CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The snowstorm had subsided and ThunderClan had managed to dig out their dens more efficiently than Kitetail would have thought possible. The brown tabby returned to his den as soon as he was able, returning the herbs he had grabbed at the last moment before the snow had hit. It was a beautiful day, the sky clear and the air warm, and it helped put the medicine cat at ease after last night's events. While Snowfoot's death weighed heavily upon the young tom, he was relieved that no one else had been hurt.

Dawnpaw lay in the corner of his den, still sleeping soundly in her moss nest. While Kitetail's relationship with Thickfur was strained, he wouldn't deny that the grey tabby had done the young she-cat a service by remaining with her. It had been brave of Thickfur to go after her in the first place, and once again Kitetail got the impression that the grey tabby cared about his apprentice more than he was willing to let on.

Padding over to her, Kitetail did a quick inspection. Her breathing, while slow and shallow, hadn't worsened over the night. And while she was skinnier than before she had fallen into the coma, she did not appear to malnourished – something was keeping her sustained, whatever it was. It was a puzzle, and Kitetail didn't have the first clue in solving it. Yet she didn't appear to be in any immediate danger, and after the tom dribbled some water down her throat, he padded back out into the clearing.

Cats were still at work digging out the dens. He saw Beechclaw and Galepaw working on the elder's den, while Foxwhisker stood idly by, weariness etched on his lined face. Meanwhile, Cherrytail and Owlfeather attended to the nursery, fixing the bracken weave which made up the roof. Mousepaw ran errands for them while Auburnfur supervised, keeping her kits away from the bulk of the activity.

The main attraction, however, was the contingent of cats who were attempting to deal with the fallen tree. There were eight of them: Slatestar, Thickfur, Beck, Larchstripe, Nettleclaw, Grasscloud, and Elmheart, each with a branch in their mouth. Their muscles strained underneath their pelts as they pushed forward, dragging the tree along with them. Luckily, it was lacking in girth, and they were able to move it, carrying it up and out of the quarry with excruciating slowness. Larkflight watched from above, calling out directions, while Alder spotted them from below, ready in case anyone should slip.

Kitetail padded up beside him. "I'm impressed," he mewed.

"Me too," said Alder, a hint of admiration in his voice. "Your warriors are dedicated."

"Is there where you give me a speech about how your city cats could have done a better job?" Kitetail's comment was tongue-in-cheek, but there was a hint of seriousness in it as he cast Alder a sideways glance.

The slender tabby let out a chuckle, but it sounded empty. "No," he replied, shaking his head. "We're from different worlds and it isn't possible to compare them."

It was a good answer. Kitetail turned to look at the tom once more, this time giving his full attention. "Do you miss it?" he asked. "The city?"

"Of course," said Alder, seeming surprised that Kitetail would even ask such a question. "But it's changed now. I miss how it used to be."

Kitetail nodded. He found it strange that the two of them had become almost friends, especially after their initial conflict. The tom remembered how vehemently opposed Thickfur had been to Alder; a much deeper conflict had begun that day, and now Kitetail seemed to have picked his side. He wondered if that was what had put Thickfur on edge around him, even more than the fact that he had accused Thickfur of being a traitor. Dawnpaw's safety was at stake, and in Thickfur's eyes, Kitetail had sided with the cat most likely to bring her danger.

The brown tabby looked up, eyes falling upon the heavy muscles of Thickfur's back. He would have to apologize to him, perhaps restart their relationship. Dawnpaw needed all the support she could get, after all.

"What's on your mind?" asked Alder, whose eyes were strangely perceptive. Kitetail always felt vulnerable underneath their scrutiny.

He didn't want to lie. "You and Thickfur. He's right, you know. You put Dawnpaw in danger."

"What about you?" asked Alder. "Do you hold that against me?"

Kitetail watched as the group of cats passed over the top of the quarry, dragging the tree out of sight. "I think you put her in danger when you came here, but I don't believe in carrying a grudge over a mistake." But Alder's comment had irked him; the tom needed to take responsibility for his actions, and while he seemed to be making baby steps, it wasn't enough to fully satisfy the medicine cat. "The two of you should talk," he added, and turned away.

He padded over to the trail and watched as the cats returned, clearly exhausted from their efforts. Slatestar led them back down, followed by Nettleclaw on one side, and to Kitetail's surprise, Beck on the other. They entered the camp silently, and Kitetail watched them without a sound. Thickfur looked up as he passed Kitetail, and their eyes met. The grey tabby's gaze hardened, and he looked away.

"Thickfur, wait," mewed Kitetail, moving to catch up with him.

The warrior looked surprised and somewhat irritated. "What is it?"

Kitetail took a deep breath. "What you did for Dawnpaw – "

" – Is what I would have done for any member of ThunderClan," said Thickfur, finishing the sentence on his behalf. "I care about my Clan, you know." The unspoken implication was there: despite what you may believe.

"Still," said Kitetail, desperate for a way to mend the rift between them.

"Look, Kitetail, this may surprise you, but my priority has always been the well-being of my Clan and Clanmates. Dawnpaw is one of them. The fact that she may hate me has no bearing on my responsibility as her mentor." Thickfur's voice was cool, his amber eyes hard.

"She never said that," Kitetail blurted out, feeling his face flush red underneath his fur. "I made it up to hurt you."

There was a very long silence. Thickfur had stopped in his tracks. He held Kitetail's gaze, cold and unblinking, and Kitetail felt himself begin to tremble as he wondered what the grey warrior would say next. The tom's face was stricken and he looked as though he was searching for the right words.

But before Thickfur could say anything, Nettleclaw let out a loud, rasping, gut-wrenching cough that caught Kitetail's full attention.

Forgetting about Thickfur, he ran over to the ginger deputy, heart in his throat. He knew what that cough was, and Nettleclaw did too. It was something that Kitetail hadn't dared to think about and had hoped wouldn't occur this leafbare – or any leafbare. But it was a fact of life, and now here it was, right in front of him.

Greencough.

Nettleclaw coughed again, a deep, dry noise that sounded as though he was trying to heave his lungs out of his mouth. The sound grated on Kitetail's ears, and he found his legs rooted to the ground, frozen in place.

"Kitetail." The deputy's voice snapped him out of his trance. He looked up, eyes wide and afraid. He wasn't ready to deal with this, with a real life-or-death situation. Birchcloud would know how, he would be able to take care of Nettleclaw.

"Y-yes?" he repeated, cursing his voice for betraying him by stuttering.

There was something odd in the deputy's eyes then: pity, and also resignation. Nettleclaw knew he was scared and felt bad for him, yet at the same time, Nettleclaw blamed him for being scared. Kitetail was the medicine cat; he was supposed to take care of the sick. How could Nettleclaw feel safe when it was obvious Kitetail didn't know how to do his job?

"Catnip," said the deputy softly, and then he coughed again.

Spurred into action, Kitetail beckoned the deputy to his den, where he took out some catnip and set out an appropriate dose. He cast his eyes over his supply of catnip – there was enough if only two or three cats were sick, but if it spread... He shut his eyes. He had to set up a quarantine.

Nettleclaw gulped down the herb. Kitetail frowned. Greencough usually came after whitecough, but the deputy hadn't shown any symptoms before, unless he had been hiding them well. It made sense – the deputy didn't want to appear weak. But why hadn't he sought treatment?

Kitetail swore and padded out of the den. "Everyone!" he called out, and a few cats stopped to listen, intrigued by the desperation in his voice. "Everyone, listen up!"

Slatestar heard his call and leapt up onto the Highledge. "Everyone, pay attention to Kitetail," he said, his deep voice booming around the quarry and reaching every nook. The Clan paused them, turning their attention toward the young medicine cat standing in front of them.

Kitetail took a deep breath. This was his moment. He had to appear strong. "It has come to my attention that there may be an outbreak of greencough in the camp. All cats must report to me for a check-up, and all those diagnosed with greencough will be confined to a quarantine zone." He thought fast. "The elder's den. The elders will be relocated to the apprentice's den for the time being. This is non-negotiable. Come see me when you have time today, this can't wait any longer." If they were lucky, it would only be Nettleclaw with greencough. If they were unlucky...

Slatestar blinked in approval while the other cats whispered amongst themselves. Everyone seemed to trust his judgement, though, and already a couple cats were breaking off to pad over to the medicine cat's den. Nettleclaw padded out to stand beside Kitetail. "Good," was all the ginger-and-white tom said. Kitetail felt irked but said nothing. I'm not Brindlefeather, he thought.

.

By the time night fell, Kitetail had already diagnosed two other cats with greencough: Owlfeather and Mousepaw. The mentor-and-apprentice combo seemed sheepish when they found out the news, and neither one of them wanted to admit to infecting the other. Still, it was reassuring to see Owlfeather comfort his young apprentice, placing his tail around her shoulders. Kitetail assured them that their cough wasn't that bad and that he expected them both to make full recoveries, then gave them some catnip and sent them to their quarantine zone.

Beechclaw came in after, looking as though he had been sent grudgingly, and emitted a faint cough. Kitetail listened and did a quick check-up. "Sounds like whitecough," he mewed. "Easy enough to get over. Take some catnip, and avoid getting too close to your kits for awhile; we don't want them to be infected."

The light brown warrior narrowed his eyes, but all Kitetail could do was shrug. "Sorry," he mewed apologetically. Beechclaw kept his eyes narrowed as he turned and stalked away.

But this idea spurred him, and afterwards he padded over to the nursery, where Auburnfur met him. The reddish-brown she-cat already knew what he was going to say. "Keep the kits confined?"

Kitetail nodded. "Please. They're the most vulnerable, especially Breezekit. I'm worried about his immune system. But hopefully this will pass soon and they'll be out playing in no time."

"He won't like it," mewed Auburnfur, attempting humour. But the situation was too dire and Kitetail couldn't offer her anything else but a smile. The queen sighed, and when she spoke again, her voice was sincere. "Thank you, Kitetail."

It was the first gesture of appreciation he had received, and it put the brown tabby in high spirits. Still, he was worried he wouldn't have enough catnip to give to all the sick cats. What if he had to choose who recovered? What if he had to take StarClan's place in determining life and death?

A better option occurred to him, one that he needed to check over with Slatestar first. But as Kitetail trudged through the snow toward his leader's den, he was intercepted by a dark tabby form. Thickfur. The warrior stood in front of him, silent for several moments, before speaking. "About what you said earlier."

"Yes?" asked Kitetail, on guard. Knowing Thickfur, he could be in for a formidable tongue-lashing. But the grey tom's expression seemed sober compared to earlier, his amber eyes softer than Kitetail had seen before.

"I understand you're under a lot of pressure, so I forgive you for speaking rashly, now and before. But don't let it happen again." Then his eyes hardened and he turned away. Kitetail watched him go, feeling slightly better. Thickfur hadn't apologized, but something seemed to have righted itself between them.

After Thickfur had gone, Kitetail continued over to Slatestar's den. "Can I come in?" he asked. When the tom gave his assent, Kitetail pushed his way through the moss curtain and stood in front of his leader.

Slatestar looked at him with warm amber eyes. "You did well, I'm proud."

"Thank you, Slatestar," mewed the medicine cat, dipping his head. "However, I fear that I cannot handle this alone."

"Of course. That fear is natural," said Slatestar, voice deep but soft.

Kitetail swallowed. "I would like permission to go over to ShadowClan and ask Birchcloud for both advice and for any catnip he can spare. Our stock is considerable, but I'm worried it won't be enough." His heart raced. To go to ShadowClan, to see Birchcloud and Sootclaw again... he had seen them at Gatherings, of course, but it just wasn't the same. He longed to be back in his old camp, with loam underneath his paws and the scents of pine in the air. Flowerpelt would be there as well, and Hailstripe's kit... There was so much that he missed.

Slatestar looked him over, and Kitetail wondered if the dark grey tom could read his mind, and knew the real reason he wanted to return. He wasn't lying about the catnip, but he wasn't being entirely truthful either; Kitetail wasn't sure he wanted Slatestar to know how badly he longed to see his former home. If the leader doubted his loyalty, it would undermine his reliance on the medicine cat, which was essential for the Clan to function.

"Of course, Kitetail," said Slatestar, voice still warm. "Do what you must. I have faith in you to perform your duties."

It was all Kitetail could do not to spin around on his heels and run off right then. "Thank you, Slatestar," he mewed, bowing once more. "I'll go tomorrow."

x x x

It had been a very interesting moon.

Grainstar, known to the rest of RiverClan as Grainheart, had settled into the Clan routine, though the lie was wearing him thin and the confusion still clouded his head, his memories nothing more than a whirlpool of terror and heartbreak. He had spent the past thirty or so days hunting or patrolling the borders while perfecting his backstory, fighting the constant unease that someone would discover he was not the cat he claimed to be.

It was Toadstar and Reedheart who had come up with his 'cover story', so to speak. They, and the medicine cat Patchnose, were the only ones who knew the truth of the situation: that he was not Grainheart, but a former leader of RiverClan who should be, according to all accounts, dead. Grainstar had no explanations for them, nothing between the hazy memories of a storm to the moment he had opened his eyes without any real knowledge of his past.

So now he was Grainheart. He was, as far as any RiverClan warrior could know, a loner from the Twolegplace and a long-lost descedent of the original Grainstar, who legend said had disappeared there long ago, along with the rest of his patrol. But the elders, while Grainstar had quizzed them extensively on his "grandfather's" history, had no idea what the patrol had been about. It had been a secret, they told him, one that was now forever buried beneath the countless moons which had passed.

RiverClan, sympathetic to his heritage, had accepted him as a quasi-warrior. He was not properly trained and would never hold an apprentice nor a high position, but he could hunt and fight, and so was a valuable addition to their Clan, especially in this time of peril. Grainstar shivered, remembering when Toadstar had first told him about Fogpaw. A young apprentice, vanished mysteriously, right on the heels of an attempt by a ShadowClan warrior to take over the lake. WindClan was acting mysteriously too, or so the rumours went. Their scent markings were weak at the border, and an acrid stench drifted over the hills.

He remembered how Reedthroat had winced when Fogpaw's name had been mentioned, and it had taken Grainstar a moment to realize that the pale tabby was her father. The pain had been evident in the tom's dark amber eyes, and it was still present whenever Grainstar saw him, except when the tabby was around his other child, Rainpaw. The black tom was serious and sober, and his sister's loss weighed heavily upon him as well. On several occasions, Grainstar had heard the tom remark that once he was a warrior, he was going to search for her.

Yes, things were odd, and Grainstar felt that his return to RiverClan was part of the larger puzzle. It was evident that Toadstar and Patchnose felt the same way; Toadstar was continually asking the medicine cat if he had heard from StarClan regarding the matter, to which Patchnose always had the same response: no.

No.

.

To everyone's relief, it did not snow that night. Yesterday's snowstorm had been torturous enough, though with its flat ground, RiverClan had been in no danger of snow-ins. Cats had been cold and undoubtedly miserable, but as they huddled together against the harsh chill, they had been fine. Tonight, though, the sky was clear and the stars shone brilliantly against the ebony backdrop. The air was calm, with no hint of wind, and Grainstar felt warmer than he had for the past few days. The snowstorm had been the worst of it, and now things were beginning to thaw: leafbare would be over within the next moon or so.

Grainstar padded out of camp, paws carrying him to the stream which lazily wound its way through the heart of RiverClan's ample territory. He sat down beside it, feeling the snow-covered sand sift between his toes. Reeds surrounded him, brushing gently against his long, flax-coloured pelt. It was a peaceful night, and he was eager to savour it. It brought back memories of a better time, a leafbare night from long ago when he had met Spiderstar beneath the glittering sky.

The memories were beginning to return to him; memories from his life, from his time as leader, though what had transpired in the Twolegplace still eluded him. Grainstar didn't remember why the patrol had been sent out, or what happened to them, but bits and pieces from the rest of it were all starting to come together. Spiderstar was first on his thoughts, followed by his childhood friend, Sleetfur – and then there was Sleetfur's daughter, Mistkit, who had vanished. And from there, everything seemed to fade away.

He was distracted by the sound of crunching behind him, and turned. Toadstar was picking his way through the reeds, his black pelt stark against the fallen snow. The leader seemed surprised to run into Grainstar, though he said nothing until he had come to a seat beside him. "You too?"

The golden tom looked up, surprised. "What?"

"I come out here to think," mewed Toadstar softly. He was looking at the older tom, but his eyes were far away. "To remember."

"Oh." Grainstar was slightly uncomfortable, not sure how much of himself he should share with RiverClan's new leader. It felt odd to sit here beside him – part of him felt that he should be jealous of Toadstar, but another part of him knew the truth, that he was no longer RiverClan's leader and needed to move on.

"My mate died after our daughter was born. Silverpool..." Toadstar's whole posture softened at the name, and there was something wistful in his eyes, until he shook himself out of it. "Lilystream's in the nursery now."

Grainstar nodded. "You must be very happy," he mewed. "Her kits are beautiful." He had seen the young bundles a few times, though he didn't enter the nursery often. The queens saw him as a former loner and did not quite trust him around their kits. Still, Lilystream's litter was wonderful. Icekit, Thornkit, and Cricketkit... he wondered if any reminded Toadstar of his lost mater.

Toadstar nodded. "I am," he mewed. "And Hazelthorn is a good father to them." There was something that the tom left unsaid in that sentence. Hazelthorn was father to the kits, but not Lilystream's mate. It was not uncommon for cats who weren't in love to mate in order to produce kits. Lilystream had wanted to be a mother, and Hazelthorn had obliged.

"You wish they were in love," said Grainstar. He usually tried to steer clear of other's personal affairs, but Toadstar looked as though he wanted to talk, and Grainstar was happy to oblige. He knew how hard it was to be leader, to have no one to talk with, to keep all those emotions bottled up for the good of the Clan. It was important to have an outlet. Spiderstar, on the rare occasions when he got to see her, had been his outlet.

The black tom shrugged. "She'll find it one day, I'm sure. Anyway, how about you?"

"Me?" Grainstar rumbled.

Toadstar nodded. "What are you remembering?"

It was a heavy question. A dozen things sprang to Grainstar's mind: sparring out here with Sleetpaw when they had both been apprentices, swimming in the stream with his sister, Sleetfur's face when he told Grainstar he would be a father, and that one fateful night when Spiderstar had visited RiverClan and he had taken her out here to show her the simply beauty of the sky and the water and all it meant to him.

He chose his words carefully. "I loved a she-cat too."

The black tom nodded again. "What happened to her?" he asked, voice soft.

Grainstar just stared out over the water, lending voice to the words that weighed like stones on his heart. "I don't know."

.

After awhile, Toadstar left, and Grainstar found himself alone once more, the night silent except for the gentle whispering of the reeds. It was hard to stop the memories from overtaking him and he closed his eyes, bathing in the feel of each one.

He and Sleetfur had been kits together. Grainkit's parents had died when he was very little; his mother from greencough and his father from a sickness that not even the medicine cat could identify. Sleetkit's parents had taken both Grainkit and his sister Maplekit in as their own, raising them until they were all old enough to become apprentices. Grainkit and Maplekit had been close, but it was him and Sleetkit who had truly been inseparable. They had once snuck out of camp together and come to this very stream, watching their reflections shimmer in the gently-moving water. "Wow," Sleetkit had said. Remembering it, Grainstar smiled. Wow.

They had been apprentices together too, had practiced together all the time and demanded that their mentors train them in tandem. The night before they were due for their warrior ceremony, they had come back out to the stream again and had made a solemn vow, invoking StarClan, to always be brothers. Then they had become Sleetfur and Grainheart respectively.

But he was skipping some things. He had been Grainpaw when he had first met her. It had been at a Gathering. She had been Spiderleaf of ThunderClan, the most beautiful cat he had ever seen. But they hadn't spoken then, and Grainpaw had kept quiet about his crush until they ran into each other many moons later, when she, deputy of her Clan, was tracking an errant apprentice who, in a fit of puppy love, had run to RiverClan to be with his crush. Grainheart had been a warrior then, and he had aided her in returning the young cat to his proper Clan. He had loved the feeling of just being around her. No other cat could compare.

Things changed and he became Grainstar, and she Spiderstar, and he hated that their love could never be possible. Their Clans didn't even border each other, and their responsibilities would never permit it. But when ThunderClan had needed to seek refuge from a forest fire, Grainstar had been the first to offer his camp as a place of sanctuary. ThunderClan had stayed with them for almost a moon, and during that time...

During that time, he and Spiderstar became very close. Grainstar squeezed his eyes shut, the memories painful now. Was she in StarClan now? He could only hope. One day, perhaps, he would see her again.

Sleetfur had become a father to a beautiful young she-kit, Mistkit. The white tom, tabby-pointed and blue-eyed, had been so proud. Grainstar had been proud with him. And then Mistkit had vanished, and then – and then...

Nothing.

He opened his eyes, and the night seemed to have lost all of its sheen, its lustre. A sadness came over him; the knowledge that Sleetfur and Spiderstar were gone, and that he had remained. Grainstar didn't know why he was still here, what purposes StarClan had for him, but he knew he would complete them to the best of his ability, if only to be re-united with his loved ones.

If only...

And as he sat there, his mind ached where he had once been able to feel Sleetfur's brush against it.

XX XX XX XX

A/N: First, I'd just like to say that I didn't go back to being inactive, but that I was on vacation for a week and while I got lots of writing done, I couldn't update at all! Now that I'm back though, updates galore! (:

This chapter turned out longer than I intended, but I guess that's for the best. I have the next couple of chapters written as well, so those updates should be quick. They'll be more plot-heavy than this chapter, which was a lot of character development and exposition, though it's foreshadowing a bunch of stuff... I've rewritten most of Grainstar's plot and I can say I'm a lot happier now. I think you guys are going to like what I do with him!

First of all, thanks to everyone who reviewed! You're all fantastic and I appreciate the support. That said, I'm only going to write replies to those who have asked questions and such, just to save space. If you feel as though you asked something and it went unanswered, feel free to send me a message!

Alyssu-Chan: Shh, don't jinx it ;)

Kitty Still Bites: Wow! I'm glad I could inspire you! I'll go check it out.

Senora Sapphire: Haha, Chantelle is definitely annoying. I love her as a character, but I don't like her very much. Blossom does like Branch - I was initially planning to have some romance with that in the first book, but it's not really relevant, so now it's just implied. And the mind-link is still there, don't worry!

Next chapter is Fogpaw, and then after that there's Russet and Kitetail!

Thanks for reading and please review!

- PV :)