Chapter 2

Tinyclaw saw a ripple of dark fur, and looked up to see Oakheart slip out of the nursery just behind his gray-blue kit. Another tumbled out on his big paws, a lighter gray than his sisters, and from Oakheart's mouth dangled the youngest, white and patched with gray. Oakheart set down his daughter and sat down behind his kits, nudging them into one area with one of his light-colored paws.

Guilt flooded over Tinyclaw like river water. Oakheart did not seem to notice him there, staring at Mistykit like she was Bluefur herself – but how could Tinyclaw possibly think such dark thoughts? He was Clan deputy – these kits looked up to him as much as every other cat did, probably more! They needed to know that they would be loved and cared for here, regardless of their parentage.

Before Oakheart noticed him standing there like a bird, Tinyclaw managed, "Your kits look healthy." He couldn't help but feel his fur prickling at Mistykit's gaze, though – so blue, so much like her mother's… Yet there's more emotion in those eyes than I'd ever seen from Bluefur.

Oakheart looked up, and his eyes studied Tinyclaw. Tinyclaw did his best not to flinch at the harsh gaze – Oakheart had little else for anyone but his kits right now. Bluefur had been his mate and his best friend, the mother of the three kits he had gathered between his paws, kits he loved more than life itself. Of any cat, Oakheart knew what these kits would face, and Tinyclaw knew he would not allow anyone to give them a hard time – especially not Tinyclaw.

But instead of reprimanding Tinyclaw for staring, Oakheart bent his head and licked Mosskit between her patchy ears. "It's Mosskit's first time out of the nursery," he meowed.

Tinyclaw swallowed. "They've grown so fast…" Not long ago the kits had been squirming at their mother's belly. At the thought of Bluefur, Tinyclaw's tail gave a twist.

Oakheart, of course, noticed that. His ear flicked, then he got to his paws and padded over to Tinyclaw, until they were nose-to-nose. Tinyclaw forced himself to stand his ground – Oakheart was twice his size and strength, but Tinyclaw was deputy.

"I know how you feel, Tinyclaw," Oakheart meowed quietly. His eyes flashed. "You were always rather transparent – but these are my kits, and they are all I have. I will die to protect them if I must."

"I know," Tinyclaw replied, just as quiet.

"The Clan will never forgive her," Oakheart did not even say Bluefur's name anymore, "nor should they. What she did was horrible; but these kits have done nothing wrong. I will not see them punished for her mistakes."

The tom tensed. Tinyclaw glanced at the kits – now in a tumbling pile of themselves – and then looked back to Oakheart. Cautiously, he wondered, "What will you tell them, when they ask?"

Oakheart sighed. "I'm not sure," he admitted. His eyes darkened with emotion. "It's inevitable that they'll ask… Perhaps I'll say just that their mother was brave and strong, and that she died fighting for her Clan."

Tinyclaw felt a rush of sympathy for Oakheart. The tom had not been able to do his warrior duties properly since Bluefur was exiled – he'd been staying with his kits, spending almost every moment he could with them. Tinyclaw wished there was something he could do for him, something to bring the old Oakheart back – the cat who was just as much as strong and wise as Whitestorm.

"They will be safe here, Oakheart," Tinyclaw assured him.

Oakheart turned away, not seeming to hear Tinyclaw. He ushered the kits up onto their paws, nudging them along with one of his paws. The group padded off into the clearing, probably to tour the camp. Just as Oakheart left, though, Whitestorm appeared, squeezing out of the nursery.

Whitestorm watched Oakheart go for a moment, then sighed and turned to Tinyclaw. "Brindleface says its time her kits were apprenticed," he meowed.

Tinyclaw pushed Oakheart and the kits out of his thoughts. "Of course," he agreed. The kits were just as old as Cloudpaw, if not older. "Does Tigerstar know?"

Whitestorm shook his head. "Brindleface wanted to tell him herself, but he hasn't been out of his den in several days," the white warrior replied.

Tinyclaw frowned. Though Tigerstar was the first to admit that the nursery was not his area of expertise, he was Clan leader – taking an interest in Clan life was his job. Tinyclaw suppressed a sigh, knowing for himself how right Whitestorm was. Tigerstar hadn't left his den for at least two days.

"It's understandable," Whitestorm offered when Tinyclaw did not speak. "He is still recovering from the battle with the rogues."

Tinyclaw almost flinched at that, knowing as well as Whitestorm did that Tigerstar's physical wounds were healed. What remained, though… the wounds on Tigerstar's heart were still there, open and sore as ever. Both warriors knew that Tigerstar sometimes found it hard to even leave his nest.

"Shall I go tell him?" Tinyclaw offered.

"Of course," Whitestorm agreed. "That ought to cheer him up, I think."

"I'm sure it will," Tinyclaw assured him. "ThunderClan hasn't had this many apprentices in moons! The other Clans will be jealous."

Whitestorm nodded in agreement. Then, he asked, "Speaking of apprentices, where is Cloudpaw? I thought he was fetching prey for the elders?"

Tinyclaw did flinch at that. Awkwardly, he meowed, "Y-Yes, she is… I don't know what's taking her so long…"

Whitestorm idly licked his chest fur. "The woods are not as safe as they once were," he meowed quietly. "Don't forget that ShadowClan and WindClan are still upset with us for sheltering Brokentail. They don't yet know that Brokentail is dead… and they might attack again."

Tinyclaw nodded in grim agreement. Brokentail had been Brokenstar once, leader of ShadowClan. As leader he'd done heinous things, killing kits and casting out warriors for being too old for fighting. He'd driven out WindClan, leaving the moors empty for his Clan to hunt in. He had attacked ThunderClan after being driven out of ShadowClan, but was blinded and crippled, and taken in as a prisoner out of mercy – a decision ShadowClan and WindClan had not been happy about.

He's dead, now, Tinyclaw thought. Bluefur had used Brokentail's rogues to attack ThunderClan during a time when they were defenseless – during the fighting Brokentail had lost a life, and Yellowfang had dragged him away to recover. Yellowfang did not know, but Tinyclaw had watched her kill Brokentail with her own paws, and the aid of deadly deathberries – a hard task, considering that Brokentail had been her own son.

Yet Tinyclaw knew that Whitestorm was not just speaking of angry Clans, but Bluefur too. The traitor was still out there, somewhere. The whole Clan knew it. Yet Tinyclaw could not help but be defensive: "You let Swiftpaw out on his own this morning."

"Yes," Whitestorm affirmed mildly, "but I told him to stay in the ravine and be back before sunhigh." There was concern in Whitestorm's pale yellow eyes. "I hope she comes back before too long, for her own sake."

Tinyclaw looked away. "I'm going to talk to Tigerstar," he mumbled.

"Good," Whitestorm agreed. "I'll take Swiftpaw out for some training. His fighting skills are sharp, but I know his hunting isn't as good as it could get."

Tinyclaw turned away before Whitestorm got to his paws. Silently cursing Cloudpaw, Tinyclaw headed for Tigerstar's den in the Highrock. Before entering the lichen-draped den, Tinyclaw gave himself a quick wash and put Cloudpaw out of his mind. Then, he announced himself and entered.

Tigerstar's den was cool, but seemed stuffy despite the changed moss. The walls were smooth, hollowed out by an old stream long ago. In the middle, on scattered sand and moss, was Tigerstar, settled in his nest. His dark fur was matted and unkempt. From wounds, or from apathy? Tinyclaw pushed the thought away.

He took a quiet sniff. No fresh-kill scent, he thought. Tigerstar hasn't eaten yet today, and he didn't eat last night, either. Worry prickled Tinyclaw's pelt. Tigerstar had been the pinnacle of bravery and strength, but now he was hunched in his nest like a duck, staring at nothing.

Yet when Tinyclaw approached, Tigerstar's head rose, and his eyes sparkled with a little interest. He looked tired, despite being in his nest for most of the day.

"Tigerstar," Tinyclaw began respectfully, bowing his head. "Brindleface says that her kits are ready to become apprentices."

"Already?" Tigerstar murmured.

Tinyclaw waited for him to announce when the ceremony would be, and the other necessary features of the rite – but nothing came.

Coughing gently, Tinyclaw asked, "Any… idea who their mentors will be?"

"Mentors…" Tigerstar echoed.

Tinyclaw swallowed. That tone… that's not a good tone.

Tigerstar's neck fur bristled and he spat, his tone full of misery, "Is there anyone in this Clan who can be trusted with them?"

Tinyclaw was too stunned to answer. Tigerstar's eyes, sharp like flint, glared at him. "Can you take them? Or Graystripe?"

Pushing his shock away, Tinyclaw shook his head. Just take things as they come, he told himself. He doesn't remember Graystripe isn't part of ThunderClan anymore! He pushed it all away and composed himself. He told Tigerstar firmly, "I'm training Cloudpaw, Tigerstar. I can't take another apprentice."

Tigerstar was still fuming, amber eyes wide. Tinyclaw continued, "Tigerstar, the only warriors who weren't fit to train these kits were Bluefur and Darkstripe – they're gone now. They're gone for good, and they won't be training any ThunderClan kits ever again." He searched Tigerstar for a reaction – but the warrior was shivering a little and staring at nothing. Tinyclaw went on, "Brindleface was hoping for a ceremony soon – the kits are too big for the nursery, and they're older than Cloudpaw!"

Finally, Tigerstar seemed to come back to himself. He shook his head briskly. Tinyclaw felt relief flood over him as his leader's tabby pelt lay flat again. "We'll have the ceremony before we eat this evening," he decided certainly.

"And their mentors?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Suddenly Tigerstar stiffened. Eyes hard, he stared at Tinyclaw. "You decide," he meowed tersely.

Tinyclaw frowned, but Tigerstar needed no more pushing. Bowing his head, he excused himself from the den.

Outside, in the shade of the Highrock, Tinyclaw sat down to wash. He doesn't trust us, he thought, his paws trembling a little. Of course he wouldn't – no cat knew of Bluefur but me, and no cat truly knows how deep it all went. But he can't say things like that!

He shook himself. It'd only been a quarter-moon since the attack, and anxiety still plagued the whole Clan, not just Tigerstar. Perhaps it would fade, given time? Most things did. I just have to make it seem like Tigerstar is still the same cat he was before, or the whole Clan will be panicking… and that won't go away!

But me, choosing mentors? Tinyclaw trembled more at the thought. That's mouse-brained! What do I know about choosing a mentor?

He got to his paws and headed for the nursery. Time was ticking, and evening was not far away. There wouldn't be a ceremony if no one knew about it, and there definitely would be quite a lot of anger on his head if Tinyclaw didn't pick mentors before then. Willowpelt was resting just outside the nursery, still sunning. When Tinyclaw approached, she raised her head.

"Hey," she mewed sleepily. "How's life as deputy?"

Her tone was not challenging – most cats seemed all right with Tinyclaw's status now, aside from Dustpelt and the more superstitious ones. Tinyclaw nodded to her and replied, "It's going well. Where's Brindleface?"

"Inside," Willowpelt offered, flicking her tail at the nursery.

Tinyclaw nodded and padded inside. It was dark in the nursery, the only light coming in from the tiniest gaps in the brambles and the entrance itself, casting warm yellow shafts along the moss-lined floor. Tinyclaw noted the holes and knew they'd need to be patched before leaf-fall.

Brindleface looked up when he entered, her kits – as big as Cloudpaw – scrambling over and over one another. She looked relieved at the sight of him.

"Good news," Tinyclaw offered, keeping his voice low. "The ceremony will be this evening."

Brindleface's eyes widened. "Wonderful!" she breathed. She nodded at her kits, still tumbling around. "Those two are far too big for the nursery, and they want to be apprentices with Cloudpaw more than anything!"

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. The kits were too big, that was for sure. Brindleface went on, "Do you know who their mentors will be?"

Swallowing, Tinyclaw shook his head and wondered, trying to be casual, "Do… you have any recommendations?"

Brindleface frowned, but she shook her head. "No," she insisted, "Tigerstar will know best."

Helpful, Tinyclaw remarked to himself. He sighed. "You're right," he agreed heavily.

A breeze stirred outside, filtering through the holes and carrying the scent of Bluefur's kits to Tinyclaw's nose. He stiffened, and he wondered to Brindleface, "Where's Oakheart and the kits?"

"Gone to see the elders," Brindleface replied casually. She licked her side, then guessed, "You see Bluefur in Mistykit, don't you?"

Tinyclaw nodded uncomfortably.

"She's got her mother's looks, but that's all," Brindleface insisted gently. "She and Mosskit get into everything, poor Stonekit has to keep them in line."

"That's good," Tinyclaw decided. He turned away. "I'll see you at the ceremony." He headed out before another word could be said.

Outside, Willowpelt raised her head. "Does this mean the ceremony's been decided?" she wondered.

"Yes," Tinyclaw answered.

"Who will be their men -"

Tinyclaw sped up to a trot, moving out of Willowpelt's vocal range quickly. His pelt prickled – the news of the ceremony would spread through the camp like wildfire, and questions about the kits' mentors would be flying at him from every angle. There would be no escaping it – no time for Tinyclaw to actually decide who the mentors were.

Mind in a whirl, Tinyclaw's paws took him to the medicine cat's den, almost on instinct. The familiar scents and quiet flooded over him, calming him down one breath at a time. He brushed past the ferns and into the medicine clearing, where Yellowfang's apprentice, Brackenfur, was poking through some herbs.

Without Graystripe, Brackenfur was the closest thing Tinyclaw had to a best friend – Sandstorm came close, but she was not a cat he could talk about this with. If anyone could calm his nerves, it would be the medicine cats.

Tinyclaw slowed his pace and sighed at the edge of the clearing. It was nowhere as large as the clearing of the main camp, but it was lined with ferns and quiet, and at the back was a tall rock split in half, where Yellowfang made her den.

Brackenfur flicked his tail to Tinyclaw, getting to his paws. Tinyclaw frowned briefly, taking in Brackenfur's twisted, hairless back leg. An accident on the Thunderpath that would have claimed his sister Cinderpelt's life took Brackenfur's leg instead – it had been a trap, laid by Bluefur for Tigerstar. That Bluefur had gotten away with something so horrible still made Tinyclaw angry.

"What's up?" Brackenfur wondered. "Are you feeling well?"

"No," Tinyclaw replied. He padded over to Brackenfur and touched noses with the tom. "I need your help, though."

"Of course," Brackenfur offered. He sat back down, his leg sticking out awkwardly. "Anything."

Tinyclaw sat down, curling his tail over his paws. He took a deep breath, but instead of spilling his worries he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Me?" Brackenfur wondered. He flicked his tail. "Well, I mixed up some herbs for a poultice and Yellowfang called me a danger to the Clan… but that's about it," he meowed. "Nothing's happened since that bird omen."

Tinyclaw's stomach churned. The bird was going to be a meal for Tigerstar, but when it was picked up it fell apart into a mess of rot and maggots. "Did you ever puzzle out what it meant?" Tinyclaw asked.

Brackenfur sighed. "No," he admitted. "It could have been everything, but it could have been nothing. I feel like I should have had a stronger feeling about what it meant, you know? It bothers me, sometimes, not knowing for sure."

"There's no way you'd be able to know for sure," Tinyclaw insisted. "I don't know much about signs from StarClan, but aren't they… vague?"

"Yellowfang said that," Brackenfur sighed. "She also said that it comes with time – but StarClan chose this path for me, Tinyclaw." He lifted his leg to emphasize. "Why would they do that, and then send a sign that I can't read?"

"You've done so much good, though!" Tinyclaw breathed. "Brackenfur, you can't let it all hinge on signs – your skill with herbs is phenomenal! You saved Silverstream! Even Yellowfang admitted that it was a slim chance!"

"I know," Brackenfur sighed. He smiled slightly. "And I'm proud of that, I am – but signs are just as much part of what a medicine cat does as saving cats lives is. I need to be able to do both." But he shook himself and insisted, "I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth – so what did you want to talk about?"

"A few things," Tinyclaw admitted. He sighed and admitted, "Mistykit."

Brackenfur cocked an ear. He guessed, "Because she looks like Bluefur?"

Tinyclaw nodded.

"It's only in appearance," Brackenfur assured Tinyclaw. "On the outside she looks like Bluefur, sure – but all the kits sort of do. Each one of them has a piece of Oakheart in them too, remember… and Oakheart and the other queens are raising them. They won't see the world the way Bluefur did."

"You say that, but…" Tinyclaw sighed. "I know. I know. But when she looked at me, I was frozen. It was like Bluefur was right there, staring at me. Like… like…"

Brackenfur laid a tail along Tinyclaw's shoulders as the black tom shuddered. The golden-brown medicine cat offered, "I know, Tinyclaw – Bluefur was a bad cat. She did terrible things, not just to the Clan, but to you – but as Mistykit grows up and becomes her own cat, as they all do, you'll stop seeing things that way."

"You think?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Brackenfur nodded.

Tinyclaw sighed. "Thanks," he breathed.

"Anytime," Brackenfur agreed. "Now, what's your other issue?"

"I have to decide who is going to mentor Brindleface's kits," Tinyclaw told him. "Tigerstar asked me to do it."

Brackenfur's eyes widened. "How is that a problem?" he breathed. "That's an honor!"

"Maybe," Tinyclaw mewed, "but I'm not sure what to do about it. Who do I pick?"

"Well, any cat who already has an apprentice is out," Brackenfur pointed out. "So that leaves you with only a few choices, actually."

"Yes, but who is the best?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Brackenfur shrugged. "Being a mentor isn't about being the best at something – it's about what you can teach your apprentice, and what they can teach you."

Tinyclaw sighed. Yes, that sounded right. But he shuddered again and admitted, "My apprenticeship was bad, Brackenfur – what if I give the kits the wrong mentors, and their apprenticeships end up bad, too?"

Brackenfur rolled his eyes. "Tinyclaw – your mentor was Bluefur. She's gone, and no one in the Clan will ever mentor a cat like she did you. You have to trust in that."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement, then counted out the warriors who didn't have apprentices in his mind. Out loud, he offered, "I have Runningwind, Oakheart, Dustpelt, Sandstorm, and Cinderpelt who are free to take on an apprentice."

"Well, it's a start," Brackenfur agreed. "I'd rule out Runningwind, though – he's never wanted an apprentice, I don't think that will change now."

Tinyclaw nodded. Runningwind had expressed that more than once. He was fine as he was, and had admitted that the thought of having an apprentice made him nervous. "That leaves Oakheart, Dustpelt, Sandstorm, and Cinderpelt."

"Alright, then," Brackenfur decided. "Let's puzzle this out – Cinderpelt?"

Tinyclaw frowned. Brackenfur's sister was energetic and determined, but… "She's too young," Tinyclaw admitted. "She only just became a warrior not long ago – I don't think she can handle being a mentor so soon."

Brackenfur nodded in agreement.

"I wonder…" Tinyclaw murmured. Louder, he suggested, "Oakheart might be a good choice, I think."

"Oh?" Brackenfur tilted his head.

Tinyclaw nodded. "He's a great warrior, but he's been hurt recently. Maybe having an apprentice would help get him back on his paws? Give him something other than his kits to think about?"

Brackenfur nodded. "That sounds like a good reason," he agreed. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to care for your kits, but the queens can handle most of it. He'd still have free time to visit them all he liked, and he could still sleep in the nursery if he wanted. Tigerstar wouldn't take that from him."

"So, Oakheart," Tinyclaw decided, trying to sound more confident. Oakheart will work… I hope.

"Now, the other kit?" Brackenfur wondered. "You've still got Sandstorm and Dustpelt to choose between."

Now that was a hard choice. Both were well qualified, but there was only one kit left who needed a mentor. Choosing one would anger the other, for sure. Do I really have to decide which one I would rather have angry with me?

"If I might offer my opinion," Brackenfur began. Tinyclaw nodded, and he went on: "Dustpelt might be the better choice here."

"You think?"

Brackenfur nodded. "Of the two, he's the one who is itching for more responsibility, and more to do. He wants to feel important, and as you've seen he gets upset when he doesn't. Why not give him the honor of having an apprentice? It might get him to lay off of you a little."

Tinyclaw frowned. That's… a decent reason, actually. "I think you're right," he agreed. Sandstorm will be downhearted, but that won't last. She loves being free to do as she pleases right now. "Dustpelt it is."

Brackenfur's eyes lit up. "Well!" he huffed. "You seem to have made a very important, deputy-like decision!"

"Thanks to you," Tinyclaw chuckled, nudging him. "I think I might have panicked otherwise!"

Brackenfur beamed. "That's what I'm here for!"

"Oh?" rasped an annoyed voice, "Aren't you here to mix that poultice for me?" Yellowfang padded out of the cracked rock, her fur dusty with old herbs and her fur characteristically rankled. The flat-faced she-cat's orange eyes razed over the two toms, frowning.

Brackenfur started, then turned away from Tinyclaw. "Sorry! I'm on it!"

Yellowfang chuckled. She padded over to Tinyclaw and wondered, "So what's this about? I only caught bits."

Quickly, Tinyclaw explained what he'd come here for, and how Brackenfur had helped him. Tinyclaw left out the parts about Brackenfur's uncertainty and Tinyclaw's fears about Mistykit and her siblings, however. Yellowfang didn't need to know that.

"Well," Yellowfang chuckled. "Would you look at that? My apprentice is helping as if he was a true medicine cat, and you were the Clan's leader. How prophetic."

Tinyclaw chuckled at her words. "I won't be Clan leader for a long time, Yellowfang – if ever," he told her. And, honestly, I don't even want to think about that. He was one of a select few who knew that Tigerstar was on his last life. Let me figure out being deputy first!

Yellowfang's eyes flashed. "I suppose," she rasped. Then, she grunted, "Well, if you're not sick and that's all you came here for, you ought to be leaving! Just because there aren't any sick cats here now doesn't mean there won't be in a moment!"

"O-Of course," Tinyclaw stammered. He got to his paws, and added, "Thanks again, Brackenfur." Brackenfur only grunted, clearly concentrating on the root hastily stuffed into his jaws.

Tinyclaw padded out of the den, feeling a whole lot lighter – for now, at least. It was only a matter of time before he figured something had to happen.