Hey all – I've gotten some reviews criticizing how I've been writing these stories (this one in particular). The fact is that yes, I do keep the books beside me while I write these stories – its so I can keep the events that happen straight, keep track of character arcs, and keep in dialogue I liked or edit stuff I didn't like or didn't work in my opinion. It's not precisely the best way of doing things but this project wasn't about changing the series entirely – just switching stuff out for fun and running with some of my own headcanons to see what happened.

Rising Storm is probably, honestly, the worst of the original series – nothing much happens of note (other than the fire) and for what I had planned there was little wiggle room for changes. The biggest ones for this book were that Runningwind and Thornpaw died – for the changes I had planned, too much needed to stay the same. Looking back, I didn't think through every event as best as I could when I started this, which is why Rising Storm has come out so… samey and, frankly, skippable (sort of like the original, lol).

I've got the rest of this one written, so it'll update 'till the end like normal. But the payoff for almost all of my changes will come in A Dangerous Path, surprisingly, so I'll be changing up the way I write these with that one.

I'm sorry if I've disappointed any of you readers with these stories, or just this one in particular – it's my job to entertain and I can honestly say that I dropped the ball here.

Thanks for reading anyway - Twilight

Chapter 28

Tinyclaw didn't know how long he lay with Yellowfang, pressed into her cold fur as if trying to warm her back to life. The sadness of her death pricked at his heart, but her words had eased his guilt. Yellowfang wouldn't have wanted him to feel guilty for this – she would want him to carry on, stronger than before. Stop grieving for the long-lost, she would have said, the living need your attention now.

"She will be safe with us," whispered a voice. A sweet scent touched Tinyclaw's nose, and it took him a long time to place it – Spottedleaf, the ThunderClan medicine cat before Yellowfang. He'd only known her for a brief time before she was killed by the former ShadowClan warrior Clawface in battle. Tinyclaw could see her faint outline in the entrance of the fern tunnel, shafts of sunlight shining through her starry tortoiseshell pelt. Beside her hulked a large, rumpled figure…

"Yellowfang," he whispered.

Yellowfang's spirit was as faint as Spottedleaf's, but Tinyclaw could see he grin and hear her purr in his ear. Happiness soared in Tinyclaw's heart – Yellowfang would go to StarClan. Spottedleaf was guiding her to the stars.

"Tinyclaw?" Another shape appeared in the fern tunnel – Graystripe. He blundered into Spottedleaf and Yellowfang's forms, causing them to disappear. He didn't seem to know they were there. Graystripe's eyes gleamed in the gloom of the medicine cat's cavern until he spotted Tinyclaw huddled in the crack of the rock. "StarClan! There you are – you blend right in, you know that?"

"Sorry," Tinyclaw rasped. He padded out of the den. The forest all around was quiet in the evening – night would come soon. If they were to make it back to RiverClan territory by moonrise as promised, they'd have to get going soon. "Yellowfang is dead."

"I thought so," Graystripe sighed. "I'm sure she didn't go without chewing out the flames for being too hot, first."

"I hope so," Tinyclaw agreed.

"I buried Halftail," Graystripe went on. "Should we bury Yellowfang as well?"

"Not yet," Tinyclaw decided. "She was a warrior as well as a medicine cat – she deserves her night's vigil and being buried in dawn's light."

Graystripe frowned. "We promised Crookedstar we'd be back by moonrise."

Tinyclaw looked back, picking out Yellowfang's shape in the darkness of her den. "Don't worry – we'll go back to RiverClan; but I'll come back to sit with her."

The trek through the devastated forest was silent. Graystripe and Tinyclaw arrived at the RiverClan camp just as the sun was beginning to set, with cats gathered around the edges of the clearing to share tongues and eat. Not so different from ThunderClan, Tinyclaw decided.

Brackenfur met them at the entrance, limping over from where he'd lain beside Tigerstar and Whitestorm. Tigerstar got to his paws, too, following behind the limping medicine cat. His amber eyes lay on Tinyclaw, full of curiosity.

"You didn't find them, did you?" Brackenfur guessed.

Tinyclaw swallowed, glancing at Graystripe. Then, he locked eyes with Brackenfur. "Halftail and Yellowfang are both dead."

Brackenfur only sighed. "I thought so," he murmured. "I felt… something, earlier. Just before you came. A voice in my ear, saying good-bye. StarClan light their path."

"Dead?" echoed Tigerstar. The curiosity in his eyes hardened, and Tinyclaw held his breath. "This fire… StarClan sent it to destroy us!"

"That's not true," Brackenfur insisted.

"Brackenfur is right," Tinyclaw meowed, taking a step towards Tigerstar. "A fire is a fire – StarClan wouldn't do something like this."

Tigerstar's eyes were cold and hard. "You don't know that," he insisted.

Tinyclaw swallowed hard. Was his leader truly sinking so deep into his depression that he was beginning to think StarClan was against them? How could Tinyclaw make him see that this was all just unfortunate circumstance? I won't be able to, he realized dimly. Tigerstar is so wrapped up in his own mind that I don't think I'll ever be able to get through to him… but I won't stop trying.

"We're leaving tonight," Tigerstar decided firmly.

"The woods are empty," Graystripe insisted, shock in his eyes. "The camp is ruined!"

"We will make do," Tigerstar growled, meeting Graystripe's eyes. "We are strangers here, and our presence will only hurt RiverClan as time goes on."

Graystripe's ears twitched. "Maybe I could escort you?"

"Why would we need an escort through our own territory?" Tigerstar wondered. His voice was low, a dangerous sound.

"I could stay a few days… help you rebuild, maybe, and…"

Graystripe had no idea of his former leader's mental state. Tinyclaw opened his jaws to stop him, but realized suddenly that Graystripe was more than just homesick. He wanted to come back to the forest where he'd been born and belonged. Tinyclaw's heart sank.

Tigerstar's eyes flashed. "You cannot return to ThunderClan," he growled. Graystripe flinched. "You made your choice, Graystripe. You chose to stay with your mate and your kits. You made your choice and now you will live with it!"

Within that growl Tinyclaw could hear insistence. Tigerstar's mind may have been faltering but the massive tom knew the similarities between him and the gray warrior. Tigerstar's own kits, Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, lived here, in RiverClan. Tigerstar had never known of them until recently. Graystripe had the chance to make better choices.

Tigerstar turned about and shouted: "ThunderClan! We are leaving at once!"

While the Clan got to their paws, shocked at the suddenness of the news, Tinyclaw turned to Graystripe. The gray warrior was staring at Tigerstar, eyes wide, stunned off his paws.

"He has his reasons," Tinyclaw insisted. "He's in a lot of pain right now; he'll recover."

Graystripe swallowed. "You think so?"

Tinyclaw blinked at his friend, and then looked past him. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt had been sharing tongues, but the two sat up to look over at the ThunderClan cats. Between them, their mother, Goldenflower, Tigerstar's old mate, sat. The golden-pelted she-cat was looking evenly at Tigerstar, her eyes filled with old emotions. Her kits watched only as warriors, unaware of Tigerstar's importance.

Tigerstar has had to stay here among family that doesn't even know or acknowledge him, Tinyclaw realized suddenly. No wonder he wants to leave so suddenly. Tinyclaw couldn't even imagine how that felt.

"Yes, Graystripe, I do," Tinyclaw replied, turning to lick Graystripe's shoulder. "Do you… really want to come home, Graystripe?"

The gray warrior faltered. "I… I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I miss ThunderClan with all my heart but my kits… Silverstream… I don't know if I could bear being apart from them. I just. This past little bit has my head spinning, you know? I wish…"

"Wish what?"

"That I could come back – but bring Silverstream and the kits, too," Graystripe sighed. "That won't work, though. I… He's right. I made my choice, Tinyclaw. ThunderClan will always be in my heart and will always be my home… but my kits need to know their father. I didn't know mine."

Tinyclaw nodded, though his heart hurt. He hoped Graystripe's ties to ThunderClan wouldn't get him into trouble within RiverClan. Crookedstar, at least, seemed more easygoing about things.

"They're going to leave without you," Graystripe realized.

Tinyclaw sighed. Tigerstar had all of ThunderClan on their paws and lined up to leave. Tinyclaw murmured good-bye to his friend, touching muzzles one last time before heading over to Tigerstar's side. The big tabby had Crookedstar and Leopardfur before him, talking quietly.

"… ThunderClan owes you a debt, Crookedstar," Tigerstar was saying. "Thank you for sheltering us."

"I did only what any good cat ought to," Crookedstar meowed, nodding to Tigerstar. "Fire is a danger to every cat. Safe journey, Tigerstar."

Tigerstar nodded and turned away. Tinyclaw followed, but not before seeing Leopardfur's eyes narrow at Tigerstar thoughtfully. Crookedstar might be easygoing, but Leopardfur was ambitious. The mention of a debt would no doubt make ideas float to the surface of her mind. What would she ask for in return? Tinyclaw feared to guess.

Tinyclaw followed his Clanmates as they filed out of RiverClan's camp one-by-one. Finally, it was his turn – he pushed through the reeds and rushes and out into the open, feeling Graystripe's pain-filled eyes on him every step of the way.

"Hurry up!"

Smallear started at Tigerstar's shout. Tinyclaw sighed. The poor old tom was still balking at the water's edge in an echo of his performance during the Clan's escape. In his defense, the river had swollen from the rain – but Whitestorm and Longtail were waiting on the opposite bank, giving encouragement to the others.

All in all, despite the rush, the Clan was doing much better than they had before – Sandstorm was helping Brackenfur across, while Dustpelt and Cinderpelt helped the apprentices. Oakheart waded with the queens, Mosskit in his jaws.

Finally, Smallear sighed and stepped into the water. Whitestorm met him halfway, buoying up the elder with his shoulder and to the other side. Tigerstar slipped in afterward, paws churning strongly, as if the fire had burned away his weakness. Tinyclaw waded in after him, the last of his Clan to leave RiverClan territory.

Tinyclaw pulled himself up onto the shore, his pelt uncomfortably soaked. He shook his coat out and padded over to the others. Tinyclaw met Sandstorm and Brackenfur amongst the crowd, touching noses with Brackenfur and licking Sandstorm between the ears, delighted by her purr in response. Despite the ashen gloom of the forest now, at least he still had her.

The Clan seemed shocked at the sight of their blackened, burned home. Most stood at the bank of the river, eyes wide as they took it all in. The faint moonlight didn't disguise the destruction – in fact, it accentuated the barren landscape, making the leafless trees look like tall, imposing creatures waiting for them in the depths. Tinyclaw could hear his Clanmates murmuring, unsettled.

"It's awful," Sandstorm murmured, sorrow in her eyes. "I can't believe it."

The smell of burnt leaves and scorched earth filled the air. "I know," Tinyclaw agreed.

Tigerstar seemed blind to the destruction. The big tabby tom strode through the blackened undergrowth and up the trail to Sunningrocks and home. The Clan could do nothing but follow, wet fur gleaming in the half light.

"It's like… being somewhere else," Cloudpaw remarked, coming up beside Tinyclaw as they walked. "Like a nightmare."

Tinyclaw didn't think that Cloudpaw had ever been more right about anything in her life. He could only nod. "How are the elders?"

"Grieving, but I managed to get them to eat some fresh-kill while you were gone," Cloudpaw replied.

"Thank you," Tinyclaw meowed. "For that, and for staying when I told you to."

"No problem," Cloudpaw chirped.

Tinyclaw watched her slip through the crowd and up to the other apprentices. Fernpaw looked sullen and Ashpaw seemed to want nothing more than to stare right ahead. Brightpaw and Swiftpaw huddled with Cloudpaw in quiet conversation. They'd lost so much recently – a denmate first, and now the forest itself. Still, Tinyclaw was grateful that Cloudpaw seemed to finally be learning some compassion.

The ravine lay open and barren before them before too long. Tinyclaw spotted Sandstorm trembling as she looked over the edge and into the exposed camp. He stayed by her side as they followed the Clan in picking their way down the slope and into the camp. Tinyclaw felt cold, and not just from his once-damp fur. The solemnity of the moment lay on his shoulders like a stifling Twoleg blanket.

Slowly the Clan filtered into the blackened, barren openness of their camp. Shocked mews quieted when it was discovered instantly just how the leaves had once muffled all sound. Tigerstar seemed not to see any of it, striding towards the Highrock and then turning to demand, "Take me to Yellowfang's body!"

Tinyclaw flinched. There was something about the sharpness of Tigerstar's tone that Tinyclaw didn't like – this wasn't the gentle giant of a leader he'd known as an apprentice, nor the shell of a cat that had been on display as of late. Tinyclaw had no idea what was going on in Tigerstar's head any longer, and that frightened him more than any enemy. Still, he obeyed, leading Tigerstar towards the medicine cat's clearing. No cat followed but Brackenfur, who limped behind Tigerstar quietly.

"She's in her den," Tinyclaw reported, stopping himself at the shadows of the great split rock. Tigerstar huffed and pushed his way inside. Brackenfur did not follow, and Tinyclaw gave him a confused look.

"I will grieve later," Brackenfur stated simply, quietly. "Tigerstar needs us now. This will not be easy."

There was great composure in Brackenfur's voice, and Tinyclaw was not surprised. Brackenfur had always been far more patient and easygoing than his sister, who might have had trouble overcoming such grief. Tinyclaw felt a twinge of pride for his former apprentice.

But he was right – a thin wailing started from the den, and Tigerstar staggered out, eyes wide with grief and sorrow. His legs shook, his tail dragging the ground. "How could they do this?" he whispered in a panic. "Have they no pity? So much… they have taken so much…"

Tigerstar spat on the ground. "I will never go to the Moonstone again," he declared, his voice a powerful growl. "StarClan has declared war on my Clan, killing our cats and setting our home ablaze! Never again will they share my dreams – and I will never forgive them for this!"

Tinyclaw's eyes widened in shock, legs locked in horror. Behind them, Brackenfur slipped quietly into the medicine cat's den – not to grieve for Yellowfang, but to come out a moment later with something in his jaws. He laid it at Tigerstar's paws.

"Eat these, Tigerstar," he asked gently. "They will ease your pain."

Tinyclaw blinked as Tigerstar began to quietly lap up the leaves and seeds. He looked to Brackenfur, confused: "He's not injured, though."

"In a way, he is," Brackenfur stated quietly. "Cats can receive more than just physical injuries – Yellowfang was teaching me about them before…" he trailed off, but continued a heartbeat later – "anyway, what Tigerstar is suffering is something like having thorns wrapped around your heart. They're hard to remove but the pain can be lessened."

Tinyclaw blinked. "That makes… sense," he admitted.

"Yellowfang had a way with describing ailments," Brackenfur breathed. "Like she could feel them herself, almost. She had a ways of making someone understand."

Brackenfur brushed against Tigerstar who, thankfully, didn't seem to hear anything they'd said. Too caught up in his own mind for it. "Come," Brackenfur soothed him, "let's go rest."

Tigerstar let himself be led away by the golden-brown tabby tom, and when they emerged into the clearing Whitestorm was there to join them on their way. Tinyclaw sighed, and then turned into the medicine cat's den to retrieve Yellowfang.

He pulled her body into the clearing for her vigil, arranging her so that it looked like she was resting despite her blackened, furless paws and red-lined eyelids. There was a dignity to the pose, something like the old Yellowfang that made Tinyclaw wistful. Then, he tucked his paws beneath him and lay down to keep vigil.

There was nothing more to say to her, but she would rest beneath the stars one last time.

Brackenfur joined him as the moon began sliding down the sky. Three quarters, Tinyclaw thought. Almost time for a Gathering. The thought was subdued by the blackened treetops against the pink-and-purple skyline. These past few days felt like a lifetime; when had the last Gathering been? What had even happened?

"It's all gone," Tinyclaw murmured as he felt Brackenfur's body press against his. "The forest, Yellowfang…"

"Don't grieve too much," Brackenfur pointed out calmly. "Yellowfang rests with StarClan now, hunts in their forests and drinks of their water – and the forest will regrow, stronger than before. So will ThunderClan."

Brackenfur's faith was unwavering and soothing, and Tinyclaw was grateful for it. He got to his paws, giving Brackenfur a nod before going to check on the rest of his Clan. Cats dotted the edges of the clearing, huddled in the shadows of burned and bristling branches. Mousefur stood on guard outside Tigerstar's den, something that made Tinyclaw's head tilt.

"Brackenfur ordered it," Whitestorm murmured. "And I agree – Tigerstar's condition is wavering, and he needs someone to make sure he's all right."

Tinyclaw nodded in understanding. "It cannot fall to you all the time," he agreed.

The white warrior's eyes were red-rimmed from the fire, and no doubt some exhaustion. "Tigerstar is… important to me," he admitted. "Someone I care deeply for. Seeing him like this is… taxing."

Tinyclaw blinked in sympathy at the old warrior. You can say you love him, Whitestorm, he thought. I know Tigerstar feels similarly. I may be small, but I'm not blind.

"We need to send out a dawn patrol," Tinyclaw meowed. "This fire was bound to attract attention, and the borders haven't been renewed for a time. How is the Clan?"

"Tired," Whitestorm responded. "But most managed to get some sleep. Who will you send?"

"I'm thinking about it," Tinyclaw admitted. "There's so much to do. Rebuilding the camp, strengthening the borders, hunting… StarClan above, do we even have enough cats for any of it?"

Whitestorm's whiskers twitched. "We're about to find out."

"I want you here," Tinyclaw decided. "To help with organizing this."

"Of course," Whitestorm agreed. "Should we tell Tigerstar?"

"No, we'll let him rest," Tinyclaw meowed. "I'll address the Clan."

He turned and leaped onto the Highrock in a single bound, calling the familiar summons as he reached its peak. The Clan gathered slowly, looking up at him in confusion as he called them from the place where the leader should be standing. Tinyclaw planted his paws. I'm not taking Tigerstar's place, I'm simply doing what must be done. As he had always done.

"We must rebuild," he announced to those gathered below. All eyes were on him. "Each cat needs to do their part – this will be a long process, but in the end, ThunderClan will be far stronger for it. Greenleaf is not yet over; the forest has time to grow back more lush than before." Brackenfur's eyes flashed from below as Tinyclaw echoed his words.

"Where is Tigerstar?" Longtail wondered. "Shouldn't he be telling us this?"

It wasn't a challenge like it would have been long before Bluefur, but a concerned question. "He's resting," Tinyclaw responded. "He needs to rest and recover." The Clan clamored worriedly.

"The more time he has to rest, the quicker he will get better," Brackenfur added, his voice patiently rising above the worries. "Like the forest."

"The forest is empty," Brindleface pointed out. "I don't know about you, but I smelled not a hint of prey as we returned! What will we eat?" The Clan was clamoring again, cats looking at one another and at Tinyclaw as if he had all the answers.

"The prey will come back," Tinyclaw insisted. "We must hunt as usual, but we'll have to range further than before. There have to be parts of the territory where the fire didn't touch as badly. We will do everything we can to feed the Clan." Murmurs of agreement rose from within the crowd. Tinyclaw felt a surge of confidence as it seemed like they were calming down.

"Longtail, Fernpaw, Oakheart, and Cinderpelt – you will take the dawn patrol," Tinyclaw decided. "Swiftpaw, you will replace Mousefur on guard duty and make sure that Tigerstar is not disturbed. Whitestorm will organize parties to gather materials to rebuild the camp. Dustpelt, you will organize cats to start building up the broken dens and the boundaries."

"How?" Dustpelt wondered. "I'm good with my paws, sure; but the ferns are all burned away."

"We'll have to use everything at our disposal," Tinyclaw admitted. "We'll need to be creative – just don't forget to make it strong. Bluefur is still out there, and this fire has no doubt painted a target on us from the other Clans, too. We need to be alert – all kits stay in camp, and apprentices don't go out without their mentors or another warrior. No one goes into the forest alone. Understood?"

Loud mews of agreement rose from the Clan below.

"Good!" Tinyclaw called. "Now, let's get to work!"

The cats broke apart, weaving around one another to get on to their duties. Unassigned cats went to Whitestorm and Dustpelt for instructions. Tinyclaw padded down the Highrock, breathing a sigh of relief – that went far better than he'd hoped. Speaking to the Clan was nothing compared to the way tight, cramped placed made him feel.

He approached Sandstorm after he leaped off of the Highrock. "We need to organize a party to bury Yellowfang," he told her.

"You didn't mention her death at all," Sandstorm pointed out, eyes filled with confusion. Cloudpaw, beside her, added, "Or Halftail's!" Tinyclaw's apprentice scrutinized him as if he'd done something reproachful.

Tinyclaw swallowed. "I didn't see much point – the Clan knows they're dead. Brackenfur's already said the proper words."

"And Tigerstar?" Sandstorm wondered. Cloudpaw sighed and stalked off to Whitestorm, clearly unsatisfied by Tinyclaw's words. "What if he doesn't recover?"

Tinyclaw frowned. "I don't… I don't know, Sandstorm," he breathed. He looked into her green eyes, questioning and concerned. She wasn't a leader in this Clan – just a warrior. She only knew what she was told when it came to Tigerstar. "This is… a lot harder than it ever seemed."

Sandstorm's eyes softened. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you're under a lot of pressure – but we're all so worried about Tigerstar. Something's wrong, and we aren't kits, you know. We've noticed his… behavior."

"I'm doing my best," Tinyclaw told her. "Please… trust that."

"I do," Sandstorm meowed. "I trust you, Tinyclaw. I'll go find cats to help bury Yellowfang."

She brushed her muzzle against his, and Tinyclaw breathed in her scent. It filled him with the energy he needed, and her words warmed his heart despite the fear they brought. The Clan would notice sooner or later that Tigerstar was absent, and no doubt they were beginning to ask questions themselves as the excuses began to pile up. Tigerstar was ill – there was no doubt about that, but…

… what if Tigerstar never recovered?