This chapter took a long time to type! I hope you like it, I tried to add in some action and portray Sootpaw's struggles back at home.

Happy Daylight Saving's Time!

Fuzzystar of DuskClan: Wow, that's crazy! Happy birthday! :)

QLKwriter: Ah yes. Loathing! Unadulterated loathing! For your face (your voice!) your clothing! Let's just say, I loathe it all! Cinderpaw's and Sootpaw's names are coming soon!

walkswithwheels: I thought I'd split up the names a little and it was a little ironic that Rainsky thought he was the last to get his name, when really he was the first. I did the speech as the assessment because an assessment is meant to tell when a cat is mature and strong enough to become a warrior and I thought the speech exemplified Rainsky's maturity and strength better than tests of hunting and fighting. And you're right, I'll have to think about Sootpaw's naming ceremony...

ShadowHawk540: I never really liked musicals either, but Wicked still was pretty good! And I'm glad you liked Rainsky's name! :)

Willowdream of ForestClan: Yeah, I thought so too! ;) I also hate late nights, so I tried to get up early this morning. Then I realized I slept in an hour later than I wanted to because of daylight saving's time.

Nightfeather: Naw, Rainstrike would be for some Rainpaw who's actually good at fighting. ;) You saw that Loathing spoof too, did you? XD I saw blue and black-ish brown-ish. No, I haven't played World's Hardest Game or World's Easiest Game. I wonder if there are people out there who can beat World's Hardest Game?

SILVERKITTY: (as you signed your last review) Thank you! :) I spent a good deal of time thinking up the names for the trio.

Sootpaw's POV

Inspiration flared the moment I returned from my border patrol. "I want to see Aspentail, Larkwing, Stormtuft, and Sparrowtalon in my den at once!" I yowled, glancing around to make sure all cats I'd named were present. After confirming they were, I bounded up the Rockfall to my den to wait.

After several long moments, Stormtuft finally bounded into the den, the last to arrive. "Sorry," he panted, sitting between Aspentail and Sparrowtalon. "I was about to leave when I realized Birchkit and Lionkit had gotten into my herbs. I've got Goldenwing watching over the den now, making sure they can't get back in."

I nodded. "Very well." Standing, I continued, "Now that we're all here, I have a proposal to make." I hesitated for the dramatic effect, then meowed, "I want to start a spy network."

My words were immediately met with horrified expressions.

"Are you mad?" demanded Stormtuft.

"No way!" Larkwing insisted.

"We'd all die," Aspentail growled.

"Don't you dare!" Sparrowtalon warned.

"Okay, okay." I lowered my eyes in surrender, sitting back down. "Fine. No spy network. But I still think we should try to make a stand against NightClan."

"Why?" Aspentail growled. "It's stupid. It'd be a massacre."

"We need to show them we're not just this weak little Clan," I meowed, staring around earnestly at the four cats. "If we don't prove to them we can make a stand, they'll attack us. I'm surprised they haven't already done so. They could attack us at any time. We need to stun them into holding off for just a little longer until Rainpaw and Cinderpaw get back. Then we can defeat them once and for all."

Silence greeted my words, except for the sounds of excited squeals through the entrance as Molewhisker cared for his kits to give Amberwing a break. For a heartbeat, I wondered what it would be like to play with my father as a kit, free of all worries and responsibilities, but then I mentally shook myself. That wasn't my past, and if not for it I wouldn't be in the present today, where I needed to be. I pulled myself back just as Larkwing spoke.

"That is a good point," she conceded, "but it will be dangerous and there's always the chance some cat will end up… well, not coming back."

"There's always that chance," I meowed softly. "NightClan could attack any day now. If they do, then maybe a warrior would live, but one of Amberwing's kits could die in exchange."

"Well then, there's no choice," Sparrowtalon said matter-of-factly. "We have to initiate our own attack." He stared around at the other cats, his eyes hard. "I'll gladly give my life for the life of a kit."

Aspentail and Larkwing nodded. "We can't risk their lives," Larkwing murmured. She looked up at me. "Sparrowtalon's right. So are you, Sootpaw. We have to make the first move."

"So what are we going to do?" Stormtuft asked. "I'm no warrior. Why did you even call me to this meeting?"

"I called you so you could approve our plan," I said. "Do you have enough herbs for a raid on the NightClan camp? We will most certainly come back injured."

Stormtuft dipped his head. "I believe so, but Goldenwing and I will have to gather more herbs before then. Leaf-fall is here and Leaf-bare is on the way."

"Very well," I meowed. "Collect herbs this afternoon. Tonight we strike."

LINEBREAKLINELAKFLAKSDFLKJAHGKLAJHGKALSJDHFKSALJHFKALHFLKAHFKLASDFHLKSHF

The sun set quickly that night, giving way to a partially cloudy sky and a crescent moon to light the way. I sat in the camp beside Dawnpaw and Rustpelt, surveying the Clan and reviewing my decisions in my mind.

We were to have three patrols, all attacking at the same time to overwhelm the camp on three sides, climbing over the protective barriers and dropping on the sleeping heads of the NightClan warriors. Every cat had a partner they'd chosen to fight alongside. I'd originally wanted to be Dawnpaw's partner, but she seemed to think I'd spend the entire time trying to protect her and instead getting in her way, completely defeating the purpose of partner fighting in the first place. I had to admit she had a point. So Rustpelt was my partner.

The forest was dark as we left the camp, with only the moon and stars for light. I glanced back once before I slipped through the entrance, looking back at the cats left behind—Goldenwing, Molewhisker, Streamfrost, and Morningpaw. I recognized the apprentice's look of stubborn annoyance at being left behind—I'd seen it many times on my siblings' faces and used it a couple of times on my own, though not necessarily for being left behind.

The trek through the trees was long and dark. Several times I almost crashed straight into a tree trunk, saved only by my whiskers at the last second. As I stubbed my paw on a tough root sticking above the layer of slowly decaying leaves, I thought to myself, I can't wait to get to the NightClan camp. Of course, I wasn't thinking about what would happen when we actually got to the camp, or else I wouldn't be so eager to get there.

Whether I wanted to or not, my patrol reached the NightClan camp soon enough. I crouched in the sparse cover of the pine forest, my tail twitching over the soft needles covering the ground, waiting for a signal.

There. A slight chirping noise signaled Twigpaw's patrol had arrived. On my own patrol, Dawnpaw responded with the same noise and Twigpaw retreated to his patrol. Then, only a few heartbeats later, a second chirping noise came from the other side, this time made by Shadepaw. Again, Dawnpaw responded. We waited as Shadepaw returned to her patrol, all tense in the quiet night.

All patrols were in place. It was time to attack. So, standing up in the forest, I fixed my eyes on the camp entrance, barely visible through the trees ahead, my patrol doing the same around me. Rustpelt stood beside me, breathing deeply to contain his nerves. Dawnpaw and her mentor, Snowclaw, crouched behind us.

I couldn't wait any longer; the tense, strained atmosphere was clawing my nerves to shreds. Taking a deep breath of the chilly night air, I let out a loud, long, screechy wail.

As my voice rebounded through the trees, it was joined by voices from the other two patrols. In the entrance, the guard's claws were suddenly out as he stared around at the forest, searching for any sign of the enemy. I leaped forward, blood surging with my paws as I pounded forward, leaping through the air at the guard, unsheathing my claws just before I made contact.

The guard had no way to move either way to dodge my attack, as he had been standing in the entrance itself. I rammed into him, bowling him over as, together, we rolled into the clearing. All around me, I heard the sounds of my Clanmates' pawsteps as they climbed over the barriers, dropped from pine trees above, or wriggled through the entrance behind me.

The tom ripped me off of him with a powerful kick to my belly with his hind legs. I landed slightly off-balance, wheezing as I tried to get my breath back, expecting at any moment to feel sharp claws grabbing at my fur, kneading it to shreds. But I didn't.

Glancing up, I saw Rustpelt locked in combat with the tom, teeth bared in a snarl as he dodged a blow to the face before sinking his teeth into his enemy's chest. The NightClan warrior howled in pain and pushed Rustpelt away before turning to me, but by that time I'd finally gotten my breath back.

Side by side, Rustpelt and I leaped at the tom. His eyes widened at our synchronized movements, falling back easily under our rain of blows. When he finally tried to swipe at us in defense, I ducked while Rustpelt dodged to sink his teeth into the cat's paw. And that was the end of the fight. Yowling, the tom raced off into the forest, no doubt heading off to hide somewhere for the rest of the night. Grinning at Rustpelt, I turned to face the clearing.

It was heaving with cats already. I spotted my Clanmates, all working in pairs, most beating back the scattered, disorganized NightClan warriors with ease. I smiled proudly at how my ideas were working, or at least I did until I realized how many cats really weren't doing so well.

Rushing forward, Rustpelt beside me, we launched ourselves onto the backs of two of the three NightClan warriors who were ganging up on Twigpaw and his mentor, Sparrowtalon. Rustpelt flattened his easily, but I had to rip out several large pawfuls of fur on mine before she finally fled to huddle at the edge of the clearing.

I heard a snarl behind me. Turning, I saw Nightstar emerge from between two pairs of LeopardClan warriors like the evil shadow he was and leap on Rustpelt's back. With a grunt of pain, Rustpelt collapsed, hitting his chin hard on the ground. Leaping forward, I tried to push Nightstar off of my battle partner, but Nightstar was too heavy. I lashed out at his nose, but he dodged and kicked me away with a hind leg, sending me spinning across the grassy ground.

"Now, who are you, who little Sootpaw wants to protect so much?" Nightstar asked in a soft voice that nonetheless carried above the sounds of battle all around. Reaching around, he tilted Rustpelt's chin up to face him.

Only Nightstar would dare do something like that, I thought angrily, unsheathing my claws but unwilling to do more than that; I needed to wait for an opening to get Nightstar off of Rustpelt. I couldn't let Nightstar kill him, not while Foxtooth wasn't here. I couldn't imagine trying to explain to the ginger warrior that I'd let his brother die right in front of me.

"Ah, I think I recognize you," Nightstar smiled. "Or at least parts of you. You have your mother's fur and your father's eyes, I see."

"Get off of me!" Rustpelt muttered, unable to growl because of the angle Nightstar was holding his head and the amount of pressure Nightstar's weight put on his lungs.

"Oh, I don't think I could do that," Nightstar purred. "You see, you might just get up and turn around to fight me. I can't have that, can I? It'd make my Clan think I was a coward!"

"It's not fair to hold him down like that," I cried, unable to hold my voice in check any longer. "He hasn't even had a chance to fight you!"

"Yes he has," Nightstar replied, not looking at me. "He had the chance to turn around before I leaped. He had the chance to dodge while I leaped. He had the chance to turn over to claw at my belly even if he didn't have time to dodge. That's three chances he had and he missed them all." Finally, he turned to look at me, nodding over my head. "Just like you are about to do."

I didn't stop to think. If Nightstar was messing with me, I could lose a little pride to be safe. Dropping to the ground, I rolled over just in time to catch the cat leaping at me, and with a powerful kick sent him flying at Nightstar. Apparently nearly blinded by the fervor of battle, the warrior began clawing at his own leader. With a flick of his paw, Nightstar snapped his warrior's neck and the body dropped to the ground beside him.

I stared at him in new horror; what leader would kill his own warrior, even if that warrior had accidentally attacked him?

"Now for you." Nightstar turned back to Rustpelt, who looked in real terror at him. "What should I do with you?"

"Please don't kill him," I croaked, rolling back onto my paws. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"Other than opposing me and trying to kill my warriors," Nightstar said. "I think that's enough to merit a death, don't you?" He grinned at me. "Then again, I suppose if you beg I can let your warrior live."

There was no decision to be made. If I could lose some pride for my own sake, without question I could lose some for my Clanmate and friend. Crouching down, I lowered my nose to the ground and spoke, my voice muffled by the dirt pressing against my mouth. "Please, Nightstar. Please free my warrior."

"Louder and more sincere," Nightstar ordered.

I gritted my teeth, but one glance at Rustpelt forced me to continue, as much as I hated groveling to my worst enemy, the cat who had killed my father. "Please, Nightstar! Please free my warrior!" I yowled. "Please, I'm begging you, free Rustpelt! Let him live!"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nightstar grinning maliciously. "Very well," he drawled. "I suppose I could let this cat live."

"Thank—"

Crack!

Rustpelt let out a howl of pure agony as Nightstar released him. I raced forward, spitting out dirt as I leaped to my friend's side. One of Rustpelt's forelegs was twisted around at an awkward angle, the leg bending in a strange place.

Turning furiously to Nightstar, I yowled, "You said you'd let him go free!"

Nightstar's eyes glinted. "I said I'd let him live… for now. Imagine if, in the next battle, Rustpelt can't walk and therefore falls to a NightClan warrior? Now, that wouldn't be my fault, would it?"

I hissed, spitting at him before calling to the LeopardClan warriors, "Retreat! Fall back to the camp!"

As I pushed my shoulder under Rustpelt's back, trying to heave him up to get him back to the camp, Dawnpaw and Snowclaw raced up, both panting and bleeding, though not severely. "I heard Rustpelt yowl," Dawnpaw gasped. "What… what happened?"

"Nightstar," I meowed briefly. "We have to get him back to camp. Where's Stormtuft?" I glanced around wildly, searching for the medicine cat. I'd brought him along specifically for this purpose—if a cat got badly wounded, then he could help get them back without injuring them further.

"I can carry him," Snowclaw said, glancing around at the silent camp of NightClan warriors, rapidly emptying of LeopardClan cats. He crouched and, together, Dawnpaw and I pulled the now unconscious Rustpelt onto Snowclaw's back. The four of us headed back to the LeopardClan camp, Dawnpaw and I supporting Snowclaw on either side.

Well, who do you think didn't make it through the battle? And what did you think of Sootpaw being forced to grovel to Nightstar?

AOTD: Rainsky is the name I'm most proud of for the three. The next two are coming in the next few chapters, I hope!

QOTD: I know this is a little after the fact, but what color did you see the dress as?