Chapter Fourteen: The "Truth" from Tigerclaw
Screams of alarm erupted from his clanmates' mouths when they saw the two warriors enter camp, their paws and muzzles covered in blood. Their pelts were splattered with their own blood, having given themselves a few wounds to convince their clanmates they'd been in a fight.
"Tigerclaw!" Bluestar exclaimed. "Who has done this? Where are your apprentices? Where's Sandstrike?" The graceful blue-gray she-cat bounded across the clearing in the blink of an eye, sniffing the two dark tabbies anxiously.
"Where's Lynxpaw?" Yellowfang asked. "You escorted him to Sandstrike, right? The forest isn't safe for him to be out on his own."
"We sent our apprentices to hunt," Tigerclaw explained when he'd caught his breath from the run back. "Me and Darkstripe gave them a moment before we began to follow them. Sandstrike had gotten a mouthful of sand during training and went to get a drink from the stream. Me and Darkstripe hadn't even caught up with the apprentices when we heard her scream. We raced back, but we were too late to fight off the attacker, whoever it was had gone. I told Darkstripe to get Yellowfang, but Sandstrike was acting odd, and insisted he get Lynxpaw instead, and act as though everything was normal. She'd been wounded rather badly, and was too weak to get back to camp."
"You should have told the truth!" Yellowfang spat.
"I know," Tigerclaw bowed his head and was silent for a moment. "And I'm so, so sorry I didn't, because it had grave consequences. I stayed with Sandstrike in case her attacker came back, and it was fine until Lynxpaw and Darkstripe returned."
"On our way I had told him Sandstrike was wounded," Darkstripe put in. "So we stopped to grab some herbs, but it wasn't enough."
"Her wounds used up all the herbs, and he sent us to get more, as well as lots of cobwebs, for he'd used all of them to try and stop the bleeding, and needed more to bandage the wounds," Tigerclaw went on. "Both me and Darkstripe went this time, knowing two cats would be able to collect more. We assumed the two would be safe, since Lynxpaw had trained as a warrior, plus, he was the best cat to stay with her in her condition. We made a grave mistake."
"What happened?" Bluestar murmured. "Where are they?"
"We heard screams again, and returned with all we had gathered," Tigerclaw told her. "The attacker had returned, and I saw who it was: Whitestorm, and a few of Brokenstar's rogues. Me and Darkstripe fought them off with little trouble," Tigerclaw used his tail to gesture to their few, shallow wounds. "But Lynxpaw was no match for such ruthless fighters. They did little to harm Sandstrike further; they must have mistaken her for dead, but Lynxpaw…" The dark brown tabby hesitated. "They wounded him so horribly that he wouldn't die. He was so torn up, you'd think a fox tried to eat him alive."
Goldenflower was staring at Tigerclaw, her eyes blank, her face twisted with grief. She lifted her muzzle to wail, her cries of grief tearing through the sky. Lionheart rushed to comfort his sister, but it was of little use.
"I tried to stanch the bleeding," Tigerclaw helplessly held up one of his bloody paws, covered in Lynxpaw's blood. "But there was nothing I could do, not even Starclan could save him. He died within moments of our arrival. We managed to stop Sandstrike's bleeding, I think, but I don't know if she'll survive."
I pray to the Place of No Stars that she doesn't, the little piece of fox-dung! Tigerclaw thought.
"And you left her? While the forest is full of dangerous rogues?" Longtail demanded, his eyes wide with fear.
"I didn't see all of Brokenstar's rogues, or Brokenstar himself, and we rushed back to camp, thinking they were attacking you all," Darkstripe explained. He looked around the peaceful clearing, and a fake dread filled his face. "The apprentices!" He exclaimed suddenly. "They're still out there!"
"Sandstrike is too," Longtail spat, his eyes narrowed with determination. "If there's even a chance she's still alive - Bluestar, can -"
"Lionheart, Yellowfang, Tigerclaw, and Longtail, come with me," Bluestar ordered. "We must find the apprentices and bring Lynxpaw and Sandstrike back to camp… even if it may only be for a burial."
The patrol met the apprentices on the way to the Sandy Hollow, Cinderpaw and Redpaw had their mouths full of prey and were returning from their hunt. The patrol sent them the rest of the way home and continued on. The shock of the rest of the patrol was evident once they saw the grizzly scene.
"Sandstrike… come on, stay with me," Longtail pleaded as he crouched beside the battered she-cat. Her eyes flickered open, her lit up at the sight of the pale tabby. Her gaze slowly traveled to the body in front of her, and then up to Tigerclaw. Her eyes sent a clear message of defeat.
That's right, Tigerclaw gave her a small nod. I'm the most powerful here. Now, I trust you'll never stand up to me again. Tigerclaw acted melancholy on the way back to camp, taking it upon himself to carry Lynxpaw. He lifted his face so that it was illuminated by the blood-red light of the setting sun. I'm only a pawstep away from winning. I've stamped out Starclan's fire meant to destroy me, and I've put out Sandstrike's fire as well. She has no will left to fight. She's as good as dead to me.
Chapter fifteen: Sandstrike
Sandstrike stared blankly up at Bluestar as she stood on the Highrock, with Brightpaw and Cinderpaw beneath.
"Brightpaw," Bluestar was saying. "You have been training temporarily under Goldenflower recently, and today she becomes a permanent mentor until you earn your warrior name. Goldenflower, I hope you'll pass on your compassion and cleverness onto Brightpaw." Brightpaw and Goldenflower gently touched noses and backed into the circle of watching cats.
"Tigerclaw, in light of Lynxpaw's unfortunate death, you are free to take on another apprentice. Cinderpaw, Tigerclaw has acted as your temporary mentor since Fireheart's passing, and today Tigerclaw will become the mentor that sees you through to your warrior ceremony. Tigerclaw, I trust you to pass on your discipline and skill to Cinderpaw," Bluestar finished. She leapt down from the Highrock and headed to the fern-shrouded medicine clearing where Sandstrike sat, while the rest of the Clan went to their dens or Lynxpaw's body.
"Sandstrike," Bluestar dipped her head to the wounded warrior and sat down beside her. "How are you feeling?"
"How do you think?" Sandstrike asked in a hollow voice. "My brother is dead, and it's my fault."
"You were wounded, there was no way you could have helped him," Bluestar murmured.
"You don't understand," Sandstrike choked.
"Tell me, what don't I understand?" Bluestar asked curiously.
"I can't tell you," Sandstrike buried her nose under her paws. "Then others would pay the price, others would be hurt if I told you everything."
"Sandstrike," Bluestar said sternly. "It's my job to know everything that happens in my Clan. If there is danger, I need to know. Is another clanmate threatening you?"
"I told you, I can't tell you! If you want to keep your Clan safe, stop prying for answers and let me handle it!" Sandstrike hissed, lifting her head to glare at Bluestar. "If I tell you everything, the cats I love die."
Bluestar's eyes became round with pity. "You shouldn't task yourself with the protection of the entire Clan. That's my job, and you aren't even a deputy. For your sake, I suppose I can leave this alone for now, but if my life or Lionheart's is in danger, I want to know."
"I'm not sure I can even do that," Sandstrike buried her head in her paws again. "Don't tell Lionheart… just keep an eye on him." She heard Bluestar's departing pawsteps and hoped she got the hint. Sandstrike dragged her paws and returned to her nest in the medicine den. Yellowfang was coming out.
"Aren't you going to the vigil?" She asked. The sun was already setting.
"There's nothing left to sit vigil for. The 'body' in the clearing is a cat after a monster got to him," Sandstrike replied bitterly. "It's my fault he's dead. I don't deserve to sit vigil for him, and I can't face my kin right now. I doubt I could stay awake the whole night anyway."
Yellowfang ducked back into her herb store and grabbed a few herbs. She dropped them beside Sandstrike's nest. "Poppy seeds and thyme," She explained. "They'll help you sleep."
The number of nightmares won't make it restful, Sandstrike thought glumly.
"Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!" Bluestar's yowl woke Sandstrike. The ginger she-cat opened her eyes, wondering why she was in the medicine den. Her memories of the previous day hit her like a falling rock, and she flinched. She was prepared to slip back into sleep when Goldenflower crept into the den.
"What?" Sandstrike asked.
"There's a meeting-" Her mother began.
"I heard," Sandstrike snapped. "I'm tired, I'm not going."
"Are you sure? Bluestar is going to discuss the rogues from yesterday," Goldenflower sat down next to her daughter, her green eyes round with pity.
"Tell her I wish the patrol good luck in finding them," Sandstrike grumbled, blocking out the harsh sunlight with a paw.
"Bluestar told me to get you, she says she wants you present at the meeting," Goldenflower murmured.
"Why? So she can publicly announce it's my fault that Lynxpaw was out there when T- when the rogues attacked?" Sandstrike spat.
"Get out of your nest before I drag you to the meeting," Goldenflower ordered, swatting Sandstrike's ear. The scarred warrior flattened her ears and reluctantly got to her paws. Bluestar smiled a bit when she spotted Sandstrike joining the crowd.
"Now that we're all in attendance, we can begin," Bluestar said. "We have enemies on every border, and attacks are becoming more frequent. To these attacks we have recently lost a promising young cat, Lynxpaw. We must prove to everyone that Thunderclan is still strong, and we must show no mercy when we retaliate. Lionheart is going to lead a patrol to hunt down the rogues that committed this violent attack."
"Let me go!" Redpaw begged, unsheathing her claws and narrowing her eyes. "Let me tear apart the savages that killed my brother!"
"Sandstrike? I'll leave that up to you," Bluestar looked at the ragged she-cat. "Can your apprentice handle herself well in battle?"
"She hasn't been an apprentice long…" Sandstrike said uncertainly. She saw Redpaw's face fall, grief clear in her amber eyes. Sandstrike took a deep breath. "She can manage herself in a battle, I suppose. I'll make sure the rogues won't hurt her, I'll go with the patrol. I want my pound of flesh as well."
"Dustpelt? Will you allow Littlepaw to go?" Lionheart asked.
The brown tabby shook his head. "You don't want a patrol with more apprentices than warriors. I'd prefer not to have my apprentice journey into the twoleg-place."
"Alright," The golden tabby nodded. "Who else wants to go? We don't know for sure what we're dealing with, I won't force anyone to go."
"I will," Tigerclaw stepped up, with a knowing glare at Sandstrike.
"I will too," Graystripe joined the others going on patrol. Cinderpaw completed the group. Longtail spoke up.
"Lionheart, before you leave, do I have permission to take a patrol to the Riverclan border?" He asked. Lionheart gave his approval, and Longtail departed with Mousefur, Runningwind, and Brackenpaw. Sandstrike met Longtail's eyes for a moment. She hadn't yet told him about the death threat over his head. Longtail gave her a nod. What did that mean?
I hope he knows, Sandstrike thought anxiously as she stood with the rest of her patrol. I hope he knows that Tigerclaw plans to dispose of Lionheart here and now. I need his patrol as witnesses.
"I promise you, sister," Lionheart murmured to Goldenflower before he led the way out of camp. "I promise I'll avenge Lynxpaw."
"Be careful," Goldenflower nuzzled his cheek affectionately before stepping back and watching him leave camp.
The patrol moved swiftly and quietly through the forest, their senses searching for any sign of danger. They reached the Treecut place with no trouble, and crossed the area and climbed a fence to enter the twolegplace.
"Where to now?" Sandstrike asked. Her wounds ached slightly from the journey, but this meant too much to her. She had promised Lynxpaw she'd deal with the tiger. She had to stop him before Lionheart lost his life.
"We ask around," Lionheart answered. "Kittypets may be dim, but at least some of them should notice a couple of dangerous forest cats roaming around."
"Do we split up or stay together?" Tigerclaw asked. Sandstrike understood the importance of the question to him.
"Split up and cover more ground. Meet here at Sunhigh with what you've learned," Lionheart ordered. "Be polite so the kittypets are more cooperative. Do not start fights, and do not engage any of the rogues if you see them."
"Lionheart, can me and Redpaw go with you?" Sandstrike asked before Tigerclaw could. The deputy agreed to travel with his kin, while Tigerclaw was stuck with his apprentice and Graystripe. Tigerclaw crossed the Thunderpath next to the garden they were in, while Lionheart led the way to the next yard.
"Hello? Any cat here?" Redpaw yowled when they leaped down into the grass.
"Hush!" Sandstrike scolded. "We must keep a low profile, and not bring trouble to us. We can find the kittypets, instead of having them and any dangers find us."
"Okay," Redpaw whispered and gave a nod of understanding. There was a stale scent of a dog in the yard, so the trio moved on. The third yard they reached had a single cat lying in front of the entrance to the twoleg den. The gray tom looked up, alarmed by the presence of three strange cats. Lionheart signaled for Sandstrike and Redpaw to stay behind and approached the kittypet.
"Who are you?" The cat snarled. "What do you want?"
"We only want to ask some questions about a few rogues that may be roaming around this area," Lionheart explained calmly. "We mean no harm."
"By rogues, do you mean strays?" The gray cat sat down again, though his tail still flicked with unease.
"If that's what you call them, then yes," Lionheart gave a nod.
"Care to describe the ones you're looking for? There are many cats on the streets around here."
"We mostly want to find a long-haired white tom," Lionheart began. "This group should be led by a thick-furred dark brown tabby with a crooked tail and a short face. There's also a white tom with black paws…" Lionheart continued to describe Brokenstar's rogue group to the house cat.
"A few sound familiar," The gray tom admitted. "I've been noticing more strays around at night, so I prefer to stay inside once the sun goes down. I believe I've seen the tabby with a crooked tail you described once or twice, usually with one or two other cats."
"Do you know where their den is?" Lionheart asked.
"I don't, I don't care where that group goes unless it's in my yard," The gray cat shrugged.
"Is there anyone who might know?" The golden tabby pressed.
"Well, the strays would, wouldn't they? Good luck having a conversation with them, they're an unfriendly lot!" The gray tom gave a small laugh, but stopped when he saw the deputy wasn't amused. "Fine. There's another house two yards that way," He pointed with his tail. "There's a tabby and white she-cat called Princess. She travels more than me to chat with the other cats, either she can tell you or she knows someone you can."
"Thank you for your help," Lionheart nodded to the housecat before beckoning Sandstrike and Redpaw to follow him. They ran across the next yard and leaped to the top of the fence. In the next yard, a tabby and white she-cat sat in the unnaturally short grass with a long furred tortoiseshell she-cat and a long furred white tom. For a moment Sandstrike wondered if Whitestorm was with them, before noticing how the kittypet lacked the warrior's scars.
"Ack! Who are you?" The tabby exclaimed when the three clan cats leaped down from the fence.
"A few peaceful cats wanting to ask a few questions," Sandstrike replied.
"Are you strays? You look scrawny," The tabby observed.
"Or perhaps you're just used to seeing fat cats like yourself," Sandstrike muttered. Lionheart glared at her and she remained silent.
"We were told you might be able to help us find some cats we're looking for," Lionheart explained.
"Oh? Did you lose some friends?" The tortoiseshell asked, tilting her raven-black head curiously.
"More like enemies," Redpaw hissed.
"I don't want to get in the middle of a fight-" The white tom began uncertainly.
"You won't be," Sandstrike assured him. "We just need someone to point us in the right direction."
"Alright," Princess sighed. "Who are you trying to find?"
Lionheart gave her a brief description of Brokenstar's rogues.
"Oliver, don't those sound like the cats living in the alley by your house?" The tortoiseshell asked the white cat.
"I guess they do," The white tom replied. "But some of those cats you described fit the description of many around here. I can't be sure the ones by my house are the ones you're looking for."
"Can you take us to where these cats are?" Sandstrike asked.
"Goodness no, any cat to cross them comes back looking worse than the rats in the gutter," Oliver shuddered. "I'll take you part of the way, and leave you directions for the rest of the journey."
"That's all we need," Lionheart smiled at him. "If you don't mind, I'd like to wait for the rest of our friends before we go walking into the den of our enemies."
"Suit yourself," The fluffy cat shrugged, sitting back down to talk with the other kittypets. Sandstrike went back to the yard where they were to meet Tigerclaw, Graystripe, and Cinderpaw. After a moment the three leaped onto the fence beside her.
"Have you found anything?" Sandstrike asked.
"Sighting of Brokenstar's rogues, but every answer about where their den is varies," Graystripe reported.
"We've found a group of kittypets, one of them lives near an alley where the rogues live," Sandstrike told them. "He's going to lead us part of the way."
"Very well," Tigerclaw growled. "Where is everyone else?"
"This way," Sandstrike led the way back to Princess's yard.
"This is where I leave you," Oliver said, leaping onto a fence. "Continue along this sidewalk, cross the road, and go left. Once you reach a gap in the houses where a narrow road breaks off, you've found the alley."
"Thank you for your help," Lionheart nodded to the kittypet. "May Starclan light your path." It was clear the house cat had no idea what Starclan was, but he didn't comment as he disappeared down to the other side of the fence. Lionheart led the way along the gray path to the next corner. They waited for a silver monster to pass, then raced across thunderpath. After passing a few houses they found what was supposed to be the alley.
"It stinks," Cinderpaw observed.
"It smells like Shadowclan," Tigerclaw nodded grimly.
"And crowfood and monsters," Sandstrike added.
"What's our plan?" Graystripe asked. "Run in there and attack?"
"We don't know if this is a trap or not," Lionheart pointed out. "I'll go ahead and scout it out, see if Brokenstar's rogues are really here, and how many cats there are. Then we can form a plan." Without another word the thick-furred golden tabby disappeared around the corner, swallowed by the shadows of the alley. Sandstrike paced restlessly until he returned.
"I counted seven cats. Among them are some I could identify as Brokenstar's rogues," Lionheart informed them.
"Did you see Whitestorm or Brokenstar?" Sandstrike asked. After all, it had simply been a lie that he'd joined the hostile group.
"Most of the cats are hidden among twoleg junk, but I definitely saw at least one white cat," Lionheart answered. He looked at the group. "What do you think? Should we attack?"
"Regardless of whether or not Whitestorm is in there, Brokenstar's rogues are," Tigerclaw rumbled. "And Thunderclan needs to have a few words with them." He unsheathed his claws and lashed his tail.
"If we have to retreat, run back to Oliver's house," Lionheart ordered. "Redpaw, Cinderpaw, stay close to your mentors." He then gave the others a brief description of the alley's layout and where other cats could be hiding. He paired the cats into which area they would attack from.
"Don't leave my side," Sandstrike murmured to her younger sister, who nodded, her eyes narrowed with hatred towards the rogues. Sandstrike bounded across the open space of the alley's entrance, and skidded to a stop on the other side. On the other side, Lionheart flicked his tail with a signal, and the six cats converged on the alley.
Lionheart and Tigerclaw ran out to the middle, while Graystripe, Sandstrike, and the apprentices charged from the sides. Sandstrike leaped up on top of a pile of twoleg trash and jumped on top of a rogue laying on the other side of it. She pinned him down by the shoulders and clawed his flanks. He was quick to flee, and didn't smell of Shadowclan. He was merely a stray cat. Sandstrike moved on to her next opponent, a large, scarred tom she recognized as Clawface of Shadowclan.
"Murderer!" Sandstrike roared, Spottedleaf's body flashing in her memory.
"I did as my Clan asked," Clawface retorted, pushing Sandstrike away. "That's all any warrior ever does."
"You murdered a medicine cat in cold blood," The ginger she-cat snarled.
"She got in the way," Clawface argued, lunging at the Thunderclan warrior for another attack. Sandstrike rolled out of the way and regained her footing to ram into his side. She lashed out at his scarred face with sharp claws before ducking a blow. Sandstrike flung herself at the larger cat, clawing his shoulders, neck, and face without mercy. Sandstrike heard the screeches and battle cries of her enemies and clanmates, and knew she was wasting time. She tore out Clawface's throat with a fierce bite and went to aid Redpaw in her battle against Boulder.
Sandstrike tore Boulder's ear and pushed him off her apprentice, and together they quickly drove him away.
We're winning! Sandstrike thought excitedly. She was running alongside Redpaw into the screeching mass of fur where Lionheart and Tigerclaw fought when a bundle of white fur and claws ran into her.
"Sandstrike!" Hissed a familiar voice.
"Whitestorm!" Sandstrike growled, clawing her former mentor on his shoulder, before slipping out of his grip with her lean form.
"How's life among murderers?" Whitestorm taunted, prancing backwards. The two former clanmates stood, facing each other, exchanging looks of pure hatred. Whitestorm looked scrawnier than before he'd been exiled, but he still looked strong despite his hard life in the streets. His yellow eyes, which had once been deep with wisdom and bright with happiness, were now dark and haunted by his experiences. Sandstrike wondered if she could find guilt in his gaze as well.
"I knew Thunderclan would come for me, sooner or later," Whitestorm spat. "They couldn't let it go! Someone has spun a lie to frame me for Fireheart's death, and thought exile wasn't bad enough for me."
"No," Sandstrike fought to find words for a moment. "They just needed another cat to blame for another crime. Another crime committed by an insider."
"You know who it is," Whitestorm realized, speaking in a soft, hoarse voice. "Why do you let the secrets go on, Sandstrike?"
"To protect the cats I love," Sandstrike's throat was tight with guilt. She shook her head and hardened her resolve. "The time isn't right to tell the truth. Until then, I must give my clanmates their revenge." Sandstrike leapt for Whitestorm's throat, but he dodged her half-hearted attack with ease.
"There's never a right time," Whitestorm spat. "And it's too late now. Thunderclan wants my blood."
"And Brokenstar's rogues," Sandstrike told him.
"We're not rogues anymore," Whitestorm grinned wickedly, his yellow eyes wild. "We're Bloodclan."
"Oh, so the lot of you get exiled from your Clans, and start your own?" Sandstrike gave a small laugh. "How's that going for you?"
"Quite well," Whitestorm stepped back, looking around the alley proudly. Sandstrike took a moment to take in how many cats there were. The Thunderclan cats were getting attacked by masses of rogues. While Thunderclan was greatly outnumbered, the rogues were clearly weak with hunger, and their claws were untrained and clumsy.
"Thunderclan! Retreat!" Lionheart's yowl echoed off the stone walls. Sandstrike looked to see the deputy fighting to free himself from the rogues. Tigerclaw ripped himself out of their claws and leaped clear of their reach onto a pile of trash. Graystripe helped Cinderpaw and Redpaw escape the rogues.
"Go to Oliver, wait for us!" Graystripe called after them.
"Help!" Lionheart yowled, fighting to keep his paws. Sandstrike leaped towards the deputy, but Whitestorm knocked her off her paws. Sandstrike lashed out at him, her eyes slitted with fury.
"Get lost, Whitestorm!" She screeched. "You're no rogue, you wouldn't let your clanmate get murdered! Let me help him!"
"He's nothing more than a traitor to me," Whitestorm growled.
"He believed you! He wanted you to stay! Don't punish him!" Sandstrike protested, continuing to claw at the large white tom.
"His loss will punish the Clan that betrayed me," Whitestorm said grimly, blocking Sandstrike and watching Lionheart's struggles. Sandstrike turned and watched as Lionheart was dragged down into the screeching bundle of fur and claws.
"Tigerclaw!" Sandstrike yowled. "Help him!" She spotted Graystripe attempting to reach Lionheart, but there were too many enemies to fight. Sandstrike lashed out at Whitestorm's throat, who reared back to avoid death. Sandstrike took the opportunity and dashed to the attack, but it was clearly too late. Some of the rogues were beginning to leave, while others tore at the bloody scrap of golden fur.
"Go, fox-hearts!" Sandstrike snarled. "He's beat, let us take him home!" A large ginger tom loomed in front of Sandstrike, his yellow eyes cold.
"No one buries the dead in the streets. The rats will eat well tonight," He grunted.
"That's not how we do it in the Clans," Sandstrike hissed.
"Bloodclan aren't like you forest fools," The ginger tom sneered. "Go."
"Lionheart deserves to be buried by his clanmates!" Sandstrike insisted. She felt cold and hollow inside, she fought back grief for the moment. She was driven by the duty she owed to her Clan: To bring Lionheart's body back for a burial.
The city cat did not reply to Sandstrike with words, instead lashing out at her face. Sandstrike leaped backwards to avoid the strike, which was deadlier than she realized. The tom's claws were long and sharp. She realized they weren't claws at all, but teeth. The teeth of dogs, used as reinforced claws. Sandstrike looked up at the cat, and realized he wore a collar. The collar was decorated with more than dog teeth, but the teeth and claws of cats as well.
Murderers, Sandstrike thought faintly. What kind of sick cats are these?
"Hey, forest cat!" The ginger cat called to Whitestorm. "Should we teach her a lesson?"
Whitestorm shook his head. "We'd only do the forest cats a favor. This one's trouble, and would benefit us more if we let her live. She tears apart her Clan from the inside."
"I'll tear you apart too!" Sandstrike snarled, slowly turning around to view all of her enemies. "You've made a powerful enemy today. By murdering our deputy, you've declared war."
"Look, kitty," The orange tom growled. "War we can beat. Starvation we cannot. We need food from the forest, and we'll get it one way or another. You tell your leader that Thunderclan can give us food, or we'll take it ourselves."
"Good luck with that," Sandstrike bared her teeth at the rogues and ran after Tigerclaw and Graystripe, rage clouding her mind.
Arrogant little furballs, thinking they can take on all of Thunderclan! When the patrol reached where the apprentices were waiting, Sandstrike couldn't find the words to tell them that their deputy was dead.
Not just their deputy, but their kin, Sandstrike realized. He had been Cinderpaw's father, and Redpaw's uncle. How will I tell Goldenflower? As the rush of battle faded from Sandstrike's mind, her heart began to ache. The Clan had suffered such a loss… and it was her fault.
I'll make Bloodclan pay if it's the last thing I do, Sandstrike vowed.
