I have all the books, actually, aside from Dawn of the Clans and a few (unimportant) others. I've had them for a long time, so all of them have their original covers.

I keep whatever book I'm working on nearby and use it to work on a chapter-to-chapter basis. Helps keep the events in order! But if I need to look ahead a little in order to work towards something, I either go through the book or look online. I'm not doing all this off the top of my head!

Sorry for such a large gap in updates! It might happen from time to time - I'm busy.

Chapter 5

"Ugh," Tinyclaw lamented. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

He had found some fresh fox-dung in the forest, despite all his hopes for the contrary. Reluctantly taking Tawnypelt's advice, he leaped right in and rubbed as much of it as he could onto his pelt to cover up the scent of RiverClan. No cat would know he'd gone outside his own territory, but perhaps they might not be too keen to let him into the warrior's den tonight.

Tinyclaw pushed his way into the camp. It was worth it, I guess, he decided. The information he'd gotten thanks to Tawnypelt outweighed the stench of fox dung. He hoped the squirrel in his jaws would make up for his absence.

No cat seemed to notice him, however – they were all gathered beneath the Highrock. Tinyclaw blinked in surprise – he must have just missed Tigerstar's call.

Tinyclaw quickly put his squirrel on the pile and headed for the meeting, wondering what it was about. Across the clearing, Tinyclaw spotted Brindleface padding out of the nursery. Her three kits spilled out behind her – two gray like their mother, and one uncharacteristically white-and-ginger. Tinyclaw's niece, Cloudkit, seemed to be fitting in well with the Clan.

I'll have to tell Fiona sometime, he thought. His brother's mate had been wonderstruck by Clan life, and she and Rusty had agreed to let their firstborn daughter live amongst the Clans in the forest. Despite a rocky start, Cloudkit seemed to be doing well. Brindleface loved her no different than her own kits, and that was enough to wipe away the looks some of Tinyclaw's Clanmates still gave her.

Tinyclaw drew closer. His ear twitched as Cloudkit mewled, "Why can't I be an apprentice? I'm just as big and smart as Frostfur's kits!"

"Hush," Brindleface mewed back. She drew her kits together with her tail. "It will be your turn soon, little one; but for now let's watch."

"But I want to be an apprentice now!" Cloudkit insisted.

Brindleface's whiskers twitched. Tinyclaw sighed, wondering if his headstrong niece would ever learn Clan ways. If anyone could teach her, though, it was Brindleface. In the end, Cloudkit still respected her foster mother.

Tinyclaw turned his attention to the meeting. His whiskers twitched with interest – Frostfur's kits were finally well enough to become apprentices. Thornkit and Swiftkit had been captured by ShadowClan and then they'd caught a bad bout of greencough around the time their littermates Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw received their names.

He padded into the crowd, sheepishly flattening his ears as cats who caught his scent recoiled in shock. Tinyclaw settled himself near Sandstorm at the front of the crowd, very, very aware of the gap between himself and his other Clanmates.

"Tinyclaw!" admonished Sandstorm. Her nose wrinkled tight. "Where have you been?"

"It was an accident," Tinyclaw insisted, in his own defense. "I slid down some muck while chasing a shrew and landed in… other muck." He didn't like lying to Sandstorm, of all cats, but the truth was no option. At least it was a believable lie.

I'm getting too good at lying, he told himself. Soon, though, I won't need to lie any more.

"Well, stay away from me until it wears off!" Sandstorm insisted. Her mew was firm, but there was laughter in it. She scooted a few mouse-lengths away.

"And clean that stink off before you come into the den," growled a voice. Tinyclaw turned to find that, to his amusement, Darkstripe was sitting two tail-lengths behind him. The dark warrior's nose was wrinkled in disgust, and Tinyclaw had to contain his purr. "I'm not sleeping with that stink in my nose!"

Maybe I'll leave a bit of it in your nest, then, Tinyclaw thought.

Tigerstar began to speak, getting Tinyclaw's attention: "We have gathered here to give two kits their apprentice names. They have both waited patiently for this moment, and it is well-deserved." Tigerstar looked down at Frostfur, who sat near the front of the crowd with her two kits on either side of her.

Thornkit was the bigger of the two, colored golden-brown like his brother Brackenpaw. He leaped to his paws in excitement, eyes blazing up at Tigerstar. Swiftkit was the smaller one, his body structured more like Frostfur's. His pelt was white, patched with black and gray. He got to his paws, but was a little calmer about it.

"Yes," Tigerstar purred, "come forward, you two. You've waited long enough."

Thornkit led the way, with Swiftkit following more sedately. The smaller tom seemed almost nervous. Tinyclaw watched them enviously, remembering when he got Brackenpaw as his apprentice. Part of him wished he could mentor one of these kits – but if Tigerstar had chosen him for the honor, Tinyclaw would have known beforehand.

Maybe he'll never choose me again, Tinyclaw thought. His heart skipped a beat. Because of what happened with Brackenpaw…

"Mousefur," Tigerstar called, "you have told me that you're ready to take on an apprentice. You will be mentor to Thornpaw."

Mousefur stepped forward, out of the crowd. The wiry, compact she-cat padded forward and stood beside Thornpaw. The golden-brown tom seemed more than happy to meet her.

"Mousefur," Tigerstar meowed, "you are a brave, intelligent warrior. Pass on these qualities to your new apprentice."

"I will," Mousefur agreed. She bent her head and touched her nose to Thornpaw's. Then, the two retreated back into the crowd.

Swiftkit was left alone in the spotlight now, and the patched tom didn't look happy about it. He fidgeted on his paws, his whiskers quivering in anticipation – or nervousness.

"Whitestorm," Tigerstar called, "you are free to take on another apprentice, now that Sandstorm is a warrior. You will be mentor to Swiftpaw."

Whitestorm got to his paws, his white pelt glowing in the sun. He approached Swiftpaw, looking down at the apprentice with his sandy eyes. Swiftpaw looked up at Whitestorm, enraptured by the large warrior.

"Whitestorm," Tigerstar went on, "you are a brave warrior of skill and experience. I know you will pass on all you know to this apprentice."

"Of course," Whitestorm replied. "Welcome, Swiftpaw." He bent his head and touched his nose to Swiftpaw's. Whitestorm escorted the young tom back into the throng of cats.

Their names were called, and the warriors began grouping around the new apprentices to congratulate them. Tinyclaw stepped back, knowing he wouldn't be welcome in such a tight group – especially with the smell of fox-dung on his pelt. Tinyclaw caught sight of Graystripe at the back of the crowd; he must have returned unseen during the meeting.

Graystripe padded over to him. "It's all been arranged," he meowed quietly. "If it's sunny tomorrow, Silverstream and Tawnypelt will convince Goldenflower to leave camp for some exercise. They'll meet us at sunhigh."

"Where?" Tinyclaw wondered. It was too dangerous to go into RiverClan territory two days in a row – he didn't think his Clanmates would believe that he'd fallen into fox-dung twice. Leaving so much ThunderClan scent there was dangerous.

"There's a quiet place, where no cat really goes," Graystripe mewed back, "near the Twoleg bridge. It's where Silverstream and I used to meet before…"

Tinyclaw nodded in understanding. They'd been meeting there up until Tinyclaw insisted they move to Fourtrees, where their scents would more muddled. It was less suspicious than meeting at Fourtrees, he supposed. Goldenflower would be more likely to go along with it.

"Thank you," Tinyclaw told him. Since the battle with Sunningrocks, anything having to do with RiverClan was a great risk. Graystripe was already sticking his neck out just meeting Silverstream – doing this, though, was taking it a few steps further.

Still, as the two of them headed for the fresh-kill pile, Tinyclaw's paws itched. He couldn't wait to meet Goldenflower, to see what she knew of all these mysteries.

"Here we are," Graystripe mewed.

The two warriors were only a few hops over the RiverClan border, on the ThunderClan side of the river. The place was open and surrounded by little bushes, sheltered by willows and oaks. Tinyclaw imagined that it looked gorgeous in the warmer seasons.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe huddled beneath one of the bushes, in nests made of leaves. There they settled in to wait, staring at the frozen river. Tinyclaw placed his mouse – a gift for Goldenflower – at his paws. He pushed back his own hunger – he was already breaking the warrior code by doing this; there was no need to add to his conscience.

He swallowed. I've taken a dangerous path, doing this, he thought. Was it the right one?

Sunhigh had come and gone, and Tinyclaw wondered if the RiverClan cats were even coming – and then, suddenly, RiverClan scent drifted down the river. A thin, elderly voice accompanied it.

"Oh, Tawnypelt," the voice complained, "this is too far for my old bones… I'm going to freeze!"

"Nonesense," hushed Tawnypelt. "It's a beautiful day, mother."

"The exercise will do you good," soothed Silverstream.

Tinyclaw heard a sigh of agreement in response. He lifted his head, looking down the river. Three cats came into view, picking their way down into the hollow. Silverstream was in the lead, with Tawnypelt escorting an elderly-looking golden tabby she-cat. Tinyclaw assumed this was Goldenflower.

She was lovely for her age. Though her fur was patchy and her muzzle was white, it was clear there was still life in her bones. Her muscles were strong and her body showed signs of battle. Her coat was shiny, like all RiverClan cat's – but she was skinny, and her bones showed through in places of stress.

Suddenly, Goldenflower stopped and raised her muzzle. "There are ThunderClan cats here!" she hissed.

Tawnypelt and Silverstream exchanged a worried glance. Then, Tawnypelt mewed soothingly, "Yes, I know. It's all right."

Goldeflower threw her daughter a suspicious look. "What do you mean?" she wondered, her voice low. "How are trespassers on our territory all right? What do you know of this?"

"They just want to talk to you," Tawnypelt explained. "Trust me, mother; they won't hurt you."

Goldenflower's eyes blazed, and for a moment Tinyclaw thought she might turn away yowling, raising alarm for other RiverClan cats in the area. But, Goldenflower's curiosity seemed to get the better of her. She continued down the slope to the bottom of the glade, sinking in the soft snow.

"Graystripe?" Silverstream called, softly.

"We're here," Graystripe replied. He stuck his head out of the bush.

Goldenflower's eyes burned into him. "Of course ThunderClan cats would be hiding in the bushes!" she scoffed. She followed as Tawnypelt and Silverstream led the way into the prickly shelter. Goldenflower was tense, every muscle poised to spring. Her pale eyes burned as she looked at Tinyclaw and Graystripe.

"These are Tinyclaw and Graystripe," Tawnypelt began, sweeping her tail over them. "They're here to -"

"Oh, there had better be a good explanation for this, Tawnypelt," Goldenflower growled. "What are they doing here?"

"They're decent cats, Goldenflower," Tawnypelt insisted. "For ThunderClan, anyway; at least hear them out!"

Tinyclaw got to his paws. "We need to talk to you," he began. He pushed the mouse towards Goldenflower, hoping to appease her. "Please. I brought you this."

Goldenflower eyed the mouse, then pulled it over to her. "Well, at least you mind your manners," she sighed. She bent her head and took a large bite of the mouse. She made sure to chew and swallow before speaking again: "Stringy, but it'll do."

Tinyclaw tried to find the right words while Goldenflower was finishing up the mouse. There really was no subtle way to ask, so he ventured, "I need to ask you about something Swiftclaw said before he died."

Goldenflower's ears twitched, but she didn't look up at Tinyclaw.

"I heard what happened at the battle with Sunningrocks," Tinyclaw went on. "Before he died, Swiftclaw insisted that no ThunderClan cat could harm Brambleclaw. Do you know what he might have meant?"

Goldenflower said nothing until she had swallowed every last bit of the mouse. She lifted her head and began to wash, tending to her whiskers gently. Then, when she was clean, she got to her paws and looked Tinyclaw dead in the eyes. She stared at him for several long moments, and Tinyclaw wondered if she could somehow see everything he was thinking about.

"I think you should go," Goldenflower meowed, waving her tail at Tawnypelt and Silverstream. "Go on; out. You, too," she glanced at Graystripe. "Tinyclaw is the one that needs to know."

Graystripe got up, looking confused. Tinyclaw bit back his protest, only shrugging in response. If he insisted that Graystripe stay, Goldenflower might not speak to him at all. What was it she had to say that not even her own Clanmates could hear? Tinyclaw's tail trembled – there was a secret here, but he had no idea what it would have to do with ThunderClan.

Silverstream and Tawnypelt were just as confused, but they said nothing.

"We'll meet you at the Twoleg bridge," Silverstream offered.

"Don't bother," Goldenflower chuckled. "I'm not helpless; I can find my way home on my own."

Silverstream shrugged. She and Tawnypelt led the way out of the bushes, and Graystripe trailed after them.

Goldenflower waited until they were gone. Then, she settled down, curling her tail around her paws. She heaved a deep sigh. She did not speak until she seemed sure that they were alone.

"Tawnypelt told you that I'm her mother, yes?" Goldenflower meowed, "And Brambleclaw's, and Swiftclaw's?"

Tinyclaw nodded. "Yes," he replied.

Goldenflower looked into his eyes again. She heaved another sigh, and suddenly she looked so much older. Tinyclaw wondered what she was about to say that was affecting her so intensely.

"That is true," Goldenflower said. "I was their mother. But their father was not the same."

Tinyclaw's ears pricked. It was not uncommon for she-cats to mate with more than one cat, but it was usually due to extraneous circumstances.

"Swiftclaw's father was RiverClan," Goldenflower meowed. "But Tawnypelt's and Brambleclaw's… their father was ThunderClan."