truth be told, he barely knew the answer to that. He needed her, it was true. The feeling of her mind against his sent chills down his spine, and the thought of living without her nearly broke him. Whenever he saw her at Gatherings, he felt his body cry out for her, felt his soul try to escape his flesh and bones and reach hers. But he couldn't love two cats at once. He couldn't put himself through that. And so he kept silent.

Pigeonpaw was still licking flakes of ice and moss from his pelt. He looked up at Sootclaw, eyes narrowed. "Can we go now?"

Sootclaw flicked his tail. "One moment. Nightpaw, where's your mentor?"

"Behind you," she said cheerfully, and Sootclaw turned to see the skinny warrior striding into camp. Though he was shivering, his eyes were alight with humour, and his movements energetic.

"Ready to go, Sootclaw?" asked Greywing. Sootclaw nodded, following the senior warrior out of camp. He fell into step beside the older tom, casting the occasional glance back to make sure that Nightpaw and Pigeonpaw were trotting after them. It felt strange to be a mentor, to walk alongside Greywing as equals.

What if I can't turn Pigeonpaw into a good warrior? Sootclaw asked. He felt Dawnpaw's mind thrum into life against his as she thought up an answer. He was so used to feeling her beside him, and though they had learned to separate their lives, he sometimes still woke with strange dreams in his mind, her dreams. They were usually about Branchpaw. Sootclaw had never brought it up with her, though he found himself wondering if she ever found Falconswoop in her head.

You're a fine mentor, Dawnpaw reassured him. Eaglestar knew what he was doing when he picked you.

They slipped by the boulder marking the camp entrance and padded into the forest. Around them, darkness loomed. Huge drifts of snow covered the trees and blocked out the sun. Far beneath the frosty canopy, the ground was hard and brittle, with only a dusty covering of snow. The wind whistled through the pines, sharp and dry, making Sootclaw shiver. He and Pigeonpaw were mostly fine with their thick pelts, but Nightpaw and Greywing were obviously freezing. The young she-cat's teeth were chattering as she tried to keep up with her mentor.

The tom thought about Hailkit as they walked. He would have loved to mentor the young kit instead of Pigeonpaw. The injustice of it made him grind his teeth. Didn't Eaglestar realize that he was wasting Sootclaw's potential as a mentor? He knew the leader loved his son, but it would be of greater benefit to the Clan if Sootclaw was to mentor Hailkit instead. The kit would grow to be a better warrior than Pigeonpaw ever would. Besides, Sootclaw felt as though he owed Hailstripe a great debt, and he needed to repay it.

Another thing struck him as unjust: Redfur's appointment as deputy. She was a fine warrior, but she should have been in the nursery with Hailkit instead of letting Sprucetail raise him.

I thought you approved of Redfur as deputy? Dawnpaw wondered.

Sootclaw shifted uncomfortably. I do. But there are better warriors...

Like you? Dawnpaw's words were sharp. Sootclaw flinched.

I'm a great warrior, he told her. Everyone knows it. I would make a better deputy than Redfur, if I just had the time.

You don't, snapped Dawnpaw. Her hostility was a new phenomenon to him. She had always been patient in the past, but for the past moon, things had been different. Her temper was shorter, and though they never actually discussed the reason why, Sootclaw kept wondering if she was mad at him. He couldn't think of a reason why, though. He hadn't done anything wrong. The she-cat continued. You're still young. Your time will come.

Her words irked him, and annoyance made him say something he would never mean in a thousand seasons. I could be deputy right now. It would have been so easy. If I had listened to my father...

A sharp pang of worry shot through her. You don't regret anything, do you? With Falconswoop?

Of course not, he reassured her quickly, feeling guilty. I don't regret a single thing. I just want to be the best warrior I can for my Clan.

I'm sorry. I know. Dawnpaw seemed to calm slightly. Sootclaw sighed in relief. Though he had spoken the truth, he knew she didn't completely believe him. Ever since he had snapped off their connection in the past, crying out about how love was weak and only physical strength was important, she seemed to always be half-expecting him to do it again. Sootclaw would never break their connection again, he knew that now, but he wondered if she fully believed him.

Don't be sorry. I hate making you worry. He felt her brighten at his words, but quickly reverted his attention back to the cats around him. Greywing had stopped them as they walked into a large clearing, fringed by spruces and cedars. The ground was piled high with snow, and above them, the sky was a pale blue.

"We have to fight here?" said Pigeonpaw in dismay. "Look at how deep the snow is! It'll be impossible!"

Greywing merely shook his head. "That's exactly the point. You two need to learn to fight in even the toughest of conditions. Pigeonpaw, you head to that side of the clearing. Nightpaw, you stay over here. When I say go, I want you two to start sparring. Claws sheathed, of course, and nothing dangerous.

"Prepare to be humiliated," Pigeonpaw told his sister. She merely rolled her eyes and watched as he walked around the edge of the clearing in order to assume his position.

"Go," commanded Greywing. The two apprentices threw themselves at each other. Pigeonpaw tripped over the snow and stumbled to the side, while Nightpaw misjudged her leap and landed past him. The she-cat spun around, preparing to fight him, but the grey-and-white tom was starting to careen off the side of the pile of snow. Nightpaw flung herself at him, knocking them both to the ground. The two cats tussled, but Nightpaw had the advantage of surprise, and she eventually came out on top, breathing heavily.

Pigeonpaw spat out a mouthful of snow. "Cheater!"

"Enough," said Sootclaw idly. "That was painful to watch."

Greywing shot him a confused glance before looking back at the apprentices. "That was alright, but neither of you would stand a chance against a trained warrior. Try it again, and this time, take it slow."

It's just hard to teach him, you know? Sootclaw thought grimly, expecting Dawnpaw's mind to vibrate against his.

It didn't. There was a split-second of horrible, wrenching pain, like his body was being split in two, and then everything changed. She snapped away from him and he gasped, nearly collapsing on the ground. Sootclaw tried to find her mind and only managed to touch black. He felt empty, hollow, broken beyond belief. There was a nothingness surrounding him, a void where all of her love and life and laughter had been.

Dawnpaw! Sootclaw searched desperately for her, throwing himself into the space, hoping he would somehow slide into her mind. But she was gone, and he could feel the brightness ebbing away from his mind. There was a huge gash where their connection had been, a rip where the membranes had been pulled away. A sob caught in his throat and his stomach churned. Sickness threatened to overtake him. Dawnpaw, where are you?

She had vanished, and in her place, there was only a terrible emptiness.

X X X X X X X

A/N: The plot thickens. Or sickens. However you want to describe it. Sootclaw seems to have retained a little bit of his brattiness, though I can't blame him. He hasn't needed to be altruistic for the past four moons; things have gone back to normal for him. Compared to Pigeonpaw, though, everyone is a saint. Also, I'm a huge fan of Hailkit, so yay. It pains me to say I don't really remember Hailstripe all too well; I haven't written him for almost a year.

In all seriousness, things are starting to happen in the story. Something happened to the mind-link, and you'll get half the answer to that in the next update, which is...drumroll please...Thickfur's POV! I've been teasing about it forever, but it's finally here, all written and sitting in my document manager waiting to be published. I'm happy with the way it turned out!

Sorry for the late update, I was away for the past couple of days. Lastly, DawnxSoot fans, there's no need for alarm. Well, actually, there's a little need for alarm. But remember that we're not even halfway through the trilogy - not that I'm promising anything for the future.

ScourgexScarlet: I doubt Thickfur is ever excited for anything, but thanks XD

bubbletail: Thanks for the review :) Can you tell the answer from this chapter?

KittyKat8888: Hey! Wow, it means a lot that you've finally started to review, thanks so much. Dawnpaw is about eleven moons old right now, so fairly close, and no, I hadn't planned anything with her and Kitetail.

frostfeather: Heh, are you sure that Alder is a lovebird?

Blackish: About Chantelle…it was good of you to notice that. First, I don't think she can personally make up her mind between the two. She would be happy either way, as long as it resulted with a kingdom in the end. She wants Alder to fight, she wants him to be the ideal "prince", but she would be okay with laying low for awhile until Baron is gone. Alder, on the other hand, isn't interested in going back at all, and she's desperate to ignore that.

Alder is a little bland right now. He's very reserved and polite, but we'll see more of him in future chapters (from a different POV than Chantelle's, actually.)

Good call on the "knocked-out" thing for Fogpaw. I wasn't planning on showing her waking-up scene, but I'll definitely take your words into consideration.

Coqui's Song: I guess we can dub this fic "the-story-where-stuff-actually-happened-outside-the-Clans." Trust me when I say that both the loners and their pursuers will play an important role in the story :)

Thistlethorn of Shadowclan: Aww, yeah, Fogpaw's cute :D And you know what authors do to cute characters, right? We torture them!

Hannah- Queen of Rawring: First off, I'd like to say thanks for reviewing :D I'm glad you liked PotS, and it's awesome that you're here reading the sequel too. Thanks a bunch for all the compliments; I just hope I can live up to them!

Next chapter should have been posted tomorrow, but as I'm late on this one, it should be up on Saturday. Then we'll have an update next Monday and everything will go back to normal. It also means I actually need to start writing chapter five before we get to next week and I realize that I have nothing for you all.

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)