Chapter 49: Encroaching Shadow

Tension was high within the clan. The presence of the prey thieves was becoming more prominent. On top of that, Tigerclaw looked way to proud today. It takes a keen eye to notice, but he had a slight swagger today. Something was about to go down, and it was happening today. Tigerclaw, in an unusual show of force, sent out a large number of border and hunting patrols. The camp wasn't quite on a skeleton crew, but it was close. We'd ascertained that whomever the prey thieves were, they had a sizable force.

Sneaking past Tigerclaw's watch, Lionheart and Bluestar slipped out to check the Windclan border, possibly to discuss the issue with Windclan or see how far the thievery reached. The camp had probably only five full warriors on standby. It was then that one of the members from the border patrol, Runningwind, came skidding in rapidly reporting that the thieves had made an unusual push into Thunderclan territory.

Tigerclaw let his namesake show as he announced, "This has gone on far too long! We can't let Shadowclan keep getting away with this. I say we raid them back. Ravenpaw, Darkstripe, Runningwind, and I will raid Shadowclan."

Tigerclaw successfully whipped the clan into a vengeful frenzy, but something about his tone was off. I could detect a deception a mile away. This raid is what he wanted. It was what he had been waiting for all day. Tigerclaw is by no means a fool, but I could not tell what his motive was. I had to let him get away with it. He and the rest of the raiders set off, leaving the camp nearly unguarded.

Almost immediately after Tigerclaw's raiding party departed, Yellowfang made an appearance. A look of recognition and fear flashed on her face. "I recognize that scent. The cats who have been thieving from us have been Brokenstar's rogues. We must stop Tigerclaw before he starts a war!" Yellowfang urged.

Fireheart was by her side, heeding her words, but he must have learned enough from me to not go tearing off to save the day. "I can't leave. That'd only leave one warrior in the camp. On top of that, Smudgefoot may be a good warrior, but he is not a good fighter."

I unfortunately had to agree with Fireheart's assessment. I could not defend the camp on my own. The only backup I'd have would be the apprentices. Admittedly Sandpaw and Dustpaw were pretty much warriors, but I still didn't like those odds.

Fireheart came up with a solution. It was a gamble, but it was better than leaving the camp under defended. "Brackenpaw, I need you to go and let Tigerclaw know that the thieves were Brokenstar's. You have to get to him quick. Hopefully you won't have to cross the Thunderpath. Be careful. We don't know where they are out there."

Brackenpaw nodded with a determined look on his face before tearing off out of the entrance tunnel. I never really appreciated how fast that kit could run. I honestly worried that the apprentice would be jumped by Brokenstar's band on the way. On a bittersweet not, that worry soon was proven unnecessary… since Brokenstar was raiding the camp.

I flew to my paws, racing into the fray. Using the old bread and butter, I bulldozed through the enemy's ranks, trying to sow disorder to give our cats a better edge. There were eight of them, only three of which were recognizably of Shadowclan origin. Regardless, my shock tactic proved effective since one of the rogues made to flee after being thrown into the air. Unfortunately, there were still seven left, as opposed to our four plus some more feisty queens and Yellowfang.

I was still the weakest link in this clan. I could only really handle a duel with a singular rogue. Meanwhile, Dustpaw's and Sandpaw's training was paying dividends. Both were hugely destructive and effective, handling two rogues a piece. While I was handling only a single nameless rogue, Fireheart had managed to get into a fight with Blackfoot. Despite this being a ruthless raid, Blackfoot was visibly holding back. It was subtle but he did not take the most lethal of attacks.

Thankfully, Greystripe made and appearance and took over that fight, leaving only one rogue left, Clawface, the one who killed Spottedleaf. I'd just forced my opponent into a retreat after catching them in a lucky combo when Clawface launched his attack. I couldn't get there in time. Fireheart was pressed down by his larger and more fearsome opponent. In an instant I could tell what type of cat Clawface was. He was a battle junkie. The ways his eyes dilated and went slightly bloodshot told it all. He wasn't fighting for Brokenstar. He was fighting to fight. Thus, he wasn't likely to try and end things quickly. There in lied his weakness and, somewhat accurately, his fatal flaw.

Clawface may have caught Fireheart in the attack and had the edge, but Fireheart was the one looking to end things now. Too many cats were in danger to drag this out. In attack reserved to deal with the worst of the worst, Fireheart bit into Clawface's neck. The battle junkie gasped as if forming a temporary lucidity. He fell to his side, desperately trying to breath, but no air would come. It didn't take long for Clawface to go still, a look of actual fear in his eyes. That tom had only wanted to fight. He hadn't expected to die. In an odd way, it was pitiable. This cat had been the victim of a violent addiction. If he'd never learned of his violent tendencies, who could he have become? It didn't matter now. His body now lay cooling in the center of our camp like a piece of freshkill… It felt wrong.

A screech rang out from the medicine den, a voice that was not Yellowfang, but rather who she sank her dirty old claws into. Fireheart dipped in to investigate. It was obvious who had been wounded, given that all the rogues were gone and Brokenstar had disappeared early in the raid. I let Fireheart have his moment because I felt I still had something I needed to do. I crouched in front of the body of Clawface and silently closed those terrified and foggy eyes. In an odd way, I felt a kinship with this fallen villain. I was battling with my own addiction, the cold, and had resisted. Clawface hadn't been so lucky.

"I hope wherever you go next, the addiction does not follow. You were equal parts monster and victim. Make your next life a better one." I quietly murmured to the dead cat.

The raid had ended. The enemies had been routed, fled, were killed, or were crippled. Brokenstar was blinded and was on his last life. His pride had lead him to failure. He looked as broken as his name implied.

On a side note, I was glad that Brokenstar was captured. His raid had been too perfectly timed. The odds had been stacked against us too well, and I think I knew why.

Things settled down quickly as all the patrols and the raiding party returned. Fireheart and I gave Bluestar our report, especially noting Dustpaw's and Sandpaw's prowess. The two were named warriors immediately afterwards, now sporting the names Dustpelt and Sandstorm.

I was glad that I took Spottedleaf's warning to heart. If I had been out of camp hunting, like I usually was, then things could have ended up much worse.