FIFTEEN.

TW: gore, homophobic slur

Over the next few days, Firepaw learned the unfortunate truth that even when the Clan was in wartime against a dangerous psychopath of a ShadowClan leader, apprentice duties waited for no one. And that included cleaning the elder's nests.

Despite the efforts that Whitestorm had gone through to try and add some rose petals to it, cleaning was still a punishment and Firepaw felt sick doing it. This time, however, Graypaw was there to suffer with him as well - courtesy of Lionheart. Despite their spy escapade not being found out, the apprentice had still been disciplined for leaving camp without permission. The ginger tom did consider standing up for him and trying to get his friend out of it, but selfishly decided to allow the opportunity for them to suffer through it together.

The mood in the elder's den certainly wasn't of high spirits as they were when Whitestorm had first shown him around. There was a lot less friendly banter and many of the old felines were either looking despondent or snapping at each other. Firepaw couldn't blame them - they had spent their whole lives living in this world and they were watching it fall apart. If only Halftail wasn't too sad to tell him and Graypaw a few stories…

"I dunno what the world's gon' do to ya now…" he had murmured quietly on the first day where Firepaw had cleaned out their nests, "This is…truthfully, it's a miracle y'all ain't losin' faith in the stars through this…"

The drab mood extended beyond the elder's den as well, into the pawsteps and posture of every warrior in ThunderClan. To Firepaw's great relief, they and RiverClan had not felt the respective tension rise between them. Bluestar had been open about what had happened in the meeting - Brokenstar had offered them immunity should they turn on those across the river and she had said no because it was obviously a trap, but some Clan cats didn't believe that was the full story. Rumors circled about a possibly fairer deal that Bluestar had turned down, which was ridiculous but certainly a consequence of the ThunderClan leader violating trust with Yellowfang.

But what had happened was a change in the border patrols to include checks on RiverClan. Firepaw had gone on one of those patrols and respectful discussions between Runningwind and a RiverClan warrior told him that Yellowfang's plan had worked - Mudfur had gone to Crookedstar and told him that Brokenstar was perhaps going to try and turn him against ThunderClan and warned him not to take any deal he proposed. "He actually never outright refused, but he did say that he wanted full control of WindClan's territory up front," the she-cat had said with a chuckle, "I heard Brokenstar was so offended he didn't even try to counter-offer."

ThunderClan and RiverClan certainly weren't friendly, but in a time where it was them and the ambitious ShadowClan in the forest, they had to be allies if they wanted to survive. Though he had yet to see RiverClan in battle and didn't know the chances of them joining forces in a full-scale attack, he could take comfort in one conflict being set aside for now in favor of a much bigger problem.

Halftail was not pleased about this when Firepaw returned to the elder's den after the patrol, though. "Ah'm sorry, Red…You deserve better than to have yer name spat on like this…" he had murmured sadly. The apprentice had almost pushed him on it, saying that surely Redtail would put aside his grievances if it meant getting ShadowClan out, but he left it alone. The old cat was from a different time and watching his world change with no say in it. He had a right to his own feelings.

But now it had been just over a week and there were no further developments. Everyone was waiting for Brokenstar to make a move, some like Darkstripe openly theorizing about when either Clan would be at their weakest so he could hit them when they were least expecting it. "Maybe they'll wait until the new kits become apprentices," he had said particularly boldly in camp while others were eating, "Then take them hostage and force us to give up territory!" Frostfur was not pleased about this theory and made it very clear by cursing out the apologetic tom in the middle of camp.

Firepaw would probably never be friends with Dustpaw, but the more he heard Darkstripe spread rumor after rumor of ShadowClan's plans to try and rally up enough of a fearful response the more he understood the bracken tom's distaste for his mentor.

But even though the theories were dumb and insensitive, the fears were real. Brokenstar felt most dangerous when he was quiet - he had been very patient waiting a week before turning his head on WindClan instead of doing it right after the Gathering. He seemed to know that every cat was going to treat him as a threat yet could only underestimate just how low into the mud he would go to get what he wanted. Firepaw had the chilling thought that even with WindClan being forced out, Brokenstar could still go farther - something that everyone in ThunderClan thought as well.

Well, almost everyone.

"Ooof…y'think that now they patrollin' RiverClan's border we can still carry ourselves ta Sunnin'rocks?" said Dappletail one sunhigh as Firepaw brought in some fresh prey, "It's gettin' hot again…and One-eye ain't gonna be wit us much longer…"

"One-eye's done been dead for seasons now," retorted Patchpelt in the middle of his loud chewing, "If she could be hearin' us, she'd probably ask us to just kill 'er right now!" One-eye was the oldest cat in ThunderClan, so old that she was a senior warrior when Dappletail was born. She had gone blind and deaf before Firepaw arrived and it was only until she had slowly leaned down and dug her rotting teeth into prey set before her that the ginger tom realized that ThunderClan weren't just keeping a corpse in the elder's den.

"Heck, I'd love to be her 'round now…" said Halftail, "Can ya imagine…just eating and gettin' new nests, not knowing the world's fallin' apart…"

"But they don't feed us our own food up there, y'know," said Patchpelt, "Ya gotta catch it…Ah've seen three leaf-bares in this here den, I want them ta keep bringin' me my food!"

"Ya got a point, Patch," said Dappletail with a wickedly teasing grin, "Cause if they let ya loose up there in StarClan, ya'd still eat the whole forest dry!" The elders chuckled at that, Firepaw smiling as well. A few days earlier Firepaw had asked how they were still able to joke around sometimes, and it was Dappletail that earnestly told him that fretting about the world didn't matter when you were about to die. "We seein' our families soon," she had said, "And we get ta go up there and watch over this here Clan anyway. StarClan ain't take us to them yet, so there's no point in worryin' about their plans until we're up there to decide them."

Even though none of the elders were immune to the pain that was coming from outside their den, it did answer the question of how they could be joking at a time like this. It was an example of undying faith in the ancestors, believing that they knew what they were doing because they had given each elder a fulfilling life of service. Firepaw just wished that he could have that kind of faith, except without the prerequisite of his time serving ThunderClan being complete.

Firepaw grabbed some moss from the side of the elder's den, a pile for making new nests that didn't require apprentices to go out and get more themselves, and laid it out just outside the den entrance. Kneading his sheathed paws, he spread out the moss in the grass and brushed it once over with his tail to keep the surface clear of any stray blades of grass or pebbles that would make the elders complain. As he finished up the nest, he glanced up and noticed Graypaw approaching with a mouse in his jaws.

It was an instant reaction, his heart immediately racing when he was coming towards him. Not even that, every time he saw the gray apprentice in camp would get him nervous.

"Uhh…hey," said Firepaw awkwardly.

"Hey." Graypaw dropped the mouse in front of him. "I was, uh…I was gonna ask if you wanted to share, but if you're busy-"

"No! No, I'm…don't worry, I'd…yeah, I'd love to," stammered the ginger tom. Get it together, Firepaw! He's still your friend. "Lemme just…I need to change Halftail's nest and then I'll be good to…eat."

"Okay…cool…great." They both stood in front of each other, not quite meeting the other's eyes for a while before the gray tom flinched and grabbed the mouse. There wasn't much left to the nest, but as Firepaw dragged it to Halftail he noticed a knowing raised eyebrow on the elder's face. "What?"

"Ya got some news or somethin' you ain't tell us yet, young one?" said the tom with a small smile.

"N-No?"

"Really? You an' that tom that got ya trippin' over ya words-"

"Oh! No, no…" said Firepaw in a panic, "That's not…we, uh…we're not…I…he…"

"Uh huh."

"It's just…we are…friends. We were friends and now…we are…still friends…" Every elder that could hear him looked at him with amused disbelief and Firepaw just sighed and bowed his head. "Just lemme take your nest…"

"If ya say so…" said Halftail, slowly getting up and shimmying onto the new blanket of moss. Firepaw hated the way the old nests he threw out smelled, but they did have the uncouth benefit of blocking out his brain so he had a few moments to himself where he wasn't thinking of Graypaw.

Graypaw, Graypaw, Graypaw…where was he even to begin? He felt like the epiphany had come to him at the worst possible time, with ThunderClan standing on the edge of war, but now he was pretty much all he thought about. Yet the sobering shock he had felt that night at Sunningrocks rang inside him, speaking the obvious revelation that completely changed his perception of his best friend in a fleeting moment. And the more he thought about it, the more things he looked at thinking back from even the moment they met, Firepaw couldn't draw the line between the tom just being himself and him showing a sign that he liked him.

He had yet to talk to him about it, of course. One, because he still didn't know if he was completely wrong and just throwing away their friendship on a whim, but also because he had yet to answer another important question.

Do I like him back?

Firepaw had grown up in a society without moral standards or expectations, so he had never been told anything about what Spottedleaf had offhandedly called "the birds and the bees." In fact, his mother would have never told him about it anyway because of how paranoid she was about relationships not by blood. So while the realization that he was queer was not a devastating epiphany that made him scared to be who he was in a heteronormative society that revolved around making and raising kits (courtesy of Whitestorm), he was more concerned about not knowing what it felt to like someone. Every now and then he would take a careful look at things that mates would do, whether it be grooming them or giving them playful bites or rubbing them up with their paws…could he picture himself and Graypaw in that position? Was that something he wanted?

Well, duh. Obviously it was something he wanted. In fact, the compulsive want that he felt kick inside his stomach actually made him worried that he had been thinking about the right thing.

But now he was in a bit of a vicious cycle. Firepaw couldn't see Graypaw in the same way again, even though they were still friends. But even when he had been repeatedly rationalizing about how absolutely nothing bad had happened between them and there was no basis for anything to change, he was nervous. He felt stressed when he ate with him and struggled to talk without feeling like his throat was going to dry up. There was something in his gut just pleading for him to run away, but why would he?

Life was as fragile as it could be right now. ThunderClan was trying to stave off their destruction and he had a prophecy tied to his name saying he was somehow their savior. In the days where things were darkest Graypaw had been the only light he could hold onto. There was no way on earth that he was going to risk throwing that away.

Firepaw had talked with Whitestorm on patrols occasionally about him being gay, so the ginger tom knew that the immediate self-acceptance of his queerness was a blessing. If only he was having this crisis over someone like Onewhisker, someone not close to him and even someone he knew he couldn't obtain. Anyone except the closest friend he ever had.

The ginger tom shook his head. There would be no panicking today - he was simply going to have a nice meal with Graypaw. They would talk about normal things and he would listen and respond like normal.

But then he walked up to him and saw that the sun was hitting his fur in a way that brought out just how sleek and well-kept his long-gray fur was. There were jokes about him being fat that even he threw back at himself, but he looked nothing compared to how big kittypets got just lazing around and eating and sleeping. He had muscles everywhere, including in his belly - he knew this because of the night when he had rested his head there on Sunningrocks. And the way his hind legs were shapely toned because of his hunting skills…sitting there in the sun and waiting for him with those soft and friendly green eyes that looked like the forest itself on a perfect greenleaf day…

No. Firepaw shook his head harder this time. Normal thoughts, normal thoughts, normal thoughts.

"You alright?" asked Graypaw gently, "You seem…out of it today."

"Yeah, just…on edge about stuff today…" he murmured, "With Brokenstar."

"Mmm…yeah, it's looking to be one of those days," said the apprentice, "Lionheart mentioned it's the half-moon tonight so Spottedleaf has to go up to the Moonstone, and Bluestar doesn't know if she wants to allow her to go."

"What? Why not?"

"Cause the path she has to take goes right by the ShadowClan border. Bluestar's convinced that Brokenstar is going to jump her tonight, so she wants to keep her in camp to keep her safe."

"Is there not a different way?"

"I think there is," said Graypaw, "Like…Ravenpaw mentioned that there's a long way that goes through Riverclan and circles around the outside border of WindClan, but it passes through a Twoleg farm with a bunch of rats. I heard that the Twolegs keep a cat there to hunt them, but Bluestar still lost a life fighting them so she doesn't like cats going down that route."

Firepaw leaned down and took a bite of the mouse as Graypaw continued. "I mean…since this is a tradition for medicine cats, I thought there would be some sort of protection for them…surely there is if they're traveling through other Clans' territory."

"Well, Brokenstar is definitely someone that loves to honor tradition," Firepaw said bitterly.

Graypaw sighed. "Yeah…I was gonna ask Ravenpaw if he knew what Spottedleaf was going to do since they're pretty close, but…now that I think of it, I haven't seen him in a while."

That was true. Despite the continuous presence of danger in the forest, Ravenpaw was continuing to disappear, sometimes for a full day. Since there was no training to be completed, Tigerclaw was perfectly content in pretending that his apprentice didn't exist and didn't even notice that he was gone, seemingly. But the question of why he was going away in the midst of all this danger was still eating at Firepaw. By now he knew that Ravenpaw had information that would put him and others at risk should they know it and let it spread, but there was no sign that the black tom was going to give away what it was anytime soon. The one time Firepaw had asked Spottedleaf why he was spending so much time with her, she had just mentioned casually that he "loved to help out." The vagueness of it all added no clarity to whether Ravenpaw had taken an interest in medicine cat duties or if she had enlisted him in a job that she needed to complete.

"Hard to believe that he and Dustpaw came from the same litter," muttered the ginger tom, "I mean…Ravenpaw is just so caring. I mean, even if he wasn't tense all the time, he and Dustpaw are basically opposites."

"He wasn't always that way…" Graypaw said quietly, making Firepaw look up, "We, uh…when we were kits, he was almost as excitable as I am. We'd play around all the time…people thought that we were siblings. Then there was a massive sickness wave…we both lost our parents. I mean, the wave was so bad that we lost half the Clan. And a lot of them were good warriors, too."

Firepaw's eyes were wide. "Wow, I…I didn't know."

"It's not exactly fun to talk about…I mean, Spottedleaf's mentor also fell sick so she was pretty much taking care of the whole Clan. But anyways, we ended up getting nursed by Willowpelt and we promised to each other that we'd be close friends to the end…then, uh…Tigerclaw happened."

It wasn't a hard image to craft, Tigerclaw beating and slashing and bleeding the joy and confidence out of Ravenpaw. Firepaw felt a pang of deep sadness for Graypaw as he thought about it…watching it happen must have felt like seeing his friend die. "I'm sorry…" he murmured quietly, not knowing what else to say.

"Oh, don't apologize to me," he said quickly, "I mean, we're still friends. It's not like he died or became a jerk or something. It's just…life goes on. And letting the past just keep digging into you will really temper your appreciation for life now." Graypaw looked up and smiled. "I mean, regardless of everything that happened along the way, you still walked into my life."

Firepaw genuinely thought he would die right there. His heart didn't just skip a beat but it seemed to trip over itself, and his eyes shot so wide open that they looked like glowing green orbs. "Oh…uh…w-...I-...s-...I-I-I-..." stuttered the ginger tom pathetically. StarClan, why was having a normal conversation so difficult?

Graypaw seemed worried at the sudden crack in his composure. "Firepaw? You okay?"

"Yes, I…I, uh…" Firepaw glanced back to the other dens quickly, "I need to…talk…to…Spotteddddsand...ven…paw."

The apprentice blinked. "What?"

"Okaygottagothanksforthemeal!" blurted out the ginger tom before scooting away and walking briskly towards the apprentice den. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was panting like a dog. Everything had been fine just over a week ago and now he was making a fool out of himself in front of his best friend. He probably thought that he was losing his mind or something.

This sucked. Out of all the cats in the forest to have these feelings for, why did it have to be his best friend?

He actually did need to talk to someone about this, someone other than Graypaw. He glanced around - Whitestorm was out on patrol, Lionheart didn't seem to be in the mood to talk about personal stuff and Spottedleaf was not in her den. His paws just continued to carry his body in a certain direction until he was standing in the apprentice den and looking at Sandpaw grooming her fur.

Yes, they were supposed to be rivals. Yes, she would probably make fun of him. But he needed some kind of direction. "Sandpaw?"

The tan she-cat looked up from her licking, raising a suspicious eyebrow at the ginger tom. "Hm? Does Whitestorm need me?"

"No, uh…I actually…have a question. For you." stammered Firepaw awkwardly, "Umm…you rejected Dustpaw. Why was that?"

Sandpaw didn't seem as judgemental as he thought she would be, though that was because she looked beyond baffled that he was asking her this question. "Um…what?"

"Okay, when you rejected Dustpaw-"

"I know what question you asked, you mousebrain," she retorted, "Why in StarClan's name are you suddenly interested in that? In fact, how did you even find out about that?"

"That's not important," he said quickly, "I just…I'm kinda having…feelings for someone…and if I were to hypothetically ask them to be my mate…I want to do it better than Dustpaw. Because I don't want it to go wrong…"

Sandpaw stared at Firepaw for a long moment before her face furrowed into a deadly glare. "Kittypet, I swear to StarClan…if this ends with you trying to ask me to be my mate-"

"No! Ew!" snapped Firepaw immediately, "Why would I-..."

Sandpaw backed off quickly, instead narrowing her eyes as she thought. "Oh. So you are gay."

"Wh-...where did that come from?"

"Seriously?" retorted Sandpaw, "Firepaw, everyone in the Clan knows that you and Graypaw have the hots for each other. Like, everyone except for you two. I seriously thought that Dustpaw was just being mean when he was calling you two dense, but I actually think he has a point if you can't see what's in front of you."

"B-But…but…" stuttered Firepaw, feeling uncomfortably assaulted by her bluntness, "But what-...what if he doesn't?"

"...surely you're joking."

"Why would I be joking about this?"

"StarClan, you are…okay, let me put it this way," said Sandpaw, seemingly in disbelief that she had to explain this to him, "So Dustpaw…he was interested in me because I'm a good looking molly. Nice fur, lots of muscles, good haunches…he wanted me because…well, he wanted to try and have kits with me."

Firepaw narrowed his eyes. "Did he actually say that to you?"

"Well, no. If he did, he would not be alive," amended Sandpaw, "The point is…it's pretty easy to tell by the way someone looks at you. Dustpaw, before he asked me, had been looking at me like I'm an attractive piece of prey. Graypaw looks at you like you are his reason to breathe. Seriously…I've seen Whitestorm and Lionheart being cuddly before and I don't think I've ever seen them look at each other the way he looks at you."

Firepaw looked down at his paws, trying to remember the details in his gaze, the ways that he had looked at him. "Really?" he said quietly, "I didn't-"

"Firepaw, it's obvious. I am your rival and I'm telling you to your face that you have nothing to worry about," insisted Sandpaw, sounding almost desperate, "What could you possibly be worried about?"

"Well, if he says no-"

"He's not gonna say no!" snapped the she-cat, "Okay…I know that Dustpaw moping around and being crass could give the impression that rejection hurts you deeply. But it's really not that big of a deal - it's only a big deal if you make it a big deal. And besides…you're not going to get rejected."

"But it…is a big deal," said Firepaw quietly, "I…he's my best friend…and if I'm wrong, then…well, our relationship is gone."

Sandpaw took a breath and calmed herself before continuing. "Look, I know that I've been a bit of a…foxheart about Graypaw. And even though I think he eats too much and is unnecessarily loud, he has the amount of care to give that I wish I could have. I mean…there are some times where I notice the way he looks at you and I envy you. He's a good cat, a kind cat. And if he says no, then…well, he's a moron. But I also think that he'll try to still be friends with you."

Firepaw sighed. Was there really any other rational fears he could bring up? Was everything just in his head like Sandpaw was saying? Yet surely if this was a foregone conclusion, then it would be easy to just…ask him to be his mate when they became warriors. Yet the weight of the question itself and the consequences that followed were just…so big.

But it gave him a bit of enlightenment. The idea of Graypaw being by his side…well, he did want it. Maybe he had wanted it for a long time.

He sighed. "Okay…you're right. I'll ask him."

Sandpaw groaned in relief. "Thank StarClan-"

"Tomorrow."

"Get out of my sight before I force you to tell him!" snapped Sandpaw, making the ginger tom scamper back out of the den. His mind was a bit clearer now, but not by much. As he glanced at the entrance and saw Graypaw leave on a patrol, he felt his heart slam into his chest with that same rush of anxiety.

He didn't understand liking someone like this. Perhaps he never would. His first friend, his closest friend…it was almost harrowing to see him as something more, something closer to him with the secrets he had to keep and the destiny he had to fulfill.

With nothing to do except wait to be sent out on patrol, Firepaw began to idly walk around camp. He glanced around and the clearing and peaked into the warriors' den, vaguely wondering what it would be like to have a nest in there and sleep among the rest of the warriors before some voices caught his attention. He approached the leader's rock, picking up the voice of the ThunderClan leader through the rocks.

"-simply cannot understand why you, of all cats, could want to be so callous! We are at war with a tom who has no respect for StarClan's will, so he will absolutely kill you if he sees you-"

"The importance of my role is greater than my own safety, Bluestar!" Firepaw felt a chill down his spine as he recognized Spottedleaf's voice. "I could care less about whatever threats I might encounter as long as I get the opportunity to talk to StarClan! In times like these, it is vital to keep our relationship with our ancestors healthy."

"Well, these same ancestors allowed for WindClan to be forced out of their own territory. If they are to allow such cruelty, what are the chances that they will passively allow your death as well?"

"If that was truly their will, then they would have told me. And this would be a conversation about what preparations should be done should I die."

"But how can you possibly know that things won't change? Especially now, when Brokenstar is doing whatever he wishes to these Clans?"

"Bluestar, we are at war," snapped Spottedleaf, "And in times of conflict before, StarClan have been silent. But they are watching us because we wouldn't have a prophecy if we didn't."

"Don't talk to me about that stupid prophecy," groaned Bluestar, "He's an apprentice, Spottedleaf. How can he possibly save the Clan from the greatest threat to order the forest has ever seen?" Firepaw felt a prickle in his paws at his mention. "Fire would save the Clan…" But Bluestar had a point - how was he to save the Clan?

"Well, if only there was a way that I could ask them myself!"

"Yeah, like you'd even get a straight answer."

"Do you not trust me, Bluestar?" hissed Spottedleaf, "Or is it the ancestors you don't trust? Because I'm finding it quite disturbing that we are fighting a war with a leader that doesn't have faith in both."

There was silence. Firepaw didn't even need to be present in the den to envision the deeply offended face Bluestar was surely making. Even the ginger tom was unsettled at the medicine cat's confrontation - Spottedleaf being this assertive and angry at her leader felt wrong.

There was more conversation that Firepaw couldn't hear without sneaking closer, which was not a risk worth taking, but after a few minutes did the medicine cat leave the leader's den and return to her own with a stoic look on her face. And as she moved to the back to speak to Yellowfang, Firepaw remembered what the old black molly had said, accidentally revealing Spottedleaf's death…

And suddenly, even though the ThunderClan leader didn't know anything about what he hoped wouldn't come tonight, Firepaw understood why Bluestar felt so afraid.

By the time the sun had set, Lionheart had sent out three more patrols all to the ShadowClan border. Firepaw had been on one of them, taking diligent note of everything that passed his eyes. He had seen the marshy, gross landscape of ShadowClan territory from beyond the Thunderpath so many times recently that he thought that he could recite the position of every blade of grass - still no signs of an ambush or even a scent that came too close. Same with the WindClan border, though the ShadowClan scent was still very much throwing everyone on the patrol off.

A thick cover of clouds had rolled in with the setting sun and by the time Firepaw returned to camp, rain was beginning to fall. He shook out his fur to try and keep himself warm as he grabbed a piece of prey and noticed that Spottedleaf and Bluestar were arguing again in the medicine den. Some of the cats hung around to try and pick up what was being said, but didn't linger too long because of the rain. Firepaw was able to hear the words "patrol," "danger," and "competent" before he was in the apprentice den and moving into his nest.

"Bleh…it's so gross outside…" murmured Dustpaw between bites, "I feel like I'm wearing a second pelt." As Firepaw sat down near Graypaw, she looked at him intensely as if she were begging him to just ask the question. But there was no chance that he was doing it now, not in the apprentice den in the rain. And certainly not when Spottedleaf was so on edge that she was fighting with Bluestar.

"Hey, speaking of…where's Ravenpaw?" asked Dustpaw suddenly, "I haven't seen him at all today." Firepaw wanted to retort about him noticing his brother was perpetually disappearing now, but he was still concerned. Was he okay? If something were to go down tonight, would he be able to get back? Be safe and ready to fight if needed?

"Spottedleaf said that he was out getting herbs or something," said Graypaw with a shrug, "Might need them tonight if the talks I'm hearing are true."

"What talks?" said Sandpaw.

"It's half-moon, so Spottedleaf is going to the Moonstone. Bluestar wants to send a patrol with her but she's refusing the help and saying she must go alone."

"Is she crazy?" said Dustpaw incredulously, "It's like she has a death wish."

"It does make sense, though…" said Sandpaw after a moment, "If we have warriors following her, then there are less warriors guarding the camp. That would be a perfect time for Brokenstar to attack."

"But she's our medicine cat," retorted Dustpaw harshly, "Who's to say that Yellowfang won't just turn tail and help ShadowClan try and kill us all if she dies? What if that was the plan all along?"

Firepaw wanted to say there was no chance for that to happen, but even he couldn't trust Yellowfang's word. Her being around meant that the connection to StarClan remained unbroken according to her, but that didn't mean that she could still be a traitor somehow. After all, why wasn't she going with Spottedleaf to the half-moon tonight?

"Well, she knows that she dies if she does anything out of line," said Sandpaw firmly, "If she is a mole, I'm sure Brokenstar would love to keep it that way and keep her alive to continue trying to siphon information to the Clan."

As the two apprentices bickered, Firepaw glanced at Graypaw who was eating quietly and noted the worry written onto his face. Everyone was worried, of course, but the ginger tom felt a swell of emotions for seeing him so nervous. He wanted to just scoot next to him and hold him with his front legs, telling him that everything would be alright…

"Firepaw, Dustpaw," said Lionheart's voice booming over the fall of rain, "A word, please." The apprentice almost groaned at the thought of going back out in the soaking wet, but he dutifully rose and walked out of the den alongside the bracken tom to speak with the deputy.

"Bluestar has assigned a patrol to follow Spottedleaf and make sure she gets to the Highstones and back without incident," he said, squinting his eyes over the rain, "You two are to be with Whitestorm, Mousefur and Tigerclaw. Keep watch from a distance and make sure ShadowClan doesn't try to make a move."

"What about camp?" asked Dustpaw.

"Camp will be well-guarded for now," said the deputy, now having to raise his voice over the sound of thick droplets hammering down from the sky. This was a nasty storm - no easy feat for a watch. "And Bluestar wants you to know that Spottedleaf should not know that she's being followed!"

Of course. Firepaw figured that Bluestar would try to pull some sort of safety maneuver without her knowledge and was able to let out a frustrated sigh. Gesturing to follow, Lionheart led the way through the muddied camp and gave the same instructions to the three warriors. The ginger warrior suppressed a shiver, both because of his soaked pelt and also because of Tigerclaw's presence. This would be the first interaction they had since he had threatened him into silence.

Firepaw had a feeling he would need to keep a close eye on the tabby as well.

Lionheart finished his instructions with a nod and moved over to Whitestorm, pressing their muzzles together in a kiss. "May StarClan light your path," said the ginger tom to the patrol and allowed them to depart. As a threatening roll of thunder sounded overhead, Firepaw looked back to try and catch Graypaw's eye, but even the apprentice den was obscured in the harsh rain.

Tigerclaw led the way as they carefully scooted up the ravine and began their pursuit into ThunderClan territory. The thicket didn't give the patrol much relief from the downpour, but it was enough to where Firepaw could actually hear the steps of his Clanmates over the rain. "What luck…" complained Dustpaw as he uselessly tried to shake his pelt dry, "The perfect weather to try and keep watch."

"StarClan will guide us!" said Whitestorm confidently over the rain, "This is a sacred ritual. They'll give us guidance since we're trying to get our medicine cat to talk with them."

"I see her!" called Tigerclaw, the rain pouring hard enough to allow his voice to raise. Sure enough, Firepaw could see the outline of the medicine cat with her head down, navigating through the trees towards the ShadowClan border. There was a prickle of relief that passed through him. Whitestorm had a good point…surely there was no way StarClan would allow harm to come on her way to visit them.

They marched onward, the pace of the patrol sluggish both from keeping a distance and trying to wade through muddy ground. Firepaw's senses were completely drowned out, only barely able to pick up the scent of his fellow Clan members through the torrential rain. As long as they could keep the medicine cat in their sights, then they would be in open plains to see intruders once they got by the Thunderpath…

Then the sky opened up.

A flash of lightning landing not too far away briefly lit up the world. For a split second everything was bright, the cats before Firepaw black figures in a blinding light. But in that momentary flash, Firepaw could see not just the cats of his patrol, but two new cats racing in front of them at full sprint.

BOOM! A deafening roar of thunder thrashed the apprentice's ear, making him jump and curse loudly. As he tried to regain his senses and process if what he had seen was real, the patrol had stopped. They had seen what he had seen, surely…

And through the rain and the gusting wind, Firepaw suddenly picked up the scent of ShadowClan. Right in the middle of ThunderClan territory.

"After them!" shouted Tigerclaw, charging in the direction the cats had gone. The wind and rain blowing in his face and feeling like bullets of ice, Firepaw strained his eyes and dug his claws through the slick mud as he ran. He had no idea where they were heading, instead just praying that Tigerclaw knew where he was going.

As he ran ahead, another lightning bolt lit up the storming sky and Firepaw saw that there were two cats in the distance. The apprentice felt a fire spark inside of him, doubling the efforts in his sprint and panting through gritted teeth. With the other three warriors at full sprint, he and Dustpaw were barely able to keep up or realize where they were going.

On and on went the chase, Firepaw praying that they would slip up at some point. They cut to the right and Firepaw was able to get around one of the trees before he slammed into it. His chest was burning now. The apprentice didn't know how much longer he could sprint like this…

And then, faintly ahead, one of the cats tripped and tumbled onto the ground. Instantly, Tigerclaw was on top of them. As the patrol skidded to a halt, the tabby fastened his teeth into the neck of the intruder, forcing them onto their backs so he could snarl down at the figure. They had dark fur, indistinguishable between gray and black, and white spots on their muzzle and around their gray-green eyes. Once Tigerclaw had pinned them to the ground, they immediately stopped putting up a fight.

"SHADOWCLAN SCUM!" roared Tigerclaw, his voice holding something akin to divine rage, "HOW DARE YOU TRESPASS ON THUNDERCLAN TERRITORY!" The tabby sunk his claws into the cat's throat, drawing blood. "Explain yourself or die."

The cat did not explain himself. In fact, they didn't say a word. Firepaw watched in horror as their face lit up in glee and they began to laugh. It was an ugly, harrowing laugh. Fanatical. "SHUT UP!" roared Tigerclaw as he grabbed their muzzle with his free paw and slammed it down into the dirt.

Yet on and on did they laugh. Out of the corner of his eye, Firepaw noticed Mousefur and Whitestorm looking around, both of their faces clenching up in panic. "Tigerclaw!" shouted the white-furred warrior, "Look around! We are in WindClan territory!"

Firepaw's gut turned over and he shared a horrified look with Dustpaw.

It was a trap.

And they had fallen right into it.

"YOU'RE TOO LATE!" crowed the ShadowClan warrior gleefully, "YOU'RE ALL TOO LATE! YOU'VE ALREADY LOST! THUNDERCLAN WILL FALL! AND BROKENSTAR AND SHADOWCLAN SHALL REIGN SUPREME-"

They never got to finish. With a hell-raising roar, Tigerclaw reared back his paws and slammed his claws right into the ShadowClan cat's throat. Blood and flesh splashed onto both Firepaw and Dustpaw's faces, both apprentices gasping and gagging in the rain as they wiped their faces clean. Beneath the tabby, the corpse of Brokenstar's warrior lay lifeless, eyes still wide and face contorted forever into a euphoric smile of victory.

Firepaw's mind swirled. The roar of the rain felt like it was going to take over his brain and deafen him. As he wailed and tried to make himself clean of the gore of Tigerclaw's victim, his mind continued to spin as it did when he was in a panic. Until sifting through the chaos came one haunting thought. The reason why this indeed was a trap.

Spottedleaf.

"No…No NO NO!" shouted the apprentice in a panic, "SPOTTEDLEAF! SHE'S STILL OUT THERE!" Instantly, the other four were right there with him. Even Tigerclaw, whom Firepaw hated with every fiber in his body, looked horrified at the mistake that they had all made.

"Go after her!" shouted Mousefur, "Tigerclaw, Dustpaw, with me back to camp!"

Firepaw didn't hesitate. Following the white blur into the darkness of the rain and thunder, the ginger tom ran as fast as he possibly could. But now there was no chase, nothing that they were trying to take down. Claws gripped inside his chest, fear wracking his mind until he was barely able to comprehend up from down in the darkness of the stormy night.

There was no point running. He knew what this meant. He knew what he was racing to see.

No! Firepaw forced that thought back, There's still a chance! Spottedleaf won't die! She won't!

Through trees and bushes and clearings did the ThunderClan warriors weave, moving in a full sprint back towards the Thunderpath Even when they broke through the trees and approached the Thunderpath did Firepaw not even stop, trying to see through the rain. "Spottedleaf!" he called, pleading into the dark, "SPOTTEDLEAF! SPOTTED-"

Another bolt of lightning lit up his way and Firepaw stopped. On the other side of the Thunderpath stood a brown tom decorated with scars nearly twice his size, and being held against his chest with his claws against her throat was Spottedleaf. She was already bleeding bad, grunting in pain and eyes blazing with anger as she looked back across into her territory.

The breath was stripped from his lungs. Firepaw wanted to scream, but it was as if he had no throat. He could only watch, eyes wide in horror, as the medicine cat uselessly jerked and tried to break free of the ShadowClan warrior's deadly grasp.

As it had been foretold.

"Clawface!" roared Whitestorm, aggression in his voice unable to mask the dread and panic both ThunderClan warriors felt, "Unhand her now!"

The warrior laughed as if it were a funny joke, the darkness bringing out the malicious glee in his yellow eyes. "What an audience! The forest tail-raiser and a kittypet! Truly an incredible crew for protecting your beloved medicine cat!" Whitestorm viciously snarled at the slur, Firepaw joining in alongside him as they prepared to cross the Thunderpath and attack the warrior.

"Ah ah ahh…" tutted Clawface, digging the tips of his claws further into Spottedleaf's throat, "Not another step…Instead we shall wait together and let the Thunderpath decide her fate."

Whitestorm growled, not backing down from his attack stance, "We'll kill you, Clawface. We'll hunt you down and make you pay-"

Another laugh from the ShadowClan bastard. "Such bold words! Has it not yet occurred to you, then, that you have nothing to threaten me or any of my Clanmates with?" The brown warrior's eyes seemed to pierce right through Firepaw's forehead and speak fear right into his soul.

"Not while you stand out here threaten me while your beloved camp is torn to shreds."

The world seemed to freeze.

Firepaw almost choked on his own breath. No. It wasn't possible. It was exactly what Spottedleaf had feared, exactly what Brokenstar had planned. Everyone in camp was now in danger…Runningwind, Mousefur, Lionheart, Graypaw… To his right, Whitestorm's aggression was lost as he shook with terror. "No…no…"

"Yes indeed! Just as my glorious leader planned!" bragged Clawface cockily, "He was right all along…and none of you were ever prepared… And now all of you…you will pay the ultimate price. You will lose EVERYTHING!"

This was the end. Firepaw had been lured out here and had not only failed to protect Spottedleaf, but allowed ShadowClan to sneak behind and attack camp as well. It had taken weeks of patience and one stormy night for Brokenstar to claim all but a total victory over ThunderClan.

Firepaw didn't know what to do. His brain screamed to run, but his eyes couldn't leave Spottedleaf. The beacon of clarity. StarClan's blessed messenger. The one who had given him direction and purpose when he needed it the most. It couldn't be. This couldn't be how it ended. Drowning in a sea of dread, all noise and cries for help lost to the roaring wind and crashing thunder…

The medicine cat, growling with fangs bared, slowly opened her mouth and spoke. "C…Coward…"

Clawface flinched. "What?"

"You stand here…waiting for the monster to do your work…you cannot do it…you cannot kill me…"

The ShadowClan warrior was furious. "How dare you-"

"If you are to strike me down, do it with your own claws," snarled Spottedleaf viciously, a fire burning in her eyes, "Kill me like a ShadowClan tom would…and let me die with honor in front of my Clanmates…so they may know your face and hunt you down without rest until they coat themselves with your blood…and so I may personally invoke the wrath of StarClan…to send your soul to the Dark Forest forever…"

Clawface, for a moment, seemed intimidated. And Firepaw had a fleeting moment of hope that she had saved herself.

It was futile.

"You talk a big talk…but I'm no coward, you disgusting molly…" Clawface grappled tighter onto the tortoiseshell's form, eyes now burning with fury and claws rearing back to strike her dead.

At that moment, Spottedleaf's gentle amber eyes met Firepaw's. And she looked not angry, not aggrieved, but calm. Serene. Accepting. It was the face of someone that had long known their fate and accepted it. And yet also glowing in her eyes was an overwhelming sense of empathy. She knew what was to come for young Firepaw, the details and struggles to afflict him as he followed his destiny. And even in the stormy rain where he could do nothing but watch as she was slaughtered, she found the words that needed to keep going. One final time.

Firepaw, she seemed to say to him through her eyes in the final moments of her life, I believe in you.

Clawface brought his claws down sliced right through Spottedleaf's throat. Blood spilled over the white of her fur, painting it a damp scarlet as it coated her body. But the she-cat did not gag or gasp for air. Instead, she simply closed her eyes and let her body relax.

Moments later, her head slumped over and Clawface released her. And Firepaw watched as the tortoiseshell crumpled forward onto the ground.

Spottedleaf was dead.

a/n: chapter sixteen will be released on august 31st.

any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.

with love,
cj