Wary

Over the next few days, the streams in ThunderClan territory dwindled until the only freshwater to be found was near the RiverClan border, on the far side of Sunningrocks.

"There's never been a summer like it," grumbled One-Eye. "The forest is as dry as a kit's bedding."

Nightfrost flicked his ears in agreement. He helped Frostfur organized a party of elders and queens to go to the river to drink. They gathered in the narrow shadows at the edge of the clearing.

Why would StarClan send such a drought now?" Smallear complained. The old grey tom glanced at Fireheart, as if blaming him.

"It's not the dryness that bothers me," rasped One-Eye. "It's all the Twolegs out in the forest. I've never heard so many crashing around, scaring off the prey and ruining our scent markers with their stench. A bit of rain might drive them away."

"Well, I'm worried about Willowpelt," meowed Speckletail. "It's quite a journey to the stream and back, and she doesn't like to leave her kits for so long. But if she doesn't drink, her milk'll dry up and her kits will starve."

"Goldenflower too," Patchpelt put in. "Perhaps if we each carried back moss soaked in water, they could lick the moisture from that?" he suggested.

"That's a great idea," Fireheart meowed. "Can you bring some back today?"

The old black-and-white tom nodded.

"We'll all bring some," offered Speckletail.

"Thank you." Fireheart blinked gratefully at her. He called to Sandstorm and Brackenpaw, who were resting in the shade of the nettle patch after the sunhigh patrol. They leaped up at once and trotted over to him.

"Would you escort Smallear and the others?" Fireheart meowed. "I don't know how close to the river they'll have to go, and they'll need some backup if they bump into a RiverClan patrol." He paused. "I know you're tired, but the other cats are out training, and I need to stay with Whitestorm to guard the camp."

"No problem," meowed Brackenpaw easily.

"I'm not tired, Fireheart," insisted Sandstorm, fixing him with her leaf-green gaze.

"Er, great," he meowed, a little too loudly. He began washing his chest self-consciously. Brackenpaw and Nightfrost twitched their whiskers with amusement. The group padded off to Sunningrocks. Nightfrost licked himself clean and called out to his apprentice.

After a short training routine with his apprentice, Nightfrost and Swiftpaw padded back to the clearing. Swiftpaw padded away to to Brightpaw, bringing one of his catches to her. Nightfrost dropped his and grabbed the last old piece of prey with him.

Nightfrost padded to shaded spot with his squirrel. He only took one bite when a terrible caterwauling. Every cat look or stood up in alarm as Mousefur and Thornpaw thundered into the clearing. Their fur was matted with blood, and Thornpaw was limping badly.

Fireheart left his pigeon, swallowing his bite. "What happened? Where's Runningwind?"

Nightfrost and his mate joined the other cats as they gather behind him, hissing with fear, their fur bristling as they prepared for trouble.

"I don't know. We were attacked," panted Mousefur.

"By who?" Fireheart demanded.

Mousefur shook her head. "We couldn't see. We were in the shadows."

"But what about their scent?"

"Too near the Thunderpath. Couldn't tell," answered Thornpaw, his breath coming in short gasps. He swayed unsteadily on his paws.

"Go and see Yellowfang," he ordered. "Whitestorm!" he called to the white warrior who was already hurrying from Bluestar's den. "I want you to come with us." He turned to Mousefur. "Lead us to where this happened."

Sandstorm and Dustpelt looked expectantly at Fireheart, waiting to receive orders. "You two stay here and guard the camp," he meowed. "This might be a trap to lure our warriors away. It's happened before."

The three warriors raced away. Soon, Whitestorm and Mousefur returned with Runningnose's body.

"What happened?!" yowled out Sandstorm.

Both cats placed Runningwind in the middle of camp. "Tigerclaw and his rogues attacked," Mousefur mewed.

Yellowfang stuck her head out and turned back. Whitestorm padded to Bluestar's den. The elders prepared themselves to groom his mentor's pelt. Mousefur padded to him.

"I'm sorry, Nightfrost. Runnningwind was your mentor," the brown she-cat mewed sadly.

Nightfrost shook his head. "It was Tigerclaw and his rogues, right?"

Mousefur nodded. "Yes, but-"

"Then it couldn't be helped, Mousefur. He hunts with Starclan now," Nightfrost answered, turning to the sky.

Soon, it was moonhigh. Runningwind looked peaceful, stretched out as if he were asleep in the moonlight. Bluestar was pacing around the warrior's body, her broad gray head swinging from side to side.

The rest of the Clan hung back, keeping to the shadows at the edge of the clearing. The air was thick with distress. The cats weaved silently among one another, glancing anxiously at their leader as she padded back and forth, muttering under her breath. She didn't even try to control her grief, as she would have done once.

Fireheart soon padded though the gorse tunnel and looked around. The clan watched him, waiting as he padded to Bluestar.

Bluestar looked up. "They say Tigerclaw did this," she rasped.

"It might have been one of his rogues."

"How many are there?"

"I don't know," Fireheart admitted. "Many."

Bluestar shook her head again.

The deputy continued. "Tigerclaw wants vengeance against ThunderClan," he reported. "He told me he is going to kill our warriors one by one."

The Clan exploded into horrified yowls. Gradually the Clan fell silent, and they for Bluestar to speak. An owl screeched in the distance as it dived through the trees. Bluestar lifted her head and murmured something that only Fireheart can hear.

"No!" Fireheart spat. "He wants revenge on the whole Clan, not just you!"

The leader dropped her head. "Such vicious betrayal!" she hissed. "How could I not have seen his treachery when he lived among us? What a fool I've been!" She shook her head, her eyes closed. "What a mousebrained fool."

"We must make sure the camp is guarded day and night from now on. Longtail." He looked over at the striped warrior. "You will sit guard till moonhigh." Then he swung his head toward Frostfur. "You will take over then." The two cats nodded, and Fireheart bent his head toward Runningwind's body. "Mousefur and Brackenfur can bury Runningwind at dawn. Bluestar will sit vigil with him until then."

Fireheart glanced at Bluestar, and rested his eyes on his brother.

"I will join her," meowed Whitestorm. The white warrior shouldered his way through the crowd and sat beside Bluestar, pressing his pelt against hers. Fireheart returned his gaze to Runningwind.

One by one the Clan padded forward to pay their respects to their lost friend. Willowpelt slipped from the nursery and touched the dead warrior gently with her muzzle, whispering her sorrowful farewell. Goldenflower followed her, signaling to her kits to stay back. She gently lick Runningwind's cheek. After Goldenflower had padded away, Fireheart stepped forward and leaned down to lick Runningwind's dull pelt. After he stepped away, Nightfrost stepped forth and licked his mentor's pelt and pressed his nose to the light, brown fur.

He didn't know what to say. Even as mentor and apprentice, they never bonded as well as the others did. One moon was all they had to bond and after that, they were busy with clan life. Right now, what should he say?

He thought about the time they had spent, the only time they had spent. The training helped, helped him to value life. All of the sudden, he felt something, a feeling for what he had learned from this warrior. He smiled, Nightfrost now knew what he should say.

"Thank you, Runningwind, for teaching me the warrior code, to value the life of others. Thank you."

He turned away, allowing another cat to share tongues. Now...Now was the time to worry about Tigerclaw...and the drought along with his mate.