NINETEEN.

The idea that Scourge would demand a fight against the Ravine group's strongest warrior confused Rusty at first. The group had been nothing but peaceful and kind to the newcomer and now just because they wanted him to stay he now sought blood? "Why can't he just leave?" asked Princess, who followed the same thought process, "Why does there need to be a fight between them?"

"Well, that's an interesting question," said Filou with a nod, "So the Ravine is very easy to climb down, but incredibly difficult to climb up. Scourge will need another cat or two to assist with some very difficult jumps and make sure that he doesn't get stuck or hurt."

"So why doesn't he just ask a few cats for help?" asked Rusty.

" Boo! " jeered Socks and Ferris, clearly growing antsy by the distraction to the imminent violence, " Where's the fights? We want fights! "

Filou bit the inside of their mouth and sighed in frustration. "Let's just assume that the insistence that Scourge isn't allowed to leave makes him mad and that's why he starts the fight. And he's doing this because it's my story."

Rusty blinked. "Didn't you say you heard this story from someone else-"

" So Scourge seeks out the strongest warrior they have ," interrupted Filou firmly, "And so reluctantly the Ravine cats send forward this really strong cat who doesn't look too keen on fighting. But Scourge is mad , so he sends a few insults here and there to anger this cat and they soon start to fight. It's a massive brawl and everyone thinks that Scourge is going to lose since his opponent is…just over twice his size…" Ferris and Socks leaned in, thoroughly immersed. "And they fight and fight and claw and claw…but to everyone's shock, Scourge manages to pin him down… and kill the Ravine cat. "

The two brothers laughed and cheered while Princess looked very upset. "Scourge killed him? But they were so nice to him!"

"Well, Scourge doesn't care," said Filou with their eyes blazing, "He stands over the body and looking into the eyes of the horrified cats, proclaiming himself stronger than everyone in the Ravine and demanding to get the help he needs to climb the Ravine. Now everyone in the Ravine is furious that he just killed their strongest cat, so they all suddenly jump in and attack. But remarkably, one by one does this traveler fight back and claw and stab his way through every single attacker…cats young and old jump into the fray, enraged by this cat who had taken life from them…"

A sense of dread filled Rusty's stomach as his sibling lowered his voice to a sickeningly quiet tone. " By the time he was finished, he was coated in the blood of the Ravine cats, standing victorious. And those who were left, those who chose not to fight, were now afraid of him, begging him for mercy. So Scourge turned to them, demanded that they help him up the side of the Ravine.

"And it was so. Scourge ascended the side of the Ravine still covered in the blood of those he killed. The blood that dripped down back into the gorge and onto the pelts of the cats that helped him up and brought him to the other side. Maybe there would come a day later in his life where Scourge would regret shedding the blood he did to make it here, but he got what he wanted.

"Even though blood trailed behind him, the trail showed the path he followed to victory."

"And then she said to grab…wait, it was this one?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it was-…wait, she said that chervil was green and leafy?"

"They're all green and leafy, you mousebrain!"

"Yeah, I know that!" snapped Firepaw irritably as he used his paw to tenderly shift the herbs around to try and find where this "chervil" was. He and Sandpaw were in the ThunderClan medicine den, using the knowledge that Yellowfang had sent them off with to try and treat Dustpaw's infected wound. It was really nasty now, swelling and turning the skin around it a putrid puce yellow, and the bracken tom was moaning in pain with almost every breath. "Wait…" Firepaw pointed to a pile of white flowers, "She said it had white flowers. That's it, right?"

" Those are flowers! " retorted Sandpaw with a groan, "It's a green root with little white flowers!"

"Littler than that!? How am I supposed to see smaller flowers than-...oh," Firepaw checked a pile he had been glancing over and poked at the pile, "Okay, I think I found it."

" Finally, " Sandpaw rolled her eyes, "Now she said to…chew it up? Make it into a poultice or something."

"Okay, I've seen Spottedleaf do that before…" said Firepaw. He gave the herb a curious sniff, noting how sweet the chevril smelled. Using his claws daintily, he extracted two roots from the pile and leaned down to start chewing on them.

The ginger tom almost gagged and spat it back out. The taste was horrible , even though the smell was lovely. Making a disgusted face at Sandpaw, he slowly chewed and tried not to have everything come back up while moving back to Dustpaw and glancing down at his infected wound.

"StarClan, can you chew any slower ?" grumbled Sandpaw in irritation, "We don't have all day." Firepaw glared at her before suppressing a gag, wishing he could talk so that he could ask if she wanted to try. After grinding his teeth together to mash up all of the roots, he leaned over the infection and spit out the green-ish poultice right into the wound.

" AH! Owowowowowow-! " yelped Dustpaw in pain, almost jolting out of his nest and forcing Sandpaw to hold him down. Tongue out and gagging in disgust, Firepaw began to spread the chervil into the wound. It was sticky. The ginger tom didn't know if it was the poultice or the wound itself. Or both.

Once the wound was completely covered, Firepaw stepped away and desperately tried to wipe his pad against the floor of the den to clean it. "Please for the love of StarClan tell me that worked…" he groaned, letting out another gag at the bitter taste of the chervil still searing into his tongue.

Sandpaw took a look. "Well, we won't know right away, but we did what she told us to do," said the apprentice, "I'll patch it up with cobwebs."

" Eugh! " gagged Firepaw again, "How do medicine cats do this every day? That taste was vile. "

"Really? I couldn't tell…could you do your drowning rat impression louder?" retorted the tan she-cat, at which Firepaw rolled his eyes. "Well, that was the worst wound, I think. But we still got…most of the Clan to go."

The two apprentices had returned from their hunting session at sundown, much later than anyone was expecting them to. While Yellowfang was telling them about the herbs that they needed to use, the three of them just barely were able to get out of sight from a ShadowClan patrol. So after spending the rest of the daylight in a tree with the most wanted cat in the forest, the two apprentices had returned and immediately gone into the medicine den to get to work.

News had spread about what Firepaw had said to Bluestar about Spottedleaf possibly "guiding" them, and now their Clanmates were talking with the most life in their voices in days as they waited to get treated. Most of what Yellowfang had said to do was pretty intuitive, but making sure Dustpaw and those with the nastiest of wounds were treated correctly for keeping their story of getting divine guidance straight.

And also because they didn't want to accidentally kill any of their Clanmates. That part was also important.

The next few patients were pretty easy to deal with, the two apprentices patching up some wounds and giving out poppy seeds. Firepaw was admittedly a little nervous with how much poppy seeds they were giving out, remembering how Mousefur had bluntly called it a "drug," but Yellowfang said that the only cats who would be pushing for more were cats that likely were already dealing with some issues. With the cuts and bruises of most of the Clan cats either already healing or taken care of, the ginger tom felt like he could relax a bit. This was a good first step, getting the energy back into the other members of the Clan. Plus, knowing basic herb etymology couldn't ever be a bad thing to know.

By sundown, most of everyone had been treated. Dustpaw's perpetual agony was finally starting to break as he finally drifted off to a poppy-assisted sleep, with Sandpaw noting that the angry swelling had started to go down. With only two poultices needed to be made, Firepaw thought that their job was a smooth finish away…

Then, near the beginning of the night, Whitestorm peeked in and nudged a hapless and apathetic Lionheart in until he flopped down onto the floor of the den. On the surface he looked like an easy patch up, though there was a pretty nasty cut on the side of his muzzle that still looked sore, but Firepaw winced at the body language of the deputy. He didn't even know if the two apprentices could even begin to try and mend the mental wounds he clearly had.

It was sad, seeing a cat once symbolizing nobility and bravery look so hollow and lifeless. Whitestorm looked especially sad, trying to smile and mouth " Do the best you can " to his apprentice without looking like he was about to cry.

Sandpaw looked upset the more she looked at Lionheart, almost like she was angry at him for being depressed. But as she looked over his wounds and started to reach for the cobwebs, the ginger tom dragged her aside.

" I have an idea, " he whispered, " You know how Yellowfang said that she needed a few warriors for her plan to work? "

Sandpaw shook his head. " You can't be serious. He doesn't even look like he wants to use the dirtplace right now. "

" I know, but…if we tell him that there's a plan for getting the kits back, then maybe he'll be on his paws again. "

" But we can't just tell him about Yellowfang, " hissed the tan she-cat, " He still thinks that it's her fault the kits were stolen. If anything, he'll just get back on his paws to kill us in this den. Besides…didn't she specifically say that she didn't want Lionheart? "

" Well… " Firepaw paused, " Then we do what she says. We don't tell him that Yellowfang willingly gave us this plan. "

Sandpaw looked at him like he was crazy, a look that Firepaw had seen far too many times today. " You can't possibly think that's a good idea. "

" Listen…what if we say something like…we found her but before we kill her, we made her beg for her life and promise that she would help overthrow ShadowClan in exchange for…I don't know, a chance to run far away and never be seen again. "

" But Lionheart will just kill her anyway, surely. That's the exact reason why she didn't want him involved- "

" What's more important? " said Firepaw, green eyes glowing intensely, " Killing Yellowfang? Or getting his kits back alive? "

" I- " Sandpaw paused to consider it and seemed irritated that she agreed, " Okay, fine. You're right. But guess what happens if we do get the kits back alive? Lionheart and Whitestorm still she's guilty of causing this and kill her anyway. Then who's gonna be our medicine cat? "

Firepaw hadn't thought that far ahead. " Ratspit… "

" Do you see why I think this plan is a bad idea, Firepaw? Whoever we pick to send to her, we have to use them to make a plea for her to fill this spot. And I don't think saying that she's the only cat qualified and willing will be enough to sell, I don't know, the fathers of the kits her former Clan stole? "

The apprentice's brain was starting to twist in knots as he tried to think of a solution. " Look, I know that it's not perfect…but Lionheart is clearly our best option. We get him on our side and Yellowfang's plan will go through- "

" We have so many other warriors to choose from! " hissed Sandpaw, "Yeah, they don't like her either. But at least we wouldn't be picking someone who believes that she destroyed his entire life- "

" But he'll be desperate, " insisted Firepaw firmly, glancing at the deputy slumped on the den nest. " I think the moment he finds out that the kits are still alive…he'll do anything to get them back. And we need to use that. "

That got to Sandpaw. There was that look on her face again - that of mystification and disgust about who he really was. " How can you say that? " she said quietly.

" We need to win, Sandpaw. " Firepaw doubled down. This was the best way, he was sure of it. " Because if we don't get the kits now, they might be dead before we rally together for a patrol. And if they're gone? Then who's next?"

The tan she-cat was not happy at all. But eventually she sighed and gave up. " You're the chosen one, I suppose. " Firepaw almost wanted to snap at her for how she stretched and defaced the word along her tongue, but he just took in the relief that his fellow apprentice was going to help him out.

"We need to get him in a good mood Something that will get him conscious and able to listen. " The ginger tom thought hard, glancing at the herbs. " We can give him a poppy seed but not enough to get him to fall asleep…was it honey that also helps soothe aches? "

Sandpaw's eyes lit up suddenly. " Give him the poppy seeds. I have an idea. " She stepped out of the den to call Whitestorm while Firepaw gently plucked one of the tiny black seeds onto his paw and carried it over to the forlorn deputy.

"Eat this," he said. The deputy murmured and glanced at his paw before sighing and not opening his mouth. "Come on, Lionheart. It'll help with the pain."

" Don't think it will… " murmured the golden tom. Firepaw was moments away from groaning in frustration, reminding himself that he had just lost seven cats in one night and he had a right to be depressed.

"Well, it's better than nothing," insisted the ginger apprentice, glancing up at Sandpaw guiding Whitestorm in and gesturing to the larger golden toml. "Please, Lionheart. I think we can help you."

Lionheart glanced at the poppy seeds closely and immediately backed off. " Don't wanna fall asleep… " he said quietly. Firepaw couldn't blame him - he sure didn't envy the nightmares he was certainly going through when he did sleep.

Gingerly, Firepaw nudged one of the two poppy seeds off of his pad and back onto the pile. "There. I cut the dose so it just relaxes you. Now you won't fall asleep…trust me," he insisted while Whitestorm was stepping over the back of his mate. " Besides, when's the last time you gave your mate a massage? " he heard Sandpaw say quietly.

Firepaw thought back to when he did the same to Graypaw and blushed, thankfully distracted by the deputy slowly sticking his tongue out and lapping up the poppy seed from his outstretched paw. As he swallowed, Lionheart grunted in surprise as he felt Whitestorm's paws dig into his back and begin to rub him firmly. "Hm?"

"Just relax," said Sandpaw calmly. She flashed a quick glance to Firepaw and he nodded. Whitestorm rubbing out the tension in his mate's muscles combined with the soothing of the poppy seed surely was plenty to loosen up whatever was ripping the deputy apart for a bit. All he needed was for Lionheart to not have a breakdown and to keep the exchange a secret regardless of if he approved or not.

It was like watching snow melt in the sun. Though he was clearly not experienced with the art of massaging, Whitestorm soon found his rhythm, leaning in and rolling his paws into the larger warrior's back. At first, Lionheart actively tried to resist feeling anything other than moody depression, but he slowly began to smile and let his eyes slip closed. As the white warrior rubbed at his flanks, a deep purring filled the den that made the white warrior's yellow eyes sparkle with delight.

Firepaw couldn't help but smile at this moment of peace. There probably weren't many left before they came face to face with ShadowClan, after all.

"There you go…" said Whitestorm with a bright smile as he dismounted his mate's back, "Made sure to be extra thorough to really work it in there." He gave Lionheart's haunches a whack with his paw, making the deputy jolt and give an adorable little chuckle. "You two need anything else from me?"

Moment of truth. "Actually…yeah, we do."

Firepaw sighed as Whitestorm sat back down, looking at him curiously. Lionheart looked like a dopey blob of thick and sticky amber fur, but his eyes glanced up to the apprentice as he sat down, trying to think of how to do this right. With one last look at Sandpaw, who gave a nod of encouragement, he sighed.

"We didn't want to tell the rest of the Clan right away because…you two lost your kits. And you deserve to know first what Sandpaw and I did today," Firepaw calmed himself as best he could before giving the kicker. "We got Yellowfang today."

Instantly , Lionheart was on his paws as if he had never felt the weight of depression in his life, eyes wide in shock. Whitestorm was right by his eyes, breath hitching. " Are you serious? She's dead!? "

"No, but…" started Firepaw nervously, trailing off. Lionheart narrowed his eyes in heavy suspicion, the accusatory look making the apprentice just as afraid as he was when he had first seen the deputy as a kittypet, "We were going to, but she…"

Whitestorm stared at him, looking betrayed. "Firepaw…you're not saying that she-"

" The kits are alive. Your kits, " insisted Firepaw immediately, "And Yellowfang…well, she has a plan to get them back."

Whoosh. If the sight of Lionheart and Whitestorm both coming to life and exhorting the heavy blanket of grief that had wracked them in a single motion had a sound, that's what it would be. They stared at him, at Sandpaw and back again. They looked at each other. Emotions danced around in their bodies, so uncontained that the white warrior looked like he was about to cry with joy and the deputy was ready to race out of camp to get them back himself.

And then the rejoicing broke down under the weight of Yellowfang's name. "She's lying. She's got to be," said Lionheart, aggressively shoving away the joy he felt moments ago.

"But what if she isn't? " protested Firepaw, trying desperately to come up with something, "She looked disgusted when I talked bout the kits…like, even if she is a traitor, she said she didn't think kits would ever be involved. Clearly, she feels bad enough about it that she made a plan for us to get them back-"

" Do you think I care about that traitor having regrets!? " snapped Lionheart angrily, "I don't know what bees have gotten into your brain, but what's happened has happened. They took them. What kind of plan could she have made to sell you? "

"The kits are alive, Lionheart," insisted Sandpaw, standing next to the ginger tom, "We can get them back! They're not gone forever yet-"

" And now we're supposed to follow the plan of one of the cats who made taking them possible!? " snapped Whitestorm, who looked just as angry. "Sandpaw, how have you not considered the possibility that this is all a big trap!?"

"Look, if you two just talk to her-" stammered Firepaw desperately.

" No! " snapped Lionheart, " I will not speak to that ShadowClan scum unless she is saying her dying words under my claws. She took my kits! She killed their mother! "

"She didn't do any of that! Those were the ShadowClan warriors."

"Oh, is that so!? Well, even if she didn't draw the blood herself, it wouldn't have been possible if it wasn't for her, would it? " spat the raging deputy, " How dare you ask me to try and collaborate with her, Firepaw. How could you ask me that thinking I'd possibly be willing to believe anything that she says!? How can you even believe her- "

" Because I'm sick of doing nothing! " roared back Firepaw as he got right into the warrior's face. Just like the burn he felt when he stood up to Bluestar and Lionheart that very first night in the forest. "I am sick… of everyone just moping around with no interest in taking revenge for what we lost, especially when these kits are still alive and able to be saved. I am done with everyone feeling like we already lost. Because we haven't lost yet. We still have our camp, we still have a leader and deputy. And I know that you have lost more than any other cat in this Clan maybe ever will…but now we have a chance to get them back. And at this point, wouldn't you take any plan at all instead of staying in mourning…being afraid to go to sleep and reliving it over and over again even though we have a chance to fix it? "

"Firepaw-" started Whitestorm.

" Because I would be! In fact, I already am! " Firepaw felt that familiar burn in his chest and face as every emotion stuffed into him spilled into the world with every word that passed his tongue. "I had to watch my medicine cat, one of my only true friends here, die right in front of me. Spottedleaf is gone. Ravenpaw is gone, too. And now I have to watch my deputy look like his life is over, even after finding out his kits are still out there. Now I have to watch my mentor give your responsibilities over to a cat who anyone could see almost pushed Ravenpaw to his breaking point! And now…now I have someone who I care for more than anything in the world, someone who I would charge into ShadowClan by myself if he told me to-...Someone I love! "

There were no tears in Firepaw's eyes. This didn't sound like a plea. It sounded like he was the one in charge, trying to inspire his Clan to fight. "I have…someone I care about more than anything in the world in that apprentice den. Someone who I want to spent the rest of my life with. But I can't do that if everyone around me believes that there is no hope to be found! If the deputy that I put my entire faith into won't go after the kits he loves more than life itself by any means necessary! I can't do anything if we've already accepted that ThunderClan is dead! "

Firepaw paused to take a few shuddering breaths. Lionheart and Whitestorm looked stunned, eyes wide at the apprentice. "I refuse…to stand on the side any longer. Six of our own are in their camp… your six kits. I told you from the very beginning, Lionheart. I came to ThunderClan to be a great warrior. I don't care if this is an unwinnable fight any longer, because we have a chance . All we need is a chance. If it's a trap, I'm going to fight with every ounce of love and honor I have for being a member of ThunderClan until those cussing sewerstains rip my heart out and my blood paints the floor of their camp. I will fight to stay alive because I have cats I love, but if I am to die, I will accept no death that isn't in ThunderClan's name. Because I've been waiting for something to fight for my entire cussing life…and I will surrender whatever I must…in the name of ThunderClan. "

Silence. Firepaw's words seemed to echo through the den over and over again. The apprentice's heart beat loudly in his chest, the dm-dm, dm-dm, dm-dm so loud in his ears that he wondered if the other three cats in the den could hear him. Both warriors looked at a loss for words, eyes shimmering emotions Firepaw couldn't read. Even Sandpaw, the usually stoic, snarky and prickly she-cat whose ambition to be the best matched his own, looked at him with wide and softer eyes, pondering him as if he were a mystery to be solved. A sign to be studied for generations. The ginger tom hadn't yet processed everything he said, but the way his entire body seemed to burn with unwavering conviction empowered him. He knew that everything he said was the truth.

He loved ThunderClan. He would die for ThunderClan. This beautiful, glorious place that the ancestors had tied him to and that had thrown hardship after hardship at him, surely to make him as strong as he believed he could be.

" Fire will save the Clan. "

It came from Lionheart in a whisper. He looked in awe of the apprentice, like he had come down from StarClan himself. "Bluestar told me that. And when I saw you at first I didn't believe it, but…there's something about you, young Firepaw. Something truly special. Maybe it's always been there all along."

Firepaw took a deep breath. "Please, Lionheart. Who knows if we'll get a chance to get them out safely if we attack together? We can't just pass this up."

Lionheart closed his eyes in thought. The ginger tom watched, not daring to breathe as the deputy looked up at the sky as if asking the stars themselves for guidance. Then he looked to his mate, the tom he loved more than anything in the world. The two had a silent conversation Firepaw couldn't hear through just looks alone, the sign of a truly special connection, before he sighed heavily and turned back.

"Firepaw…you know that I cannot trust Yellowfang. Quite frankly, I'm baffled why you even tried."

The ginger tom felt crushed, about to grieve that he had poured out his very soul to the deputy and it had all been for nothing.

" But… all that aside…everything that you've said…Perhaps what transpires of this is not about forgiving her…but realizing who you can really be."

Firepaw stopped, looking at the deputy. Lionheart and Whitestorm's faces still had those creases of loss and rage imprinted on them, but there was unquestionable loyalty in the way they stood to smile softly at him. Is this for real? Is this real life? he asked himself. Two of the strongest warriors in ThunderClan who had everything taken from them…whatever he had said, they believed in him.

He looked at Sandpaw. She mainly looked confused as to how Firepaw had made his ill-advised plan work, but she gave a nod of approval anyways.

This was actually happening. They were going to fight back.

"Listen…whatever happens going forward cannot have Bluestar or the rest of the Clan involved," said Firepaw, going right into planning, "Because if they find out that Yellowfang is involved in this plan, they'll never agree. Yellowfang said that she needs at least one more warrior and two apprentices to make this work. Sandpaw and I can be the apprentices that go, that's no problem-"

"You're kidding, right?"

Firepaw glanced at Sandpaw, who had an eyebrow raised. "Look, I'm flattered and I would love to go. But don't tell me you're picking me over the apprentice that you just professed your feelings for. I know you two are on the rocks and I'm - no offense - more skilled than Graypaw, but…you'll trust him more. And everyone that goes is gonna need to trust each other completely."

The ginger tom felt his face burn at that, glancing sheepishly back at an amused Lionheart. "She's got a point. If we're doing this in secret, Graypaw Is quite good at being stealthy. And he will trust you, no question."

"I just…" murmured Firepaw quietly, "I…what if he gets hurt?"

"HA!" laughed Whitestorm, "Adorable…you two really do like each other, don't you?"

"I know my apprentice, Firepaw," said Lionheart with a smile, "Whatever happens…I know that he'll fight as hard as he's ever fought if it's for the kits. And especially if it's for you…at least, that's what he's told me many times."

"See what I mean about you two being the last cats to realize?" said Sandpaw with a smirk.

They were right, but Firepaw's fear was a lot more genuine than he initially thought. He was afraid of losing him already with the silent treatment he was getting but the thought of him dead? He couldn't even stomach the thought. It was unnerving, feeling so vulnerable and attached to someone else that wasn't even his family. But Graypaw was more. Maybe he had always been more. And even though his first instinct was to protect him from harm altogether, Firepaw knew that he would want to fight. Because he cared. He cared so much that it eroded his walls down to a point where he'd never thought they'd be.

The apprentice stood. He knew what he had to do. "I want Mousefur as our third warrior. Can you get us on the morning patrol?" Firepaw asked Lionheart, who nodded, "Alright…I'll take you to Yellowfang then, and she'll tell us the plan. And we'll just go from there." Before he could leave, Firepaw felt the deputy's tail brush across his flank, making him stop and turn.

"I just want to say…" said the golden tom with a twinkle in his eye, "That whatever happens…even though we got off on the wrong paw, I am proud to call you a member of ThunderClan. Thank you, Firepaw, for everything."

The ginger tom grinned proudly. "ThunderClan forever, Lionheart. Until the day I die."

"Graypaw?"

Firepaw hadn't gone right to the apprentice den when he left. He had paced outside for a few minutes to collect his thoughts. His incredibly rambly thoughts. Because he was going to go in there and try to tell someone that he had never cared for more in his life that he wanted him to come along on a semi-secret mission to save his mentor's kits. And also probably that he really, really liked him and that he wanted to be his mate when they became warriors.

StarClan. He hadn't even thought about being a warrior in what felt like moons . Everything had been about now, the dreadful present with a murky future. Getting his name, getting Graypaw as his mate…he was young. If he made it out alive, then had a full life to live. A full life with him.

Back when he entered the Clan, the thought of fighting for something other than being the best of them all was non-sensical, let alone someone else being as special as valor. But he knew that he wasn't the same tom that almost ripped Longtail's throat out on the first day anymore. He was someone that Spottedleaf knew would be as great as the stars said, someone Ravenpaw found to be deeply special, someone that Lionheart was proud to be Clanmates with.

He didn't know how much he'd grown or how much room there was left to grow, but Firepaw knew at that moment that he had changed. And after a full kithood of change being demonized and the only escapism from the survivalist life of just providing for the family being silly stories, he knew that the change was good.

Now here he was, sitting at Graypaw's nest. The apprentice looked to be asleep, back turned to him. "Are you…are you awake?"

The apprentice gave no indication that he was awake. But Firepaw didn't feel like stopping or trying to wake him up. Everything that had entangled his heart with the young gray tom was at their boiling point, threatening to simmer over and spill out.

"Listen, I…if you can hear me, then…I just want to tell you that there's a plan for getting the kits back from ShadowClan." It was just them in the apprentice den. Firepaw never thought that it could ever feel as big and harrowing as it did now. "I found Yellowfang and she said that she has a plan…and I was able to convince Lionheart and Whitestorm to go along with it…and they're gonna talk to Mousefur, but I need another cat. And I really, really want that cat to be you."

Graypaw didn't move. The reality of their relationship being wrecked beyond repair encroached over the desperate ginger tom, pouring desperation into his voice. "No, I need you. Because there's no other cat in this Clan that I trust the most. You are kind and smart and…always on the bright side of things and I wish I appreciated all of that long before now. And I know that I hurt you and I know you're still upset… And it hurts me too because… "

Ratspit, he was going to cry again, wasn't he? "I was wrong! None of what I said is true! I…I know that I kept secrets from you, things that I wish I told you before and I know that…all this time you've given me nothing but all of you. And I know that I've been taking this for granted…I-I've just never had someone like you in my life. Someone so…special. "

Firepaw's voice was cracking as he spoke. " You're so genuinely kind…you care more than I thought anyone else can care. You bring nothing but joy and…joy and JOY into this world. I've been ungrateful…I've been cold, I've been a cat that doesn't deserve to have someone as amazing as you. But the reason I have hope that we can save Lionheart's kits…the reason why…I want to fight for the future of ThunderClan…is because the future of ThunderClan will have you . "

Pause. Firepaw's plea and shaking breaths seemed to echo through the empty den.

"I really…really like you, Graypaw. I have for…so long. And I'm so, so, so sorry about everything that I've said because it's not true and it never will be. And I know I've said…all of these things about…being the greatest warrior, but…

Say it, Firepaw.

Just say it.

"I want nothing more now than to have you by my side. Fighting with me. I want to be yours. "

Firepaw still hated feeling vulnerable, so exposed. It made the world feel cold and threatening, like his weakness wasn't welcome. And as he finished pouring his heart out in front of Graypaw's still body, the ginger tom slowly lowered his head and wept.

Was it all for nothing? Had Firepaw really pushed away the greatest cat he'd ever known all before he realized how special he truly was to him? The ginger tom thought he'd cry forever, cry until he had no heart left to spill out.

But after some time, either a few seconds or a lifetime of silence, there was a rustling in the nest before him. And then there was a paw, slowly lifting his chin. And Firepaw opened his eyes to see Graypaw.

His beautiful green eyes glittered in the night and his face was shining with a joyous smile. And when he spoke, it was the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard.

" Yes. "

Firepaw, starry-eyed, said nothing as Graypaw slowly leaned in and pressed his nose against his own. " Yes. " He said it again, voice still quiet. " Yes. "

It didn't strike Firepaw just how much this was, this confession. Was it even real? Life was a massive thing and both of these two toms were right at the start. Firepaw felt too small for such massive, all-encompassing emotions for someone like this. A kind of thorough and unwavering affection, a need to lay down his life and give everything he could possibly give to this tom who, in the span of two moons, weaseled his way into so much of his heart that the thought of him being gone hurt to think about.

Was this love? Maybe it was, maybe he wasn't there yet. But Firepaw couldn't deny that whatever this feeling could be was the most beautiful feeling he'd ever known. Something that his mother never gave him, something his siblings never gave him. This unconditional adoration that soared above the threats of the world and tied them together forever.

They were still as close as they could be. Firepaw could feel his nose pressed up against Graypaw's, every breath seemed to cause a shockwave that passed through his muzzle and rippled all the way down to his paws. His heart was in his chest, his mouth, everywhere it could be. Here, the world was beautiful. A perfect haven from the cold space of reality.

"We, uh…we have some…things we should talk about, still," said Graypaw quietly. His voice was delicate, as if speaking too loud would disrupt the euphoria completely.

"Yeah…right…"

"And we still have to-"

"Get our names?" breathed Firepaw, "Yeah, I…I know…"

"Firepaw, I…I know that we've only known each other for a season, but…being yours? I…I've wanted that for a long time."

"Yeah…me too…"

Graypaw's purrs seemed to massage his very soul, releasing a knot of all-encompassing affection Firepaw didn't know he had tied. His scent, his rich and intoxicating scent that blended ThunderClan with the smell of a greenleaf morning, delicious prey and the sculpted smell of happiness made just for the ginger tom flowed through him. For a moment did he feel cleansed of his sins, like the blood on his fur and the dirt in his pads from his journey out of his past and into this perfect present were being washed by an invisible stream. Being mates, being with this tom for life… Firepaw knew only of a short life that died in a blaze of glory, but even death felt like a numb thought immune to this enrichment.

He wanted to live in this forever. However long or short forever turned out to be.

"We gotta…chat with her tomorrow…" murmured Firepaw into Graypaw's fur. His silky, soft fur that felt how the clouds in the sky looked. "And Yellowfang, she-"

"Shh…" hushed Graypaw. Even from the way his chest pulsed and his voice dripped into his brain like holy water, Firepaw knew that his friend did not want to speak of the future. And neither did he - they wanted this moment. The union between two cats that had fallen so hard and so fast for each other that even this felt seasons overdue. As if the time they had together would disappear if they even broke away.

Graypaw slowly sunk back into his nest, guiding Firepaw with him. Common practice was to combine the nests of two partners, but even the dirt of the still-damaged den felt soft and gentle on his fur. As they snuggled up, the ginger apprentice heard Graypaw giggle in excitement. " Sorry…just can't believe this is happening… " he whispered into his ear.

Firepaw couldn't either. As the scent of his beloved scintillated his senses, cleaning them of the dread that was to come, he remembered that night when he held Graypaw not unlike this. When he spoke into existance a name that he now wanted to have more than anything.

And so Firepaw, for the first time in his life, closed his eyes and prayed directly to StarClan. Not out of fear or desperation. Right from the soul.

StarClan…if I make it through this, please let my name be Fireheart.

" You brought WHO? "

"Look, I know that you said not to…" said Firepaw hastily. It was the morning after and the sun had yet to warm up the forest from the overnight chill, making Yellowfang's anger all the more biting on his skin. "But if you'll just hear me out- "

"I can't believe you," snapped the medicine cat angrily, "I mean…either you really are as dense as a rock trying to float on water or you've been planning to have me killed this entire time. Which one is it? "

"I told them about how you-"

" No, don't even say it. I refuse to believe you brought them out here with anything less than first dibs on killing me." Yellowfang didn't even seem afraid, just completely caught off-guard. "Some chosen one…wow… "

This really wasn't the time to get into an argument. Lionheart and Whitestorm were not too far away and the amount of patience they had for Yellowfang was so little that it whittled away at the patience they usually had for Firepaw. " Look, I convinced them to follow the plan. Just like you asked, right? You do have a plan, right?"

"Wha-...of course I do, you pigeonbrain!" retorted the medicine cat.

"Then tell it to them. " Firepaw stood his ground.

"And what? They'll put a flower crown on my head and forgive me of my sins?"

"No, but they're going out there to save their kits. Who they love more than they hate you." The apprentice didn't even know if that was completely true, but it was all he had so he was going to run with it. "And the longer you keep them waiting…the longer you're keeping them from getting to save them…"

Yellowfang's glare was as cold as ice. It briefly reminded Firepaw of their first interaction, that look of cold hatred. "Was it always your plan to threaten me like this?"

"Even if it was," said Firepaw coldly, "Do you think you're in a position to complain about it?"

Clearly, Yellowfang didn't like being cornered and forced to do someone else's will very much. But she silently got to her paws. "If you get me killed today, I promise I will dedicate my afterlife to haunting you," she hissed angrily at him while they walked.

A short walk later, Firepaw stepped through a stretch of bushes outlining the clearing where the four other ThunderClan recruits were waiting.

Lionheart and Whitestorm stood in front. They were absolutely furious, their eyes glaring right into Yellowfang's as if they were trying to shove needles down her throat. The poorly restrained wrath of the two fathers robbed of their sons and daughters put the apprentice on edge - this was a bad idea, bringing the two of them face-to-face with the she-cat they thought responsible. Behind them, Mousefur and Graypaw looked on with complicated expressions, both having their own private doubts about Yellowfang's traitor status that they didn't dare express to the two senior warriors.

"Alright." Firepaw ordered coldly, "Talk."

Yellowfang looked genuinely uncomfortable. And if this were any other lifetime where he knew nothing about her innocent, he would be relishing it. The wrath in the fathers' eyes was a strain Firepaw couldn't even feel comfortable glancing at, let alone having those two pairs of eyes rip into him and think of different ways to pick him apart. "Look, I…I just want to say-"

" Save the apologies. For when we get our kits back, " snarled Lionheart, his anger eerily akin to Tigerclaw, " Or tell us it's a trap right now so we can be over with killing you. "

"R-Right…" murmured Yellowfang. She took a moment to herself. From behind the two senior warriors, Firepaw caught a suspicious glance from Graypaw questioning her plan and he just shrugged and nodded. This was all they had right now, whether they liked it or not.

"I heard through a patrol walking by that Brokenstar is assembling ShadowClan to try and attack RiverClan. He's planning to bring out warriors from ShadowClan, pass through WindClan to pick up the rest and then hammer them at their camp. This means that there will be time where the camp is not occupied by either Brokenstar or his senior warriors."

"Not like we can just walk in and take them, though," said Mousefur flatly.

"ShadowClan's camp is surrounded by marsh reeds reinforced with mud," continued Yellowfang, "The mud dries up in greenleaf and freezes in leafbare, which can make the wall difficult to penetrate, but I know for a fact that Brokenstar is slacking on defenses. He's getting cocky…he's not expecting a counterattack like this."

" We're just supposed to believe that the most dangerous cat in the forest is getting sloppy? " growled Whitestorm.

"You know how much confidence a psychopath gets when he kidnaps six kits, kills their mother and breaks the spirit of an entire Clan so much they have to go to me for help?" retorted the medicine cat, the confidence in her voice starting to rebuild, "Enough for me to tell you that he didn't rebuild the walls back up after the storm where he attacked us."

Lionheart glared at Firepaw briefly - he was not happy that he was getting attitude from someone he had convinced not to kill on sight. " And how do the kits get out? "

There will definitely be a patrol left behind. Brokenstar isn't that stupid. So we need some kind of signal to lure the kits to a place where we can break them out and we'll need a distraction to get eyes off of wherever they're being held. That's where you two can come in…" Yellowfang trailed off briefly, "Well, I was originally going to have you fake being traitors, but you seem like bad actors anyway. You are good at looking threatening, though. Maybe you just standing there will be-"

" You said a scent? That they can recognize? " interrupted Lionheart coldly, "What exactly are they supposed to smell? They might not even be able to smell what's in front of them for how long they've been in that stench. How are we supposed to tip them off by scent without standing right outside the nursery?"

Yellowfang clearly hadn't thought of that. Her hesitation spoke volumes more than when she responded a moment later. "You can just mark a dock leaf."

Whitestorm narrowed his eyes. " What? "

"Y'know…take a dock leaf and…y'know..." Yellowfang gestured vaguely with her forepaw, "Like what you do to make borders."

Everyone looked repulsed by that idea, wincing and groaning at the image. Lionheart probably felt the same way, but it was indistinguishable from his fast-growing ire.

"Wonderful! This is absolutely fantastic, you know that!?" hissed the deputy, about to pop a nerve, "I come all the way out here, risking all of our reputations as well as my own status as deputy…and you're asking for just a 'small portion' of my scent? Have you completely lost your mind? is this your way of mocking me?"

"Maybe there's something else we can use," offered Firepaw quickly, trying to stop a brawl from breaking out between the tom and ShadowClan molly desperately, "Like…some scent that reminds her of home…"

Yellowfang suddenly brightened with an idea. "That's it…we use chamomile."

Mousefur blinked at her in confusion. "Chamomile? Like…the flower?"

The medicine cat ignored her and looked Lionheart right back in the eyes. "Chamomile grows the most in ThunderClan territory…and it has an aroma that covers where it grows that you don't notice unless you haven't been around it for a while. That's why it's one of the first herbs we collect after leaf-bare."

" What's that got to do with getting the kits- "

"It's Cinderkit's favorite flower," said Yellowfang quietly, "And it's her favorite because it was Frostfur's favorite flower as well."

Lionheart stopped.

Several seconds went by where he looked unsure of if he was to move. He didn't know what to say, the spiraling anger suddenly wrapped in a chokehold.

" She…how…how did you- "

The medicine cat didn't let him finish, pushing through to finish her thought. "Normally I would try to get Brackenkit's attention because he's clearly the leader of the oldest litter…but Cinderkit will do just as well because he's closest with her. If we pass along a word to him through her that there's an escape plan, then he'll be the best candidate to gather the others and get them to follow us…"

Yellowfang looked right into the eyes of the two ThunderClan senior warriors. " Is that correct? "

The two fathers were speechless, staring blankly at the molly as if she had just spoken an incantation. Then Lionheart began to stutter while Whitestorm's eyes started to dampen in shock. "You…I…you know… all of this?" whispered the white-furred warrior, "How… How? "

An honest, sad smile was Yellowfang's answer. "I knew from the moment I was made a medicine cat that Frostfur would refuse to see me. But I know Brokenstar…and I knew then that he'd be willing to use anything to achieve victory. So I just watched…taking in everything I could see. I know that Cinderkit likes chamomile, I know that Brackenkit will never pass on eating a rabbit if it's available, I know Thornkit secretly loves to play the badger because he gets to carry Ashkit and Fernkit on his back. I know Brightkit loves the rain more than anything else in the world, I know that Ashkit is afraid of bugs and I know that Fernkit was the first kit to start calling Whitestorm 'Dada.'"

Firepaw could sadly sympathize with the overwhelming panic that gripped Lionheart and Whitestorm. The feeling of something they so firmly believed and latched on to being smashed to bits and rebuilt into something completely different. " Why didn't you stay? " whimpered the latter quietly, " You knew all this…but you still- "

"You two would have killed me the moment you saw me in camp after that battle," murmured the medicine cat with a bowed head, "Because you both lost everything you loved. And I know exactly what a cat who has lost everything feels like. "

Quiet filled the clearing, Firepaw keeping himself distant as Lionheart, Whitestorm and Yellowfang held their own private silence. A sudden threat of mutual understanding once thought to be unheard of. Now Ravenpaw's story was beginning to fall into place. Now the apprentice was beginning to see the cat his friend had seen - not a psychopathic kit-killer driven to insanity, an exiled and disgraced medicine cat going through some private journey of grief, knowing better than anyone her place in ThunderClan as an outcast. Someone who could never hope to build trust lest trust come in a blessing from the ancestors themselves.

Firepaw had never known less about the cat that had nearly slaughtered him all those weeks ago, but knew in his heart that she was going to keep to her word and save the kits her former Clan had taken from them.

" Do you still think that I would lay a claw on a kit? Your kits? " It was a plea. A desperate need for validation that Yellowfang was offering. Never before has she seemed so exposed and in need of validation. Maybe the kit-killing allegations had been ripping her apart more than Firepaw had realized.

The question drifted around the air of the clearing. Lionheart looked away, reached over and pressed his paw on top of his mate's, gently taking a moment to lean against his side.

His eyes opened. And the golden pupils that complimented his fur so vibrantly glittered with a rich shade of newfound respect and gratitude. "Chamomile," he said quietly, "It'll be perfect."

Yellowfang smiled. A look of genuine gratitude. Firepaw couldn't remember if he had seen her do that before. "How long until they attack?" said Firepaw, moving back to join the group in facing the medicine cat directly.

The medicine cat shrugged. "Brokenstar isn't the kind of leader to tell his warriors that they'll attack in three days. He'll just pick a day and go. I'll hang around camp as best as I can…hopefully he gives enough warning for me to track down one of you and alert you-"

"Well, if no one's going to ask the obvious question, then I will." Everyone turned back to look at Mousefur, who looked irritated. "What happens if we're ordered to attack before they try to get at RiverClan?"

Ratspit. Of course there was something they had overlooked. And it just so happened to be the cussing cat most likely to take glee in sabotaging a plan like this if he knew about it. Yellowfang deflated, fang digging into her bottom lip in frustration. "StarClan…well, I do suppose that takes care of having to invent a distraction. Slipping the kits out in the middle of battle might also be better-"

" Absolutely not. " It was Whitestorm who stepped in with a firm voice. "If we attack, they've got no reason to not come after the kits. If we're attacking, the kits are gone by the time we fight."

The medicine cat huffed. "That's not a promise I can make-"

" Then why are we not going over there now and taking the kits back? "

"Because the camp is full! " Yellowfang retorted. "Why do you think I immediately brought up the one time where ShadowClan won't have four or five pairs of eyes on their prized prisoners? You might as well try to sneak in through the main entrance and take a piece of prey from their pile with how impossible getting all six kits to sneak out unnoticed when everyone is there."

This was bad. This was a flaw that might cause the whole plan to fall apart. "Well, it's not like I can tell Bluestar to not attack," sighed Lionheart, "Everyone will say I've lost it."

"Well, unless you want to sacrifice one of your ancestors or something to make ShadowClan blind for long enough to sneak the kits out," the medicine cat growled, "Getting them out before a battle is pretty much impossible."

Whitestorm was growing more and more aggravated. And now Lionheart was starting to shake his head and back off. "No…there has to be some way-"

"I'll do it."

Firepaw knew it was a bad idea. At this point, he didn't care about the consequences of throwing himself into battle like this. "I'll lure them out with the chamomile. Alone. That way, if something goes wrong, then it's just me."

"I'm going, too, then," said Graypaw, stepping up to stand by Firepaw's side, "You're going to need a second cat. This isn't something you can do alone."

"Graypaw-" started Firepaw, panicking at the thought of his beloved coming so close to harm.

"I'll join you two," said Mousefur. "You two will be better if a warrior is by your side. And…I think I knew a few other ways I can cover you as well." Now the three of them were all stepped forward. Yellowfang looked absolutely dumbstruck.

"Okay, anyone else?" she said with a side-eye to Lionheart and Whitestorm, "Great. There is absolutely no way in StarClan that we're lining up three ThunderClan cats for this. We're barely getting away with three with the camp mostly empty! If that camp is full, then this is the slowest form of suicide I've ever seen."

"Well, it's like you said, Yellowfang," said Graypaw firmly, "This is about the kits." And if Firepaw could see Lionheart's face, he knew that it would be bright with pride.

Still, though, did the medicine cat shake her head. "No…look, it's honorable , what you're doing. But it doesn't mean anything if you just throw yourself at death like this-"

"Then we won't let them kill us," said Firepaw confidently, "Not until we know the kits are safe, we won't." He couldn't tell if Yellowfang was more impressed, disappointed or frustrated. Clearly the question she was asking as she stared at him was if every prophesied cat had the amount of misplaced confidence he had.

"Well, I suppose if… fine, " groaned the black-furred molly, "You three can do what you want if ThunderClan attacks. I suppose I'll use up the rest of my prayers to ask StarClan to stop Bluestar, then."

Firepaw felt the weight of his offering strike down upon his spine, then. He wanted to believe that Yellowfang was just paranoid and they could pull this off, but what if she was right? What if he hadn't just agreed to his own death, but roped in Graypaw and Mousefur to die alongside him as well? What if this was all for nothing, just as they all feared?

Well, there was always a chance that ThunderClan wouldn't attack too soon.