chapter 13

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⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

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⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱

SUNHIGH CAME AND they were making their way through WindClan hunting grounds. Whitepaw took a short nap as they travelled and everyone was still sore after the rat fight, but Whitepaw and Bluestar were both in a much more critical condition. Bluestar's pace was even slower now, but she refused to stop and rest. The grim look on her face, clouded by pain, told Whitepaw how much she wanted to reach the camp.

"Don't worry about ShadowClan warriors," Bluestar meowed through gritted teeth as Tigerclaw paused to sniff the air. "You won't find any here today."

Whitepaw blinked her eyes opened. How could she be so sure?

They picked their way carefully down the steep, rocky hillside that led to Fourtrees and joined a familiar trail that led home. It was late afternoon, and Whitepaw began to think longingly of her nest, and the scent of the medicine den to heal her wounds, and the plump helping of fresh-kill.

"I can still smell the stench of ShadowClan," Graypaw meowed as they trekked through ThunderClan's hunting grounds.

"Perhaps the breeze has carried it down from WindClan's territory," Firepaw suggested. Though Whitepaw knew that he could smell it too.

Suddenly, Whitepaw strained her ears and lifted her head. "Can you all hear that?"

Her blood ran cold. She could hear in the distance battle-hungry yowls, and the shrill squeal of terrified kits.

"Quick!" Bluestar howled. "It is as StarClan warned me. Our camp is being attacked!" She tried to leap forward but stumbled. She pushed herself up and limped onward.

Tigerclaw made sure Whitepaw was holding on tight before he pelted forward, side-by-side with Firepaw. Graypaw and Ravenpaw followed, their tail-fur bristled to twice its usual size.

The sounds of battle grew louder and louder as they neared the camp entrance, and the stench of ShadowClan filled her nostrils. The cats dashed through the tunnel and into the clearing.

They were met by a frenzy of fighting, ThunderClan cats battling furiously with ShadowClan warriors. The kits were out of sight, and Whitepaw hoped they were safely hidden in the nursery. She guessed the weakest elders would be sheltering inside the hollow trunk of their fallen tree.

Every corner of the camp seemed to be alive with warriors. Whitepaw could see Frostfur and Goldenflower clawing and biting at a huge grey tom. Even the young tabby queen Brindleface was fighting, though she was very close to kitting. Darkstripe was locked in a fierce tussle with a black warrior. Three of the elders: Smallear, Patchpelt and One-eye, were nipping bravely at a tortoiseshell who fought with twice their speed and ferocity.

Tigerclaw leaped toward the medicine den where Spottedleaf was inside preparing the medicine. Redstream must have been out there fighting. Tigerclaw gently put her down in a nest and touched noses with her before he left the den to leap into battle.

After awhile the sound of battle disappeared and Spottedleaf already patched up Whitepaw's rat wounds with burdock root and cobwebs. After Spottedleaf made sure that ThunderClan had defeated ShadowClan, she helped Whitepaw out of the nursery gently. The white she-cat limped toward under the high-rock where everyone was gathering. The queens ran to the nursery to check on their kits. Whitepaw found herself waiting tensely for their return, her body filling with relief when she heard squeals and purrs coming from the bramble den.

Frostfur wove her way back through the crowd, followed by Yellowfang. The white queen stepped forward and addressed them. "Our kits are all safe, thanks to Yellowfang. A ShadowClan warrior killed brave Rosetail and was trying to steal them from their nest, but Yellowfang fought him off."

"It was no ordinary warrior either," Firepaw put in. "I saw him. It was Blackfoot."

"The ShadowClan deputy!" meowed Brindleface.

There was a stir at the edge of the group, as Bluestar limped forward and made her way over to the apprentices. The grave expression on her face was enough to tell the Clan that something was wrong.

"Redstream and Spottedleaf are with Lionheart," she murmured. "He was injured in battle. It looks bad." She turned her head toward the shadow on the far side of the Highrock where the warrior lay, a motionless bundle of dusty golden fur.

A high-pitched wail rose in Graypaw's throat as he raced toward his mentor. As Graypaw's howl of grief echoed through the clearing, Whitepaw's eyes scanned the clearing and she almost sighed in relief when she saw Midnightpaw okay, and padding toward her with solemn, amber eyes. "Lionheart is dead," she mewed and Whitepaw felt a shudder of grief go through her.

The white apprentice immediately raced toward the golden warrior's body and kneeled down to share tongues with the deceased deputy. Firepaw laid between Whitepaw and Spottedleaf, also bidding his respects to Lionheart.

She licked Lionheart's shoulder as every cat began to crowd around. "Thank you for your wisdom and encouraging me to be more courageous."

Whitepaw saw watched as Bluestar limped back to her den and crouch down outside, staring grief-stricken in the distance. It was the first time Whitepaw has seen her look so defeated, and she felt a chill run through her white pelt.

Whitepaw was silent under Highrock until it was moonhigh. Tigerclaw came to sit with her after briefly sharing tongues with Lionheart. Spottedleaf and Redstream padded around the camp, tending to wounds and battered nerves. Whitepaw pressed her nose into Tigerclaw's front leg and tried to seek comfort from his warmth.

Bluestar stood and slowly hauled herself up onto the Highrock. The Clan cats seemed to have been waiting for her. As soon as she had settled herself in her usual spot, they began to gather in the clearing below.

"It is nearly moonhigh," meowed Bluestar as Midnightpaw sat on the other side of Whitepaw, next to Redstream. "And it is once more my duty—much, much too soon—to name ThunderClan's new deputy," her voice was tired and cracked with sadness.

Bluestar took a deep breath and continued, "I say these words before the body of Lionheart, so that his spirit may hear and approve of my choice." She hesitated, "I have not forgotten how one cat avenged the death of Redtail and brought his body back to us. ThunderClan needs this fearless loyalty even more now." Bluestar paused again and then meowed the name out loud and clear. "Tigerclaw will be the new deputy of ThunderClan."

There was a yowl of approval, with the loudest voices coming from Longtail, Darkstripe and Whitepaw. Whitestorm sat calmly, his eyes closed, his tail wrapped neatly around him. He was nodding slowly and approvingly.

Tigerclaw lifted his chin proudly, his eyes half-closed as he listened to the Clan. Then he stalked through the crowd accepting tributes with the smallest nods and leaped up onto the Highrock beside Bluestar. "ThunderClan," he yowled. "I am honoured to accept the position of Clan deputy. I never expected to gain such high rank, but by the spirit of Lionheart, I vow to serve you the best I can." He gravely dipped his head, fixing the crowd with his wide amber eyes, and jumped down from the Highrock.

Tigerclaw then padded toward Whitepaw and she got up with a purr. "Congratulations, Tigerclaw." She meowed and touched noses with him.

"You should go to your nest," He meowed. "You deserve some rest."

She nodded and padded toward the apprentices' den, tiredness finally catching up to her.

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