CHAPTER TWENTY

"You wanted to see me?" Thickfur strode into his father's den, his grey pelt dotted with snow. There was a lump of it on his muzzle that refused to come off and it had already put him in a surly mood. The weather was getting worse and worse, and between the attack, Dawnpaw's predicament, and Kitetail's mistrust, the tabby warrior was in no mood to deal with it.

Slatestar looked up. The tom was curled up in his next, sharing tongues with Grasscloud. The two exchanged a brief look, and Grasscloud got to her paws. Thickfur watched with narrowed eyes as she padded past him. The she-cat and his father had been growing closer lately, and it unsettled him. He knew Slatestar was a grown cat, capable of making his own decisions, but there was a part of Thickfur that regarded it as a betrayal. His mother might be dead, but she was not gone.

"Yes," mewed Slatestar. "Come in and take a seat." The dark grey tom showed none of the stress that must have been bothering him. He was calm and composed, and if the attacks had taken a toll on him, Thickfur couldn't tell.

Thickfur did as he was told. "What's this about?" he asked.

His father took a deep breath. When he met Thickfur's gaze, his eyes were apologetic. "It's about Dawnpaw."

Thickfur couldn't help it. He flinched, sure that Slatestar must have noticed. "What about Dawnpaw?" he asked, immediately defensive. He couldn't rid Kitetail's words from his mind: she hated you. He held on to the hope that they were a lie, inflicted only in anger. But the medicine cat had sounded so convincing, and Thickfur couldn't stand it. He might have been too harsh on the young tom. Might have. Maybe.

"Thickfur..." Slatestar exhaled. "We have to start facing the possibility that Dawnpaw...she might not recover."

"No!" The words were a reflex, shot out of his mouth. Slatestar's words whipped at him, inflicting injury. Thickfur refused to consider the possibility that she might not recover. It was unthinkable. Impossible, even. She would find a way through, he knew it.

"I'm sorry," said Slatestar, his voice heavy. "But she's been in that coma for almost a moon now, and there's nothing Kitetail can do to help her. And if she does manage to recover, she might not be the same."

"So you're giving up?" asked Thickfur, voice rising. He was growing angry, but he didn't care. Let Slatestar know how angry he was, how furious that the tom had even suggested giving up on Dawnpaw. She was part of ThunderClan too, and the warrior code called upon them to protect the weak. Right now, she needed their protection more than ever. Thickfur tried to convince himself that was why he was so vehement, that it had nothing to do with any personal attachment he had developed, but failed miserably.

"I didn't say that," said Slatestar flatly. "I just think we should move on in case the worst occurs. We can't live our lives waiting for something that might never happen."

"It will happen," Thickfur insisted. "She will get better, and I will wait."

"Please, don't be like this." Slatestar sighed. "Listen, Breezekit and Mothkit are about a moon from being apprenticed. I was thinking of giving you one – your pick."

Thickfur snorted in bitter derision. "Sounds great. Why don't you just give me Breezekit? Then, when his seizures start getting worse, we can go through this process all over again."

"Listen to me." Slatestar's voice was strained. "If Dawnpaw recovers, we'll figure it out. If she doesn't, though – and this is looking more and more likely – then we need to move on with our lives. You of all cats should understand this, Thickfur."

"Me of all cats? Are you talking about – my mother?" He was stunned. His father was pulling a cheap shot on him and it hurt beyond belief. Thickfur wanted to scream at the dark grey tom. She was your mate. She loved you. Don't do this to me. But he shut his eyes and forced the anger and frustration down and concentrated on Dawnpaw. "Look. You gave me Dawnpaw to mentor. She's my responsibility, and I won't let her down. I won't give up on her. I refuse. I will stand by her until the very end, and more than anything, I will not betray her."

"Thickfur – " began his father, but before Slatestar could find the words, Thickfur turned and walked out of the den. He didn't want to hear it. He wouldn't break his solemn promise to Dawnpaw by taking on a new apprentice.

He could hear his father calling his name, but he ignored it, his ears burning. The very nature of the conversation had offended him. How dare Slatestar imply that Dawnpaw wouldn't recover? Of course she would. As weak and frail as she was, as shy and as quiet, as much as she frustrated, Thickfur would not deny that she was resilient. He remembered comforting her by Brindlefeather's body and remembered how she had overcome her fear to stop her murderous brother.

Branchpaw. It had been a long time since he had thought of the tom. Once a fixture in ThunderClan camp, he was gone now, and Thickfur hardly noticed his absence. He wondered how Dawnpaw dealt with it, dealt with her guilt. Then he realized he was thinking too much about Dawnpaw, and tried to shut her out of his mind.

And yet, despite his irritation with that fact, he went to Kitetail's den to check on her anyway.

.

The den was warmer than the air outside, for which Thickfur was grateful. He sat by Dawnpaw's nest, the lump of snow still present on his muzzle. He glared at it, crossing his eyes as he did so, and blinked at the sudden pain. Today really wasn't his day. Dawnpaw, on the other hand, look as warm as could be, surrounded by moss and down. She twitched occasionally, stirring in her sleep, the sight of which filled Thickfur with hope.

The sound of pawsteps made him turn around. Kitetail entered the den, a scant packet of herbs clutched in his jaws. An awkward look passed between them. Thickfur felt his chest constrict. He didn't want to be anywhere near the medicine cat, not after what had happened between them. He understood why Kitetail had suspected him, though he would never admit it. He narrowed his eyes.

Kitetail coughed. "I didn't know you were here."

"Yeah," said Thickfur. There was a pause. He thought of things he could say to hurt Kitetail but refrained from vocalizing any of them. "I came to check on her."

"There's no change," said Kitetail softly. His posture was meek, submissive, as if he expected Thickfur to snap at him any second.

"I noticed," said Thickfur, though there was no snark to his voice. He was far too sullen to attempt sarcasm. "Collecting herbs?"

Kitetail nodded, letting out a dry chuckle. "Not that there's a lot to be found...Alder's bringing in some of the others."

Thickfur frowned. Kitetail had been spending an awful lot of time with the loner lately. Apparently they were friends now, though the last time Thickfur had checked, the two didn't get along. Whatever the case, he didn't want Alder coming into the den. "I'll go get them," he mewed. "Where is he?"

"Just coming into camp now," mewed Kitetail. He was uneasy, Thickfur realized; he was trying to balance making both Thickfur and Alder happy, and they clearly they both couldn't be in the den at once. If Thickfur had his way, Alder would never be in there at all.

"I'll meet him," he said, and slipped out of the den. As he passed Kitetail, he felt the tabby tom tense slightly.

The second Thickfur went back into the clearing, he knew something was different, wrong. The snow was falling faster and thicker than ever, and when he looked up, there was only the whiteness of the sky. It had not been like this a few minutes ago. He tensed, unsure of what was happening, not wanting to believe his eyes. But the drifts were falling heavier and heavier, and as he looked up, it showed no signs of stopping. It was starting to pile by his feet now. Thickfur felt his blood run cold.

Kitetail must have noticed his confusion, for he padded out of the den. "What is – oh!" he let out an expression of surprise as he was immediately overcome by the falling snow. "A blizzard?"

Thickfur nodded slowly. "Yeah..." He trailed off. "We have to tell Slatestar and evacuate the camp."

Kitetail grimaced, probably at the thought of another evacuation. "Why? It's just snow?"

The grey tabby sighed through gritted teeth. "Where do we live, Kitetail? ThunderClan camp is a hole in the ground. A hole that will fill up quickly."

He watched as understanding passed over Kitetail's face and his eyes widened in disbelief, and finally horror. "Oh, StarClan," was all he said. Around the camp, others were beginning to notice the sudden storm as well.

"Go warn Slatestar," said Thickfur urgently. "Quick."

Kitetail didn't need more instruction than that. He took off for their leader's den. Thickfur ran toward the clearing, trying to do a head count. Who was in camp at the moment? Who was out on a patrol? Nettleclaw would know. Was the deputy even in camp? Worry pierced him, sharp and cold.

It barely took a moment for Slatestar to erupt from his den. "We're evacuating now," he announced, booming voice echoing off the rock walls. "The most important thing is getting out of camp and into the woods. We'll be safer up there, and we'll have more time to find shelter."

Thickfur nodded in approval. Anywhere was safer than the ThunderClan camp. Though the shape was convenient for dealing with enemies, it was a natural hazard. The snow would build up, piling over the dens and trapping anything inside. The snow would also build up into huge drifts at the quarry's edges, and Thickfur knew it would be bad if those drifts happened to fall over the side and onto any cats below.

Slatestar's voice was urgent as he relayed his final instructions. "We'll also need someone to help with the elders." The tom paused. "Go. Now."

From that point on, it was a frantic dash out of camp. The snow was piling up faster than Thickfur could track it, and he watched as cats struggled through the drifts to make their way out of camp. The trail out was becoming steeper and steeper with every passing second. He watched as Beechclaw and Auburnfur made their way out, their kits clutched in their mouth. Larkflight was behind them, supporting Foxwhisker on her shoulder. Owlfeather padded by their side for safety.

"Thickfur, are you coming?" asked Owlfeather, twisting around as he walked by.

"I have to get Dawnpaw," said Thickfur, shaking his head. He turned away from Owlfeather and ran over to the medicine cat's den, prepared to pull his apprentice to safety. His stomach churned with anxiety. How would she react to being moved? Could her body handle it?

Just as he was about to head inside, he heard his name being called. Swearing under his breath, he turned to see Elmheart yelling for him. The golden-brown warrior, with Chantelle at his side, was forcing Cherrytail up the slope. The queen was resisting, yowling something fierce down into the clearing. Thickfur frowned, trying to make out what Elmheart was saying. The young warrior repreated himself: "Grab Limekit!"

Oh. That explained everything. The small kit was still in the snow at the bottom of the clearing, mewling for his mother. He must have tumbled away from Cherrytail on his way up the slope, but Elmheart wasn't about to risk the queen's safety to let her fetch him. Thickfur bounded over, grabbing Limekit by the scruff of his neck. The off-white bundle resisted at first, but was eventually content to swing from Thickfur's jaws.

Annoyed at the inconvenience, Thickfur brought Limekit up to the top of the slope, where the others were waiting. Cherrytail let out a gasp of relief, rushing over to collect her kit, burying her face in his fur.

"Is this everyone?" asked Slatestar.

Thickfur shook his head. "Dawnpaw's still down there."

From behind him, Foxwhisker let out a gasp. "So's Snowfoot."

"I'll get them both," said Thickfur, though he wasn't quite sure how. Without a second thought, he bounded back down into the clearing.

The snow had deepened and he struggled to make his way through it. If he wasn't seeing it for himself, the grey tom would never believe that snow could fall this fast. The air around him filling with snow and obscuring his vision. Gritting his teeth, he made his way toward the elder's den, where he knew Snowfoot would be waiting. Pushing his way into the entrance, he saw the old white tom, cowering with fear.

"Snowfoot, come with me," he barked, lashing his tail. "Quick, we don't have much time."

The blind tom rose to his paws shakily, following the sound of Thickfur's voice. Thickfur rushed to his side, allowing the tom to lean on his shoulders. They had made it to the centre of the camp when Thickfur heard a loud crack. He stiffened.

Was that – StarClan, it was. There was another crack. One of the trees standing at the top of the quarry, already rotten with age, had started to split. Thickfur did the only thing he could think of, shoving Snowfoot into the medicine cat's den. The elder stumbled as he made his way inside the rock cranny. As it was inside the wall, it was probably the safest place in camp.

Thickfur looked up. The tree was teetering precariously over the edge. It would fall, he could tell, and block their exit from camp. Swearing under his breath, he threw himself into the den after Snowfoot. Just as he regained his balance, skidding on the ground inside, there was another loud crack and the tree fell into the stone hollow.

It hit the ground with a resounding thud. Thickfur watched as a segment of the trunk landed in front of the den's entrance. The grey tabby could hardly bear to breathe. They had avoided between squashed, but they were still trapped here. It was the safest place he could think of – the snow would not reach inside the nook, merely pile up outside, but there was no way they were getting out any time soon.

"Are you okay?" he asked, turning to Snowfoot.

The old tom nodded. "What was that sound?" he asked, still trembling.

"A tree fell," said Thickfur grimly. "We're stuck here until morning. They'll dig us out when the blizzard stops." He peered out of the slight opening that the tree had left and saw that the elder's den was completely crushed beneath its branches. It was a good thing he had gotten Snowfoot out in time.

Snowfoot was safe. But what about Dawnpaw?

Heart in his throat, he padded over to the ginger she-cat. She was still sound asleep, and he felt reassured watching the rhythmic movement of her chest as she breathed in and out. You didn't even notice, did you, he thought. Lucky.

"How long until morning?" asked Snowfoot. He was shivering, and not just from the cold. Thickfur suspected that the scare had seriously rattled the elder.

He took another look out of the den, noticing that the open space was almost completely filled with snow. Their light would soon be gone. Thickfur glanced up at the sky. "It's dusk, I think," he mewed. "Try to get some sleep."

"What about the rest of the Clan?" asked Snowfoot, settling down into Kitetail's bed of moss. "Did they make it out?"

Thickfur nodded. "They'll be fine," he mewed, moving away from the entrance. His eyes found Dawnpaw and he padded toward her, curling up beside the slender apprentice. The snow was beginning to melt into his fur and he found himself shivering as well. Hopefully huddling with his apprentice would help them both preserve warmth.

He settled against her, placing his head on his paws, aware that her scent was wrapped around him. "You'll be fine," he promised her, though he knew she couldn't hear him. "I promised I'd keep you safe and I will, you'll see." It was odd, how he could only say these things to her when she wasn't around to listen.

No matter what Slatestar said, he wouldn't abandon her.

.

Thickfur couldn't sleep. It was night, and the small den was filled with absolute darkness. His eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, and he could see Snowfoot across from him, the old tom sleeping soundly in his nest. The grey warrior had all but lost track of time, and he wondered vaguely when it would be morning, and when help would arrive.

Beside him, Dawnpaw twitched in her sleep. He looked at her, feeling a half-smile come across his face. He was proud of her, though he would never admit it. Whatever was happening to her, she was fighting it. She was still alive, and he knew she would make her way back to ThunderClan. She had to.

"I should have told you that I was proud of you," he said, a bit sadly. "After what happened with Branchpaw – not any cat could have done that. It took guts. I guess it wouldn't have hurt for me to show a bit more compassion, huh? I was so cruel to you, I thought it would make you stronger. If you come back, I promise to be fairer. Just please come back."

Thickfur realized he was choked with emotion. The feeling was unusual to him and he frowned, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. This wasn't like him. He didn't show emotion. He kept it wrapped up in the back of his mind where he would never have to deal with it. But something about Dawnpaw was drawing it forth. He felt connected to the young she-cat. She was his responsibility, his charge. It was the greatest responsibility any cat could have, to be a mentor. He wished she knew how much he wanted to help her, how much he wanted her to be great, but it was hard to know those things without being told, and he had never had the courage or the inclination to say them.

He glanced over at Snowfoot. The tom was still sleeping, which was good. The elder hadn't heard him. Thickfur couldn't help it – he felt embarrassed by the feelings that had poured out of him. He was a warrior, a tom cat, and he had a reputation for being gruff. He wasn't supposed to show he had emotions. Yet just because he repressed them didn't mean they didn't exist.

"You probably think I'm a jerk," he said to Dawnpaw, letting out a dry chuckle. "I guess you're right. I know your life has been hard so far, but well, mine was too. My mother – Flamefur – she died when I was just a kit. It hurt all of us. Slatestar decided to make me his apprentice, even though it wasn't usual for a father to mentor his own son. He didn't treat me like a son, then, though. He treated me the way any warrior would treat his apprentice. I think he was trying to forget, too. I don't know if he did...I didn't forget about my mother, I just learned it wasn't okay to think about it, that I had to put it behind me. But I couldn't stop feeling guilty..."

Thickfur sighed. "Anyway, I just...I don't know why I'm saying these things. You can't hear me. I guess that's why, really. These are things I can't tell anyone." He was babbling, the tom realized. He was babbling and showing weakness and emotion and breaking down all of the barriers he had worked so hard to put up. He hated himself for it, but it felt so good, and the words just rolled off his tongue. He was looking for catharsis, for understanding, for redemption. And then, realizing he couldn't find it here, the sadness hit him.

StarClan, he was growing soft. "Look," he told Dawnpaw, adopting his gruff tone, "just be alright, okay?"

The weariness began to overtake him them. Sliding closer to the ginger she-cat, he revelled in her warmth as he placed his head on his paws. Sleep began to tug at him and, grateful, he let it take him into the darkness.

.

He woke to the sound of scratching. Thickfur bolted upright, searching for the source of the sound, before realizing it was the noise of his Clanmates digging at the entrance. The grey tabby let out a sigh of relief. The blizzard was over, the sun had risen, and they were going to be saved.

Beside him, Dawnpaw was still sleeping. Her chest was still rising, and he realized, with an inward whoop of joy, that she was no worse for the experience. She would be fine. The memory of all the things he had said last night came surging back to him, and the tom felt hot embarrassment run through him. He was so glad no one had heard his little speech. He didn't know what had come over him.

Then he looked at Snowfoot – and froze. The tom lay absolutely still, his chest unmoving. Thickfur rushed over to him, nosing the elder's side. "Snowfoot, wake up," he said, pushing him with more fervour. "Snowfoot!"

Thickfur pressed himself to the tom's side, and paled when he realized there was no heartbeat. He took a shaky step backward. "StarClan," he whispered. Snowfoot must have died in his sleep. At least it was peaceful, Thickfur rationalized. He was in StarClan now, and he hadn't suffered.

He stood there a moment before moving to the front of the den to help with the rescue effort. A hole was being cleared in the snow, though the tree still lay in the way. Peering through the newly-formed gap, he saw Larchstripe staring back at him. "Thickfur!" she exclaimed in obvious relief. "You're okay."

He nodded. "I'm fine. So's Dawnpaw."

Something in her face fell. "Snowfoot?" she asked.

Thickfur took a deep breath. "He – he didn't make it," the tom mewed. "I'm sorry."

She cringed. "How?"

"In his sleep," mewed Thickfur. He blinked reassuringly at the silver she-cat. "He didn't suffer, Larchstripe. I know that for certain."

She nodded. "Slatestar – he'll be upset." Snowfoot had been Slatestar's deputy before blindness had overtaken him. The two toms had grown up together, and had been close friends. As a kit, Thickfur had always considered Snowfoot as an older uncle.

"Yeah." Thickfur's voice was curt.

There was another pause, and then Larchstripe resumed her digging. Soon there was a hole large enough for him to wiggle through. "We're going to have to work on removing the tree," he said as he approached the gap. Larchstripe nodded and indicated that he should come out.

Thickfur pushed his way through the snow and the tangles of branches. Relief swelled through him as he stepped out into the clearing. Though the ground was covered in snow, it held underneath his weight. He breathed in the fresh air, feeling it cleanse his lungs.

His feeling of relief was short-lived as he looked around. The ThunderClan camp was covered in a layer of snow, the top of the dens just barely poking through the drifts. The tree that had fallen last night lay over a good half of the camp, making the way in extremely difficult to navigate.

It was going to take a lot of work to bring things back to normal.

XX XX XX XX

A/N: Here we are, at the end of another chapter! I've been waiting to write this one for over a year now. I'm so excited by it. We're also more than halfway done the story, something else that I can't fathom. We've come so far and yet there's still so far to go. Thanks to everyone who has, and is still, supporting me through this! I couldn't do it without you.

So. Thickfur. I love him. As for ThunderClan, things are really starting to fall apart. They're pretty vulnerable right now, with their camp in disarray, and the worst is yet to come.

I also have to apologize for a mistake on my part: I've been writing Larkflight as if she were a warrior, but she's actually an elder. Oops.

Lastly, there might be some new projects in the works. I don't want to take my attention away from this trilogy, but I do want to start something new and more character-based (and more 'shades of grey' as opposed to good v evil like this series (mostly) is. Stay tuned!

FawnHasAnEvilArmyOfPuppies: Chapter One and Chapter Six, for sure. You can start there. Thanks for the review!

Coqui's Song: I fell in love with Pigeonpaw. I'm not sure when it happened, but I definitely want to pay him some attention as he develops into a warrior. As for Thickfur... here you go. :D Btw, I'm half-done that stuff I owe ya. Thanks for reviewing!

Honeycloud of RiverClan: I'm not sure even Sootclaw knows who he really loves... Thanks! :)

Senora Sapphire: Haha, I say temporary because we're only halfway through the story. Anything could happen! So don't be too sure all of the pairings we're seeing right now are 'endgame', so to speak.

Minatu-Chan: Hey, thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like the kits, I've had their personalities kicking around for a long time now!

Justsmile77: Haha, thanks. I looked up the quote, that's awesome!

Next chapter is... Sootclaw, again, so we can see how ShadowClan reacts to the blizzard, and Fogpaw! She'll have a much longer section this time around, I promise. After that, it's Dawnpaw, who I'm very excited to see again! I should mention that the next two chapters both take place at the exact same time as this one - while the blizzard is happening. (Well, Dawnpaw's is the morning after.)

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)