Fleck felt the bush pulling at his pelt as he slid through the entrance. He inhaled deeply, blinking at the bright sunlight he emerged into. He looked down over the edge of the drop off into the Thunderclan Camp.

The camp was centered around a clearing, the dens all around the edges of the clearing. In one area of the camp, there was a well-worn patch of earth, packed hard into the ground by many sets of paws. On closer inspection, Fleck noticed a ledge in the cliff wall just above the clearing. That must be where the Clan held it's meetings. The camp was orderly, and had a warm sense of companionship about it. There were a few cats walking around in the camp, some emerging from dens, others returning to them. Every cat looked like they belonged here. Even the tiny kits tumbling about in a patch of moss. Like they were all a part of something more. Which they were. They were warriors.

The patrol guided him down a path leading into the camp. When he stepped into the clearing, many of the cats turned to look at him. The friendly chatter that had been buzzing around camp only moments before subsided as the Thunderclan warriors noticed the outsider in their midst. Even the little kits stopped their game to stare at Fleck with their wide kitten eyes. The smaller kit, a dappled brown she kit, scrambled back to her mother.

"Who is that, Daypool?" He heard the little she cat ask. Her mother said nothing, only wrapped her tail around the kit, drawing her close. Was he really that terrifying? Well, probably to such a young kit. He felt his pelt flame with embarrassment.

The quiet that had fallen over the clearing did not last long. Fleck heard the Clan begin to murmer to one another.

"Who is he? It's been moons since an outsider's been allowed into camp."

"Is he a warrior of another Clan?"

"No he doesn't have the scent of any Clan I know."

Fleck held his head high as he was led through the camp. He had spent moons searching for Thunderclan. He would not turn tail and run because of a few suspicious Clan cats. He had to do this. For Ravenpaw. He wouldn't break his promise, no matter what. He let his memory whisk him away, reminiscing about the day he'd made the promise that would change his life. The day Ravenpaw died.

Leafbare was over, and Newleaf had just begun. Ravenpaw had been ill for two moons now. Fleck was ten moons old at this time, now a full-fledged Mouser in the barn.

It was a peaceful morning, the sun was just rising. Ravenpaw's breathing was growing weaker and weaker, now nothing but a faint wheeze. He knew that the time had come for Starclan to take him. If only he could have walked with the Clan once more. He loved his life in the barn, but part of him would always long for the security and companionship. He wished he could have left his legacy in the Clan, so that his kits could have been Warriors. Clan life would have suited his descendants well. Especially little Fleck, his own daughter Minty's son. To walk among the Warrior Clans once more… To see his old friends again… These were the only things he wished he could change. But he would soon be dead. The other barn cats were asleep. Ravenpaw drew in a sharp breath, knowing the end was drawing near.

Fleck's ear twitched, and the cold morning chased away the wonderful dream he'd been having. Some odd noise had woken him. He opened his bleary eyes. The others were still asleep. They probably hadn't heard the noise. Fleck had always had exceptional hearing. There! He heard the sound once more. He turned his head, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. His gaze came to rest on Ravenpaw, breaths falling fast and shallow.

Fleck scrambled out of his nest, bounding over to his dying grandfather. "Ravenpaw!" He cried. Ravenpaw's eyes flew to his, their gazes meeting. Ravenpaw opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He was too short of breath, to close to the end. Fleck saw the panicked look in Ravenpaw's eyes. His eyes spoke the words his mouth couldn't form. The desperation, the longing for something more. And Fleck understood.

"Ravenpaw. I will find Thunderclan, no matter how many seasons it takes me, even if I have to travel far from home. I'll find Thunderclan, and I'll live out your dying wish for you. I will walk amongst the Clan cats in your place. Now rest easy. Starclan awaits you." He promised gently.

At those words, he saw relief flood Ravenpaw's eyes, which were quickly dulling. The old cat drew in a final shuddering breath, died. He knew his dreams would live on in Fleck. He could finally leave in peace.

Fleck would never break the promise. It was the last thing Ravenpaw had wanted. He wouldn't let his old friend down. Birchfall's patrol led him to one side of the clearing, where a dark ginger she cat sat, watching them with interest. Fleck's eyes widened as they drew close to her. She looked very much like Sunpaw. Could they be related?

Birchfall stepped forward, dipping his head in respect. "Squirrelflight. We've brought this cat to camp on the request to speak with the leader. Is Bramblestar here?" He asked.

Squirrelflight glanced at Fleck. "You just missed him. He's out hunting with Lionblaze." She replied, eyeing the patrol. "No need to treat him like a prisoner. Give him some room." Her voice was warm, far more welcoming than the greeting he'd received from the Clan. At least some cats didn't seem scared out of their fur by his arrival. "I am Squirrelflight, deputy of Thunderclan. What's your name, newcomer? And why have you come to speak with Bramblestar?" She inquired.

Fleck stepped forward. "My name is Fleck, grandson of Ravenpaw. And I've been searching for Thunderclan for a very long time."