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“Spottedleaf is with Lionheart,” she murmured. “He was injured in the battle. It looks bad.”
NOOOOOOOO
As Graypaw’s howl of grief echoed around the clearing, Firepaw’s fur tingled and his blood ran cold. It was the cry he had heard in his dream!
Firepaw waited to hear what words he would share with his warrior friend, but Tigerclaw remained silent as he licked the matted fur. To Firepaw’s confusion, the dark tabby’s eyes seemed to be fixed on Ravenpaw rather than the fallen deputy.
The gray apprentice was still lying with his nose resting against Lionheart’s cooling golden pelt.
T_T
“And it is once more my duty—much, much too soon—to name ThunderClan’s new deputy.”
Do not name fucking Tigerclaw for the love of StarClan
“She should never have chosen him!” he muttered. “Are you talking about Tigerclaw?” Firepaw whispered. “He’s wanted to be deputy ever since he took care of Redtail—” Ravenpaw mewed.
I FUCKING KNEW IT
“And now, I wish to invite Yellowfang to join ThunderClan.”
Yellowfang looked up at the Clan leader and murmured, “I am honored, Bluestar, and I accept your offer.”
Tigerclaw went on. “We still have a while before sunset. We must concentrate on rebuilding our camp. Meanwhile, if you suspect anything, or anyone, tell me. Be assured, anything you say will be in confidence.”
Like I'm gonna trust the word of a traitor
“How did you manage to fight Blackfoot off?” Firepaw asked, unable to keep the admiration out of his voice. “Blackfoot’s strong, but he’s not a clever fighter. Fighting you was more of a challenge.”
“Yes,” Yellowfang admitted softly. “He changed the Clan.” She gave a wheezy laugh. “He always knew how to give a good speech. He could make you believe a mouse was a rabbit if he set his mind to it. Perhaps that is why I was so blind to his faults.”
His words seemed to shake Yellowfang back into the present. “Not Runningnose?” she meowed. “Yep!” Yellowfang shook her head. “But he can’t even cure his own cold!”
Jeez poor Runningnose
“No one would notice if I slipped out of this hole here. It’d only take a couple of rabbit hops.”
Oh Firepaw.
No, just Tigerclaw, and two other cats. He sniffed the air again. Darkstripe and Longtail! What were they doing here?
What indeed.
“And the Clan would be better off without a traitor like Ravenpaw.” “I have to say I agree with you, Darkstripe,” murmured Tigerclaw, his voice heavy with emotion. “Even though he’s my own apprentice . . .” He trailed off as if he were too upset to say any more.
You scumbag.
“I’ll go and get you some poppy from Spottedleaf,” Firepaw offered. He was worried by the dull look in his friend’s eyes, and the way his muscles seemed stiff with pain.
Oh, no.
“Firepaw,” she hissed. “StarClan spoke to me moons ago, before you joined the Clan. I sense they want me to tell you this now. They said only fire can save our Clan.”
Why had she shared them with him? Surely fire was an enemy to all who lived in the forest.
Literally WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING NAME DUDE LOLOL
Ravenpaw’s head hung low as he disappeared through the gorse tunnel.
Poor baby. I hope he'll be okay.
He knew it wasn’t a good dream by the tiny mewls and squeaks that Ravenpaw was making. Suddenly the black cat leaped to his paws, his eyes stretched wide in terror. His fur was standing on end, and his back was arched.
I hate Tigerclaw SO MUCH for doing this to my Ravenpaw
Redtail was watching the last warrior running away and Tigerclaw”—Ravenpaw paused, then gulped—“Tigerclaw j-jumped on him. He sank his teeth into the back of his neck and Redtail fell to the ground, dead.
He blinked affectionately at Firepaw and bounded away.
Aww
“I think you ought to know that, in the battle with the rats, it was not my fifth life that I lost, but my seventh.”
Suspected as much.
Frostfur came sprinting into the clearing, her tail bristling and her eyes wide with alarm. “My kits! Someone has taken my kits!”
No kit-scent, just the bitter smell of Yellowfang’s fear. What was she afraid of? Firepaw wondered.
Ummm probably that she'll get framed
Firepaw nosed his way forward and saw Tigerclaw standing over a motionless bundle of dappled fur. Spottedleaf!
KILL TIGERCLAW
Who had done this?
TIGERCLAW
“Yellowfang has killed Spottedleaf and taken my kits!” screeched Frostfur.
Let's not jump to conclusions.
Firepaw couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Dazed with grief, his mind whirled. Could Yellowfang really have killed Spottedleaf?
You twit.
“Yellowfang must have had help,” Speckletail growled. “Someone from ThunderClan?” came the anxious voice of Frostfur. “You’ve heard what Tigerclaw’s been saying about Ravenpaw. Perhaps he had something to do with it. I’ve never felt comfortable with him, myself.”
“We’ll have to take him somewhere Tigerclaw won’t find him, somewhere he can survive without the Clan.” Graypaw stared at him for a moment. “What about Barley?” “Barley!” Firepaw echoed. “You mean, take Ravenpaw to the Twolegplace?”
“What if Tigerclaw comes looking for me?” Ravenpaw’s voice was small against the rumbling storm. Firepaw met his gaze steadily. “He won’t. I will tell him you are dead.”
“I knew ThunderClan would blame me!” she hissed, her eyes flashing with all her old hostility. “Where are the kits?” Firepaw demanded. “We can smell their blood!” spat Graypaw. “Have you harmed them?” “I don’t have them,” snarled Yellowfang angrily. “I’ve come to find them and take them back. I stopped because I smelled blood too. But they’re not here.”
“I know who has taken the kits,” she continued. “I smelled his scent near the nursery.” “Who was it?” Firepaw asked. “Clawface—one of Brokenstar’s warriors. And as long as the kits are with ShadowClan, they’re in great danger.”
“But they are only three moons old!” Graypaw gasped. “That hasn’t stopped him before. He has been training kits as young as three moons since he became leader. At five moons he sends them out as warriors!”
He has plenty more kits to spare, and if they run out, he can steal them from other Clans!” Her voice was filled with rage. “After all, we’re talking about a cat who killed kits from his own Clan!” Firepaw and Graypaw were stunned. “If he killed ShadowClan’s kits, why wasn’t he punished?” Firepaw asked at last. “Because he lied,” growled Yellowfang. Bitterness made her voice hard. “He accused me of their murder, and ShadowClan believed him!”
“Brokenstar insisted on training them too hard and too young. He took two of the kits away for battle practice.” Yellowfang took a deep, wheezing breath. “They were only four moons old. They were already dead when he brought them back to me. They bore the scratches and bites of a full warrior, not of apprentices. He must have fought them himself. There was nothing I could do.
Firepaw took a deep breath to calm himself, then looked steadily into Whitestorm’s eyes. “Yellowfang didn’t take them,” he meowed. “Nor did she murder Spottedleaf. She wants to help us rescue our kits.” Whitestorm stared back at him, then blinked slowly. “Lead the way, Firepaw,” he ordered.
Good kitties.
“We have come to help you, not to harm you. You have come for your kits; we will help you rescue them.” “What’s in it for you?” asked Whitestorm warily. “We want your help to get rid of Brokenstar. He has broken the warrior code, and ShadowClan is suffering.”
“Brokenstar is surrounded by a small group of elite warriors,” answered Ashfur. “They are the ones to fear, because they would die for him without question. The other warriors obey his orders only because they are frightened. They will fight by his side as long as they think Brokenstar is going to win. If they thought he would lose . . .”
“How did Raggedstar die?” asked Whitestorm curiously. “There were so many rumors at the Gatherings, but no one seemed to know for sure.” Yellowfang’s eyes clouded with sorrow. “He was ambushed by a warrior patrol from another Clan.”
Firepaw saw Yellowfang gripping Brokenstar with muddy, bloodstained paws. His body bled from several wounds. His ears were flattened against his head, and his whiskers were drawn back as he crouched, flattened beneath Yellowfang’s powerful grasp. “I never thought you would be harder to kill than my father!” he snarled up at her.
“You killed Raggedstar?” Yellowfang wailed, her eyes wide with disbelief. Brokenstar eyed her coldly. “You found his body. Didn’t you recognize my fur between his claws?”
No surprises here
“Those kits were weak,” Brokenstar hissed, bending his face toward Yellowfang’s ear. “They would have been no use to ShadowClan. If I hadn’t killed them, some other warrior would have.” A wail of grief went up from a black-and-white ShadowClan queen. Brokenstar ignored her.
“Don’t waste your time, apprentice! I’ve shared dreams with StarClan. You will have to kill me nine times over before I join them. Do you really think you’re strong enough for that?”
Right nine cats line up and let's get this done
But the watching ShadowClan cats had begun to pad slowly toward their defeated leader, snarling and hissing with hatred. They were battered and half-starved, but Brokenstar was outnumbered, and he seemed to realize this with a nervous flick of his tail.
“This isn’t over, apprentice,” he hissed before he turned and vanished into the forest after his broken warriors.
It will take time to rebuild this Clan, Firepaw thought.
Make Yellowfang the leader!
Runningnose stepped out of the shadows. His forepaw was coated in a layer of cobwebs, which he silently passed to Yellowfang. She nodded her thanks and began to treat the kit’s wound.
I guess he is good for something after all
“You helped ShadowClan rid itself of a brutal and dangerous leader, and we are grateful. But it is time you left our camp and returned to your own. I promise your hunting grounds will be free of ShadowClan warriors as long as we can find enough food in our own territory.” Whitestorm nodded. “Hunt in peace for one moon, Nightpelt. ThunderClan knows you need time to rebuild your Clan.”
