Firepaw crept down the slope into camp, watching the ShadowClan cats with curiosity. Upon seeing the tortoiseshell she-cat, he realized he realized that he recognized her from a meeting of the Tunnlers, and gave her a slight nod—which she didn't return, probably for the best—in greeting. To Wetpaw, he gave a flick of his tail, which the apprentice reciprocated.
Next to Wetpaw was a huge, silver, tom, who stared around at the camp, keeping up a stoic and regal gaze. When Bluestar emerged from her den, he gave a deep bow to her in greeting. The she-cat looked a little surprised at first—Firepaw could only tell, however, by the small step backwards she had taken—then bowed back, perhaps not quite as deep, but close enough.
"ShadowClan. What are you doing in ThunderClan camp?" she mewed, voice carrying across the camp. A couple queens crouched at the nursery, guarding it just in case.
The tom introduced himself as Boulder. "We are here to inform you that Brokenstar is dead." A few shocked mews sounded in the camp. "Blackfoot is dead as well. We found dog and fox scent on them. They were practically shredded, near the WindClan border. WindClan has been speaking of foxes for moons; it was a ploy. Nevertheless, I am now the leader of ShadowClan, and I journey to the Moonstone tonight. That is all." Firepaw blinked. This was absurd; even if there was a fox on WindClan's territory, and they had accidentally chased it onto ShadowClan land, why were they being blamed? The silver tom waited a moment for some cat to protest. Sure enough, Longtail spoke up.
"How did you become leader? Last I checked, Blackfoot was deputy." Bluestar shot him a look, but he had already spoken.
Boulder nodded. "A reasonable question. Our medicine cat, Runningnose, proclaimed a message from StarClan, saying that I was meant to be leader."
Longtail cast him a dubious look, but a quick glance at Bluestar made him keep his mouth shut. Bluestar finally nodded. "ThunderClan is sorry for ShadowClan's loss; he was not our leader, but he was appointed by StarClan. If that is all, we will escort you to your border."
The cats in the ShadowClan patrol glanced at each other before Boulder gave another nod. "Very well." From beside Bluestar, Redtail padded up.
"Lionheart, Graypaw—escort them to their border," the tortoiseshell mewed, glancing to Bluestar for a brief moment and registering the approving ear flick before his eyes darted back to the patrol.
Graypaw's ears perked up at the idea of escorting enemy warriors out of ThunderClan camp, and he trotted quickly to stand beside Lionheart, who stood at attention. Firepaw, meanwhile, made a beeline to Dustpaw and Sandpaw, who sat side by side, staring at the spectacle of ShadowClan warriors in ThunderClan camp.
"Why're ShadowClan and WindClan at eachothers' throats all the time?" he finally asked as the patrol made its way out, Graypaw at the rear and talking to Wetpaw. Dustpaw turned his gaze to the fire-colored tom and promptly rolled his eyes.
"Fireface, how do you not know?" Sandpaw jumped in before her friend had a chance to ask. Firepaw let out a chuckle.
"Fireface?"
"You heard me. Anyway, WindClan and ShadowClan have been enemies since the dawn of the clans."
Dustpaw gave a small shrug. "I'm not sure their rivalry goes back that far."
Sandpaw raised a brow at the tom, but said nothing, allowing him to continue. Firepaw glanced between the two, trying to read their secret language and found nothing. "WindClan and ShadowClan just aren't friends—they're on different sides of the Thunderpath, same as us and ShadowClan, but they've just always gone back and forth." He didn't seem to have much more to add, and Sandpaw gave a smug smile.
YOU ARE READING
Daylight
FanfictionAn old story with a new spin. Once, there was a kittypet known as Rusty. Most know him as Fireheart, or even Firestar. But what if he got to the clans a little later? What if... he didn't manage to be a full clan cat at all? Would 'fire alone' still...
