By late afternoon the lingering smell of smoke has been replaced by the stench of wet ash, but he relishes the bitter order.
His kits napping with Goldenflower's kits after falling asleep to Crookedstar's stories, he pushes himself to his paws. He would love to bring Sandstorm with him to check for Yellowfang and Halfhail, as the fire must be out by now. But he and Longtail haven't gone out for a while for just a hangout without their apprentices accompanying them.
So finding the pale striped tabby warrior he meows, "Would you like to find Halftail and Yellowfang with me? The fire should be out by now."
"You're asking me? Why not Sandstorm."
He rolls his eyes and nudges the warrior playfully, "Because you're also my friend. And it would be a chance to hangout without our apprentices taking up our time."
Longtail purrs, amused, "Okay."
Both warriors head out of Riverclan camp, with Graystripe casting one last glance at Bluestar. The old leader is huddled next to Whitestorm, as if the warrior is her only barrier between her troubled mind and the horrific fate that has befallen her clan. He wonders if he should tell her where he and Longtail are going, but decides against it. For the moment he will act alone and rely on his clan to shield their leader's weakened state from curious Riverclan cats.
Out in the forest they head back to the river. Once reaching the bank, on the other side of swiftly flowing water the forest is blackened and charred. The tallest trees managed to retain a few of their leaves, which flutter bracelet at the tips of their highest branches. But it is a small victory when the rest of their branches are black and stripped bare.
Longtail slips first into the river without speaking and swims across. Graystripe follows suit, his friend beside him struggling a bit to paddle to the shore. As they climb onto the opposite bank, he and Longtail stare in horror at the remains of their beloved woodland.
"I can't believe the fire was this bad. We're lucky you scented it when you did, otherwise…" the pale striped warrior trails off, sadness evident in his mew.
"I know. We could have lost more cats." he thought pricks his heart as he can't bare that if he had even been a little more late in scenting the fire, his kits, Goldenflower and her kits, Sandstorm and Longtail might have perished in the fire.
Longtail swipes his tail along his spine in a reassuring gesture. He blinks at the warrior gratefully.
They push their way forward through the burned undergrowth. Graystripe is amazed they can recognize anything. The forest has been changed beyond belief, the undergrowth burned away, the air empty of prey scent and noise. The ground feels sticky underpaw where the rain has mingled with ash to make black, acrid smelling mud that clings to their fur. He shivers as raindrops splash onto his wet pelt. The sound of a single, brave bird singing in the distance makes his heart ache for everything that has been lost.
Reaching the ravine at last he notices the camp is clearly visible, stripped of its protective canopy, the hard earth gleams like black stone in the rain. The Highrock is the only thing unchanged by the fire, apart from the sticky black ash that now lays on the rock.
Rushing down the slope with Longtail beside him they send grit and ash crumbling ahead of them. The were he had saved Bramblekit is nothing but a heap of charred sticks now, and he leaps over them easily. Searching for the gorse tunnel that leads to camp he finds nothing except a tangle of blackened stems remaining. Picking his way through the gorse, he hurries into the smoke-stained clearing.
As he scans the clearing he feels his heart pound. Longtail nudges him and he follows the pale striped tabby's gaze to where Halftail lay at where the entrance to Yellowfang's fern tunnel used to be. The Medicine cat must have tried to get the unconscious elder back into the safety of camp, hoping perhaps the cracked rock that serves as her den would protect them from the flames.
Graystripe starts towards the burned shape, but Longtail mews, "I'll bury Halftail. You look for Yellowfang." He picks up the limp brown body, and starts to drag it out of camp towards the burial place.
Watching him go he is frozen with dread. What if he's too late to save Yellowfang. He had let the flaming tree trap her. The smoke could not be good for the old she-cat even if she made it to the safety of her den. However, shaking his thick pelt, he pushes his way to where there used to be a sheltering green tunnel before the fire. The Medicine cat's home is open to the sky, the only sound being the raindrops splattering on the slimy ground.
"Yellowfang!" he calls, his voice hoarse as he enters the clearing.
The rock where the Medicine has made her den is black with soot, but, mingled with the smell of ash, Graystripe detects the familiar scent of the old Medicine cat.
"Yellowfang?"
A low rasping mew answering him makes him prick his ears. She's alive! He thinks, relief flooding through him. He squeezes through the shadowy cave.
There is barely enough light to see. He has never been in here before, and he pauses for a moment, blinking his eyes as he adjusts to the gloom. At the foot of the wall is a row of herbs and berries, stained by smoke but not burned. He glimpses a pair of eyes shining at him from the far end of the narrow cavern.
"Yellowfang!" He mews in relief as he rushes to the Medicine cat's side. She lays with her legs crumbled beneath her, soot-covered and wheezing, too weak to move. She can barely hold his gaze and when she speaks her voice is breathless and feeble.
"Graystripe," she croaks, "I'm glad it's you who came."
"Of course I would. I wish I hadn't left you here." He presses his muzzle against her matted fur. "I'm so sorry."
"Did you save Patchpelt?"
He shakes his head hopelessly, "He had breathed in too much smoke."
"Halftail too," Yellowfang rasps.
Graystripe sees her eyelids quiver and begin to close, so he mews desperately, "But I saved Bramblekit."
He watches as Yellowfang closes her eyes, and he worries for her health. She's so weak. Why did he leave her in her time of need? Saving Bramblekit was important, but he cost the clan a Medicine cat.
"You're a brave warrior Graystripe," Yellowfang mews, suddenly opening her eyes wide, staring fiercely at him. "I could not be more proud of you than as Fireheart. A cat I considered to be my own son. And Starclan knows how many times I wish he was instead of…" she draws a shallow, grating breath, and he knows that every word stuck in her thorn sharp throat, "Brokentail."
He flinches, not expecting that the brutal Shadowclan leader had been her son, and that she wished Fireheart, a cat who she compared Graystripe to, to be her own son instead. Who knows what agonies she endured watching her own son destroy the clan she loved? And Medicine cats were forbidden to have kits so she couldn't raise her son properly and instead watch from afar.
Not knowing what else to do, he begins to lick her ears, hoping to soothe her, she continues, "I killed him. I poisoned him. I wanted him to die." Her rapsing admission collapses into painful coughing.
"Hush, Save your strength." He urges. He did not know this. But that explains how Brokentail died. But he cannot be angry at the Medicine cat for killing her own son. He was a bloodthirsty cat and had allied himself with Tigerclaw and honestly he's glad Yellowfang got rid of the ex-Shadowclan leader. That cat seemed to just cause problems.
"Let me fetch you some water," he offers.
But Yellowfang shakes her head slowly. "Water's no use to me now," she croaks. "I want to tell you everything before I…"
"You're not going to die! I can't….." He trails off, feeling a shard of ice pierce his heart. "Tell me what I can do to help you."
"Don't waste your time." Yellowfang coughs angrily. "I'm going to die whatever you do. But I am not afraid. Just listen to me."
He obeys respecting her wishes, but begs she would be silent. To save her breath so that she can live a few moments longer.
"I wish Fireheart or you could be my son, but I could not have borne cats like you. Starclan gave me Brokentail to teach me a lesson."
"What did you need to learn?" He protests, "You are as wise as Bluestar herself."
"I killed my own son."
"He had it coming!"
"But I was his mother," whispers Yellowfang. "Starclan may judge me now how they will. I am ready."
Unable to answer because of the emotions swirling in his chest, he dips his head and begins frantically licking her fur. Hoping his love for the old Medicine cat would keep her here just a bit longer.
"Graystripe." Yellowfang murmurs.
He pauses, "Yes?"
"Thank you for helping me with Cinderpelt. Tell my apprentice she will make a wonderful Medicine cat. Tell Bluestar I have always been grateful to become Thunderclan's Medicine cat. I only regret that I will miss watching has in store for you."
The old Medicine cat's voice trails away and her flanks heave with effort of sucking air into her smoke-scorched lungs. "Yellowfang!" he pleads, "Don't die!"
Her painful breathing claws at his heart and he knows there is nothing he can do. Just like Silverstream and Fireheart.
"Don't be afraid of Starclan. They will understand about Brokentail," he promises wretchedly. "You will be honored by our warrior ancestors for loyalty to your clanmates and for your endless courage. So many cats owe their lives to you. Cinderpelt would have died after her accident if you had not tended to her. And when there was greencough, you fought day and night…."
Graystripe cannot stop the words from tumbling out. Despite not having as deep of a connection to the Medicine cat, like Cinderpelt and Fireheart he couldn't help but praise her, despite her breathing having faded into everlasting silence. Yellowfang is dead.
Author's Note: Not going to lie I had tears well up in my eyes while writing this.
~Leafbranch