Warriors AU: Fire and Ice

Chapter 12

Sandstorm lifted his head, about to speak, but Cinderpaw beat him to it.

"It's my fault, Goldenflower." He stared boldly up at the great tabby. "We were hunting on the frozen stream by the training hollow, on the bend by the deep pool. Even that bit was frozen. I slipped and Silverstream came to help me, but the ice wasn't thick enough for him and it cracked and he fell into the water." Goldenflower looked into his clear, bright eyes as he added, "It really is deep there. Sandstorm had to pull him out."

Sandstorm cringed, remembering how he had stood motionless with terror at the sight of Silverstream disappearing into the river.

Goldenflower nodded and looked at Silverstream. "You'd better get yourself to Raggedpelt before you freeze to death." The Thunderclan deputy stood up and stalked away, and Sandstorm breathed a sigh of relief.

Silverstream didn't hesitate. The long run home hadn't stopped his teeth from chattering. He bounded away to Raggedpelt's den. Sorrelpaw glanced at Cinderpaw and padded off to his nest, his tail drooping with exhaustion.

Sandstorm looked at Cinderpaw. "Aren't you even a bit frightened by Goldenflower?" he asked curiously.

"Why should I be?" replied Cinderpaw. "He's a great warrior. I admire him."

Of course, why shouldn't he? Sandstorm thought. "You lie very well," he growled sternly, trying his best to act like a mentor.

"Well, I try not to," mewed Cinderpaw. "I just thought the truth wouldn't be very helpful here."

Sandstorm had to admit he had a point. He shook his head slowly. "Go and get warm."

"Yes, Sandstorm!" Cinderpaw dipped his head and charged after Sorrelpaw.

Sandstorm padded over to the warriors' den. He was worried at how easily the story about Silverstream's soaking had tumbled from Cinderpaw's mouth. But he also believed he was a well-meaning and honest cat. He thought of Patchpaw, another good cat. Had the story she'd told about Goldenflower killing Redtail simply been just that—a story that tumbled from her mouth in the heat of the moment? Sandstorm shook the thought away. Patchpaw had been terrified when she spoke to Sandstorm. She obviously believed her own story. Why else would she have been frightened enough to leave the Clan?

Sandstorm chose a few pieces of fresh-kill and carried them over to the nettle clump. He settled himself beside it and began to gnaw thoughtfully on a mouse. The admiration in Cinderpaw's voice when he had spoken of Goldenflower worried him. It seemed as though he alone suspected there was more to the Thunderclan deputy than met the eye. Oakstar's attitude toward Goldenflower certainly hadn't changed. She had been treating him with the same trust and respect that she had always shown him. With a flash of frustration, Sandstorm ripped another mouthful from his meal.

A loud sneeze made him look up. Silverstream was heading toward him.

"How are you?" Sandstorm asked as Silverstream arrived, smelling of one of Raggedpelt's herb concoctions.

Silverstream sat down heavily and coughed.

"I've saved you some food," Sandstorm meowed, pushing a plump thrush and a vole towards his friend.

"Raggedpelt says I have to stay in camp. She says I have a chill," Silverstream meowed thickly.

"I'm not surprised. What did she dose you with?"

"Feverfew and lavandar." Silverstream lay down and began to nibble at the thrush. "This'll be enough for me," he mumbled. "I'm not very hungry."

Sandstorm looked at his friend in amazement. That wasn't something he had ever thought he'd hear Silverstream say. "You sure?" he asked. "There's plenty here."