The sequel is out! The prologue of The Lost Prophecy #2: Broken Destinies is up, and I'll put chapter 1 out in the next day or two.

So I said I would update this when the sequel was out, but I can't have a chapter that's just an author's note. What better way to not break the site rules than to have a bonus chapter from a side character's POV?

I wished I wrote more about how Dustpaw and Yellowfang ended up befriending each other, so I thought that deserved to be expanded upon. This starts at chapter 7, the day after Yellowfang came to ThunderClan.

Dustpaw began to pad toward the gorse tunnel, going over his tasks for the day in his mind. Hunt, chase off fox, then a border patrol. It would be a busy day, but he was looking forward to it. He was most anticipating driving the fox out of ThunderClan territory; he'd never actually seen one, but he knew enough about them that he was confident he could help scare it away.

But he had to hunt for the old mange-pelt first. Yellowfang. Dustpaw grumbled to himself at the thought. Bluestar had announced that his warrior training would be sped up, but then moments later informed him that he as well as the rest of the apprentices would be responsible for the care of the old rogue. It made no sense to Dustpaw, and he had no desire to talk to Yellowfang beyond what was necessary; they had already gotten into quite the spat the previous night. However, Yellowfang seemed to want to talk to him; she yowled out a mocking greeting as he passed.

"Oh hello, Voleleg." Dustpaw cringed at the name. "Off to hunt for your Clan?"

Dustpaw turned. "For you, actually."

"Oh, great. I'll just resign myself to my own starvation."

Dustpaw's pelt pricked in irritation. "Actually, you should be thankful you got me to hunt for you. If you got Ravenpaw you would probably starve."

Yellowfang scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that, Voleleg." Dustpaw flattened his ears; he hoped Yellowfang's derisive nicknaming wouldn't last. "You should get on it then. I want a thrush, by the way. Haven't had anything with feathers for a while."

"Too bad. You don't get a choice." Dustpaw stood up to walk away.

"What, a good hunter like you can't track a common bird through his own territory?" Yellowfang's mocking voice rang in his ears.

Dustpaw narrowed his eyes. "I could find any type of prey in the forest, and catch it this morning."

Yellowfang met his eyes with a challenging glare. "Bring me a thrush and maybe I'll believe you."

"I will," Dustpaw snarled, stalking away.

He pushed his way out of the ThunderClan camp, his tail swishing against the prickly sides of the gorse tunnel. He'd show her.

Breathing in the air, he began to head deeper into the woods. There were prey scents hidden among the leafy ones, but no thrush. He frowned, deciding to circle around the far end of the territory by Twolegplace. There were plenty of thrushes on that end of ThunderClan's hunting grounds.

Finally. It had taken him most of the morning, but he had finally done it. A dead thrush lay at his paws, and not a moment too soon. Sunhigh had almost arrived, and Dustpaw needed to be back to camp by then if he wanted to take part in the patrol to drive the fox off ThunderClan territory.

This will show her. With a flash of triumph, Dustpaw picked up the thrush and carried it back to camp.

But when he dropped it in front of her, he did not get the reaction he expected.

"I thought you just hunted like a three-legged vole." Dustpaw's ears burned; the old rogue was taunting him. "I didn't think you hunted like one as well! I could have caught five pieces of prey in that amount of time when I was an apprentice!"

"Catch your own prey then!" Dustpaw snapped with a lash of his tail. Oh but wait, you can't. He scowled; Yellowfang had baited him into catching her choice in prey, and her only response was to mock him!

He hadn't even gotten the chance to eat himself, but there was no time now. The fox chasing patrol was waiting for him at the gorse tunnel.

His irritation must have been clear on his face, because when he approached Willowpelt she gave him a concerned look. "What's wrong?"

"The rogue," Dustpaw growled under his breath.

"That mange ridden prey thief." Darkstripe slitted his eyes, and Dustpaw felt a savage sense of pleasure that his mentor disliked the old cat more than he did. "Bluestar should never have accepted her."

Tigerclaw silenced Darkstripe with a look. "I'm sure Bluestar has her reasons. You shouldn't question our leader." Darkstripe looked suitably scolded. "Come on, let's get a move on." The patrol headed out of the camp and began to make its way toward the stream. Dustpaw sniffed as they went, but didn't detect anything indicating the presence of a fox. "Here's the plan," Tigerclaw meowed, loping at the head of the group. "We follow the scent trail as far as it leads. Once we find the fox, Willowpelt will loop around the other side and run it toward the rest of us. Darkstripe, Dustpaw, and I will attack it from the other side. We need to make sure we see it leave ThunderClan territory. Where it goes after that it doesn't matter."

"Why not just all confront it at once?" Dustpaw questioned, tipping his head.

"Foxes hate surprises," Darkstripe explained. "If we all jump out at it from different directions, it will think there are more of us than there really are. It will fear us."

"Exactly, Darkstripe." Tigerclaw nodded approvingly before he froze. "It's ahead of us," he growled, lowering his voice. "Circle around, Willowpelt."

Willowpelt bounded ahead of the group and disappeared into the undergrowth. Dustpaw and Darkstripe fell into position across from a bramble thicket, while Tigerclaw took a spot a little ways off.

As they waited, Dustpaw felt a flicker of amusement imagining Ravenpaw's reaction if he had been in the same situation. Dustpaw shook his head. His brother was a hopeless scaredy mouse.

Now a new sound rustled his ear fur- something was there. Dustpaw stared at the bramble thicket ahead of him, waiting to see Tigerclaw's and Darkstripe's response. He wanted to fight, and he would, but he was no mousebrain; he knew he didn't stand a chance in StarClan against a fox without his Clanmates.

Had Willowpelt found the fox yet? Dustpaw suddenly knew the answer when a long, narrow, red-furred snout poked out of the ferns. Stay very still.

Suddenly the fox's head jerked in his direction.

"Attack!" Tigerclaw roared. "Drive it off!"

Dustpaw raced alongside Darkstripe, focusing on timing his paw steps. He imagined how he'd weave around the fox to give it a sharp jab to the nose, and a pang coursed through his chest. Redtail had taught him that move early on in his apprenticeship.

Now Darkstripe and Tigerclaw pulled ahead, just as Willowpelt appeared behind the fox. Darkstripe attacked from the side while Willowpelt threw herself at the fox's tail. Tigerclaw reared up on his hind paws, batting its muzzle with all his strength and leaving a gash that stretched halfway down its neck.

Dustpaw plunged into the battle. "Get out of our territory, dog-breath!" He slashed the fox across its nose as it whipped around, and then it was running.

"After it!" Tigerclaw yowled, and now the patrol was running, with Tigerclaw in the front and Dustpaw keeping pace with the rest of his Clanmates. They sped through the forest at breakneck speed, the bright red tail tip of the fox fluttering in and out of view ahead of them. Soon they reached the Thunderpath, and Dustpaw saw the fox unhesitatingly begin to race straight down the middle.

Dustpaw peered at the rapidly shrinking outline of the fox as it disappeared running down the Thunderpath. It was somewhere between ShadowClan and WindClan territory now.

"I wonder if it will run all the way to Highstones," Willowpelt murmured. "Hopefully some other cat doesn't run into it."

Darkstripe flicked his tail. "Not our problem."

As they walked back, Dustpaw yawned, looking forward to a routine evening of patrolling.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the branches, shining into Dustpaw's eyes. It was his day to tend to Yellowfang. He was somewhat alright with this. Even though he wasn't looking forward to being at Yellowfang's beck and call, the dark gray she-cat was a change from the usual.

The old rogue's complaining began immediately when Dustpaw arrived. "My leg hurts. Have Spottedleaf show you how to make a poultice."

Grumbling, Dustpaw trudged to the medicine den. "Spottedleaf?" he called into the cavern. "Could you help me make a poultice for Yellowfang?"

Spottedleaf's amber eyes glowed in the dim light. "Her injury is bothering her?"

Dustpaw nodded.

"Okay, just a moment." Spottedleaf shuffled around, digging out a pair of long stemmed plants. Dustpaw recognized them from the first night Yellowfang had been in camp.

"Crush these and spread them evenly on her wound," Spottedleaf meowed, pushing the stems toward him.

"Thanks." Dustpaw bent down to pick up the herbs, and carried them over to Yellowfang. "Here you go," he meowed, dropping the stems at the old she-cat's paws.

Yellowfang stared at him. "Well, get on with it then, or are you going to sit here all day like a half-dead squirrel?"

Dustpaw blinked, remembering how she had wanted to do it herself her first night in the camp. "Didn't you want to make it yourself?"

"No, you do it. I put my trust," she meowed, pausing dramatically, "in your paws."

Grumbling, Dustpaw chewed the stems into a thick paste, and he leaned forward, wrinkling his nose. "Ugh." Gagging at the scent of the herbs as much as Yellowfang's fur, Dustpaw applied the poultice to the old she-cat's leg. When he was done he shook out his pelt. "Well if that's all." Dustpaw stood up.

"Oh, wait just one moment, Voleleg; you're not done." Dustpaw froze. "I have ticks. That gray apprentice was getting them out last night, but that lazy denmate of yours didn't get to all of them." Dustpaw scowled. Graypaw was more relaxed than lazy, and he wondered if maybe Yellowfang had sent him off before he was done just so Dustpaw would have to do it. "Go get some mouse bile from Spottedleaf and come back here."

He groaned, and began to lope over to the medicine den once more. This was going to be a long day. "Spottedleaf, could I get some mouse bile?" he meowed when he reached the entrance once more. "Yellowfang has ticks."

"Still?" Spottedleaf looked up from where she was sitting near the back of her den. "Hold on, I'll bring you some in just a moment." Dustpaw shifted his paws impatiently. The sooner he got this over with the better.

Soon enough, he was holding a piece of mouse bile covered moss and was heading back to Yellowfang's den. Suddenly Sandpaw stalked past, her tail lashing. "That old mange pelt!" she spat. "I spend all day catching her prey and the first thing she says is it's too gristly! The nerve!"

Dustpaw grunted in agreement, setting the moss on the ground. "She's a nightmare."

"She should be thankful we didn't just drive her off our territory," Sandpaw continued, her green eyes bright with anger.

"Definitely." Dustpaw gave her a scheming glance. "I was thinking, I could just pretend to treat her ticks." He shot a look at the moss resting on the ground. "How long do you think it would take before she noticed?"

"Probably awhile with her lack of grooming." Sandpaw's whiskers twitched. "Maybe you could just repeatedly act like you got all her ticks, and then find more the next day. Keep that up for a few sunrises."

Dustpaw let out a mrrow of laughter. "I wish. I doubt I could convince her for more than a day- she'd notice something was off." His pelt twitched unconsciously.

"You're right," Sandpaw meowed, sounding wistful. "But we can dream."

Dustpaw grasped the moss in his jaws, waved his tail at Sandpaw and padded away, arriving at Yellowfang's side with new energy. The old rogue still had a few ticks, but they were easy to find and Dustpaw was able to remove them quickly.

"There. All done," he meowed. "Ugh. I have to go wash this stink off my paws now."

"Catch me a mouse on the way back," Yellowfang meowed.

Dustpaw snorted. "No way. Sandpaw just brought you food." He flicked his tail toward the remnants of Yellowfang's most recent meal.

"I'm still hungry." Yellowfang swiped a paw over her matted ear. "ShadowClan apprentices are better. Much more respectful. But even then all you young cats treat tending to your elders like a chore."

"Is that why you left?" Dustpaw hissed. "Or maybe they drove you out because you're such an awful elder."

He'd hit a nerve; Yellowfang flattened her ears against her head and hissed. Without giving her a chance to reply he whipped around and stalked away, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at getting in the last word.

Later that night, Dustpaw was resting by the tree stump. His eyes were drooping when Yellowfang's piercing yowl jerked him out of his slumber. Bristling, Dustpaw stomped over to the fallen tree trunk. "What now?" he spat. He'd made her poultice, removed her ticks, and caught her enough prey to last until next sunrise. What could she even want?

Yellowfang slitted her orange eyes at him. "What, did you think I said something?"

Snorting, Dustpaw padded away. She would pay for that.

He was almost asleep when Yellowfang's grating caterwaul startled him awake.

"You woke me up!" he snarled furiously.

"But a young cat like you shouldn't need naps." Yellowfang's eyes held a mischievous glint. "Besides, I'm hungry now."

"Get something from the fresh-kill pile."

"I can't. It's empty."

"I just caught you food," Dustpaw argued. "Have Sandpaw or Graypaw do it; they're in camp."

"Nah. They'll take until after sunset." Yellowfang shook her head dismissively. "You do it." Rolling his eyes, Dustpaw began to trot away. If he was quick he could be back before the sun moved a whisker. "A blackbird would be nice," Yellowfang called out after him. Dustpaw gritted his teeth. He should never have even considered catching whatever prey she wanted before. It had proven his hunting ability, but now if he didn't catch her preferred prey she'd insult his hunting skills. At least blackbirds are easy to find, Dustpaw told himself.

Several sunrises later, Dustpaw woke up early and decided to get a start on his obligatory care of Yellowfang for the day. He hoped he wouldn't be stuck in camp with her; it was tiring enough having to talk with her when he gave her prey, or so he told himself.

He hunted for Yellowfang most mornings now. Much of the time she asked for specific prey, and most of the time Dustpaw provided it.

"How about some squirrels today?" Yellowfang mewed, resting her head on her paws.

Dustpaw rolled his eyes. "Why do you always think I'm taking requests?"

"But you catch them, don't you?" Yellowfang replied, a teasing gleam in her eye.

"Fine. A squirrel."

"And make sure it's a fat one!" Yellowfang called after him. Dustpaw growled under his breath as he left, catching sight of Bluestar watching his exchange with Yellowfang. She wasn't going to tell him off for disrespecting Yellowfang, was she? But Bluestar only gave him the smallest of nods, and then she slipped away.

He wasn't truly angry now; he told himself it was because Bluestar had taken notice of the extra responsibilities he had taken upon himself in hunting for Yellowfang. It was most certainly not because he enjoyed arguing with the rogue; that would make no sense.

Dustpaw came back later that day, and Sandpaw leaped to her paws as he approached. "Thank StarClan you're back! That flea bag is impossible to deal with. She keeps yowling about being hungry. I tried to give her prey from the fresh-kill pile, but apparently that wasn't good enough for her!" Dustpaw sighed. "She told me to buzz off! The nerve!"

"Yeah," Dustpaw meowed evasively.

Dustpaw flicked his ears. Brackenkit and Swiftkit were playing Clan leader again. "Feel my teeth, Brokenstar!" yowled the small ginger tabby, pouncing onto Swiftkit's back. The kits squealed as they rolled toward the Highrock. Swiftkit threw Brackenkit from his back in a sudden movement, and the small ginger tom crashed into Yellowfang's side.

Yellowfang leaped to her paws, bristling. "Stay away from me, you scrap of fur!"

Brackenkit raced away and hid behind Speckletail, who was glaring at Yellowfang, while Swiftkit followed him more cautiously, his eyes still fixed on Yellowfang as if he expected her to attack.

Dustpaw bounded to Yellowfang's side; the she-cat was still watching the kits with an expression of hate. "What is the matter with you?" he hissed. "Do you want to get kicked out of ThunderClan?" After he asked the question, Dustpaw realized that he wasn't so sure he wanted that to happen anymore. Because having a rogue around is a change of pace, he told himself. Not that I would actually care if she left.

"Just keep the kits away from me!" Yellowfang snarled. Dustpaw blinked. He had never heard her so agitated.

The next night as the full moon began to rise, Dustpaw had settled himself next to Yellowfang after a long day of training. The gray she-cat's eyes were narrowed in confusion. "Does your leader pick which cats attend the Gathering based on who she sees first on the night of the full moon? Is that why every cat is waiting by the entrance to her den?"

Dustpaw shook his head in amusement. It was true- a lot of cats were waiting at the center of the clearing for Bluestar to make the announcement. "Not usually."

"They're very eager," Yellowfang commented.

"They should be!" Dustpaw pointed out with a flick of his tail. "This Gathering could be the most important one the Clans have seen in seasons. WindClan is gone and only StarClan knows what ShadowClan is up to."

Dustpaw noticed Ravenpaw staring at them, his white tipped tail twitching nervously. Yellowfang followed Dustpaw's gaze. "What are you looking at?" she growled, and the skinny black tom slithered behind Sandpaw and Graypaw. "But you're right. This will be an important Gathering." Yellowfang's expression darkened as she shifted her paws.

"Yellowfang," Dustpaw began seriously. "You're of ShadowClan-"

"Was." Yellowfang corrected him instantly. "I hunt alone now."

You don't hunt at all! Dustpaw pushed back his retort and kept going. "So maybe you know what is going on. Why would Brokenstar want WindClan's land?"

"I may not be a member of ShadowClan anymore," Yellowfang meowed. "But I will not betray its secrets."

Dustpaw snorted. "You know, it's rather odd how evasive you've been about how you left your supposed former Clan. If you have truly made the break from ShadowClan, giving ThunderClan some insight might help you."

"I don't need help." Yellowfang glanced at the ground, giving Dustpaw a fleeting impression of a stubborn kit.

"You nearly clawed the ears off a pair of kits," he pointed out. "A lot of cats think you're a danger to them. It wouldn't take a whole lot to turn the Clan against you, and a lot of cats think you're spying for ShadowClan."

"What do you think?" Yellowfang asked, narrowing her eyes.

Their conversation was interrupted by Sandpaw's yowl. "Dustpaw, come over here! Bluestar is going to announce the attendees for the Gathering any time now."

"I'll talk to you later," Dustpaw meowed, flicking his tail in irritation. He had been about to convince her to spill her secrets, but the crowd of cats were pushing all around them now. He'd ask her tomorrow.

But still her question bothered him. Maybe I trust her, and maybe I don't, but why do I even care?

It was dark when a familiar screech hit Dustpaw's ears. Yellowfang! He leaped to his paws and bolted out of the apprentices' den.

Shock flowed through his pelt. Yellowfang was lying on the ground by the Highrock, and Tigerclaw, Darkstripe, and many other cats were hissing insults at her.

He bounded across the camp to Yellowfang's side, and when he got closer his hackles rose as he saw her fur was covered in sand and grit. They must have dragged her halfway across the camp! Dustpaw watched as the cats continued to snarl at Yellowfang, unsure how he'd react if they leaped at her. "What are you doing?!" he yowled, pushing his way to the front.

Darkstripe looked as though he had been about to answer him before Frostfur appeared at his shoulder. "We got back in time," the white she-cat panted. "The kits are safe."

Bluestar, who was standing at the front of the gathered cats, lashed her tail. "Of course they are!" Dustpaw tried to catch Yellowfang's eyes.

"But. . ." Frostfur sounded confused. "You are going to throw Yellowfang out, aren't you?" Dustpaw continued to look at the elderly she-cat, but Yellowfang avoided his gaze.

"Throw her out? We should kill her now!" Darkstripe snarled. Dustpaw looked back and forth between his mentor and Yellowfang as cats began to yowl their support.

"What? Kill Yellowfang?!" Dustpaw felt his fur bristle in horror. "What in the name of StarClan happened at this Gathering?"

"Brokenstar said one of their cats left ShadowClan to live as a rogue!" Darkstripe called out.

"He said she was a danger to kits!" Longtail put in.

"So it must be Yellowfang!" Speckletail finished. Dustpaw fought his rising horror as the cats formed a loose circle around Yellowfang and began to advance toward her, their claws unsheathed. He couldn't defend Yellowfang against so many cats!

"Stop!" Bluestar yowled. She leaped over the crowd of cats to block the way to Yellowfang, and the cats who had been advancing on the elderly she-cat froze. "Did you not hear me before?! You are not to attack this cat!"

Finally, Speckletail dared to speak: "But, Bluestar, she must have been the cat Brokenstar was speaking of . . ."

"And how do we know that?" Bluestar's meow was slow and deliberate. She closed her eyes and flattened her fur; she seemed to be trying to calm herself. "He did not mention her by name. She has done nothing wrong. And as long as Yellowfang is in my Clan, she will not be harmed in any way." She rested her warning gaze on each of the attacking cats. Dustpaw breathed out in relief.

Yellowfang's mew broke through the silence. "I can leave, Bluestar. This Clan has done enough for me." Dustpaw bolted upright, ready to protest. It didn't make sense for her to leave; there was no proof of her doing anything.

"No," Bluestar meowed. "You have done nothing wrong. We cannot allow the ramblings of a treacherous ShadowClan leader to make decisions for ThunderClan." Murmurs of agreement rippled through the camp. "Now," she meowed as she leaped back up onto the Highrock, "we must discuss the real threat to our Clan: Brokenstar. We have already been preparing for an attack by ShadowClan by reinforcing the camp. In addition to those preparations, we will patrol our borders more frequently. ShadowClan has driven out WindClan, and has intimidated RiverClan into giving up its own prey." Her eyes gained a steely glint. "ThunderClan will not give in so easily." Defiant yowls began to spread through the camp. Dustpaw's attention was entirely on Yellowfang; the old she-cat was staring straight ahead.

Sandpaw's voice cried above the rest. "If ShadowClan wants our territory, they'll have to fight us for it first!" The cats of ThunderClan caterwauled as one in response to her cry.

"I will travel to the Moonstone tomorrow," Bluestar meowed once the caterwauls died down. "StarClan will give me the strength I need to lead ThunderClan through this dark time. Lionheart, I wish to speak with you." She leaped down from the Highrock and beckoned the golden tabby deputy to join her.

Dustpaw was still shocked silent as the cats began to return to their dens. Soon he was left alone with Yellowfang at the center of the clearing. He turned to her, trying to decide what to say. "Did they aggravate your injury?" he finally meowed.

Yellowfang narrowed her eyes. "How touching that you care," she drawled.

"I don't," Dustpaw meowed hastily. "I just wanted to know if I was going to have to carry you back to your den, that's all."

"I'll be fine, Voleleg." Yellowfang gave him an unreadable look, and then rose to her paws. She turned her head back to Dustpaw as she began to limp back to the fallen oak. "Just get me some poppy seeds so I can sleep tonight."

When Dustpaw showed up with a leaf wrap filled with poppy seeds, Yellowfang seemed unusually subdued. "Brokenstar kept his promise," she meowed, looking down at the tiny seeds.

Dustpaw scowled. "What promise?"

"To drive me from every Clan territory." She let out a wordless hiss.

Shaking his head, Dustpaw felt his tail thrash. "Well, you don't need to worry about getting exiled from ThunderClan. Bluestar clearly won't let that happen even if half the Clan hates you." He blinked, wondering which half he'd sort himself into.

"It's only a matter of time," Yellowfang growled, examining her paws. She was silent for a few heartbeats. "I can't ask Bluestar to keep sheltering me if it will cause ThunderClan to be attacked. Brokenstar will stop at nothing to get what he wants."

Dustpaw shook his head again. "Bluestar chose to stand up to Brokenstar. Besides, you have to stay; how will you survive without the cat who can provide you with the best prey selection?" he pointed out wryly. "I very well can't leave ThunderClan just to make sure you won't starve."

"Bah!" Yellowfang snorted. She bent to lick up her poppy seeds. "I can hunt." As the poppy seeds took effect, she lowered her head to her paws. "But I'm too old to run anymore."

Later that night when he returned to the apprentices' den, Sandpaw was still talking about Yellowfang's supposed attack on the kits. "Good thing there were other cats around or those kits would have been in trouble," she muttered.

Dustpaw grunted in response. His mind was whirling with all he'd been told about the Gathering.

"What's the matter with you?" Sandpaw lashed her tail and glared at him. "She could have hurt those kits and you don't even care."

"No!" Dustpaw burst out. "I don't think..." He paused to gain control of his mew. "I highly doubt Yellowfang is dangerous."

"What?!" Sandpaw tilted her head incredulously. "Didn't you see what she did? The kits were terrified!"

Dustpaw snorted. "The kits should have watched where they were going."

Grumbling, Sandpaw turned around so she faced away from Dustpaw. He snorted irritably. As unfavorable as Yellowfang looked to the Clan, in the back of his mind he knew she wasn't a murderer.

The next morning Dustpaw woke up to find Graypaw and Ravenpaw gone. "Didn't you hear?" Sandpaw meowed when he asked. "Bluestar and Tigerclaw took them along to the Moonstone." Dustpaw felt a prickle of envy. Traveling to Highstones was a huge honor.

He spent the next day patrolling and hunting, and much of the next as well. It was late in the evening on the second day, and Bluestar and the rest of the patrol should have been back by now. Cats were starting to worry.

Dustpaw was just about to leave the camp to go hunting when Lionheart raised his head to the sky. "ThunderClan! Enemies! Attack!"

Even as Lionheart yowled his battle cry, ShadowClan warriors streamed into the camp.

"Fall back! Defend the elders and kits!"

The battle raged for what seemed like moons. Dustpaw was slashing at a small black tom when a familiar smell hit the roof of his mouth. Ravenpaw and Graypaw were back, and not far behind them, Bluestar and Tigerclaw.

Dustpaw was only vaguely aware of his actions as the fighting went on, jabbing and slashing out of pure instinct.

Ravenpaw's high pitched shriek split the air. "The kits! The kits are in danger!"

Dustpaw whipped around and began to shove his way through the throng of fighting cats. A large white tom with black paws was racing away from the battle, and Dustpaw noticed Rosetail lying dead. His heart dropped, although he didn't pause in his attempts to reach the nursery. Rosetail had been guarding the kits and with her dead... Dustpaw shoved his way past Rosetail and into the nursery.

He nearly stumbled in surprise. "Yellowfang?" Yellowfang was crouching protectively over the kits. One of her eyes was nearly swollen shut, and blood smeared her tangled gray fur.

"It's okay!" she yowled. "I'll protect them!" Dustpaw stared at her in shock. She had already fought off one of her former Clanmates, and was shielding the kits from the battle with her own body. "Do you trust me?" she hissed.

Dustpaw met her defiant gaze, and in that single heartbeat realized his answer. "I do." With one last look, he hurtled out of the nursery and back into the battle. "It's okay!" he yowled back to Ravenpaw. "Yellowfang's protecting them!" He didn't understand why he trusted the old mange pelt, but somehow after all this time, he did.

Before he knew what was happening, ShadowClan cats began to flee. One by one they sped away, some through the gorse tunnel, while others squeezed through the camp's bramble wall. Dustpaw felt a vicious flicker of satisfaction at the fact that the ShadowClan cats would be nursing wounds from thorns as well as claws. Finally, Whitestorm and Speckletail chased the last remaining warriors out of the camp and the clearing fell silent.

He breathed out. Something was wrong.

His heart dropped when he heard a shrill cry from beside the Highrock.

Lionheart's death cast a pall over ThunderClan's victory. It brought the memories of Redtail's death flowing back to Dustpaw all over again.

When Tigerclaw had been named deputy, Dustpaw had felt hope rise in his chest. Tigerclaw was a powerful and respected warrior; he would give the Clan confidence in this time of need.

Soon Bluestar's voice rang out once again, for another Clan meeting. Now Tigerclaw stood with her as he announced that he would be appointing bodyguards to keep watch over Bluestar at all times. Dustpaw nodded as the dark tabby spoke; it was a good idea- one that might be needed if ShadowClan decided to attack again.

"Thank you, Tigerclaw, for your loyalty." Bluestar now spoke from beside Tigerclaw. "In spite of these precautions, the Clan must understand that I am still here for them. No cat should hesitate to approach me, and I am happy to speak to anyone with or without my bodyguards. As the warrior code says, the safety of the Clan is more important than the security of any single member." She glanced at Tigerclaw, and then turned to back to the rest of the crowd. "And now, I wish to recognize one cat."

Dustpaw shared a confused glance with Sandpaw as Bluestar continued. "Yellowfang has lived among us for some time now." Dustpaw's heart leaped. He had not been expecting that! "Our apprentices were tasked with caring for her, and I have seen the changes in them, and how it has affected their development as warriors. I think a few may have even grown to consider her a friend." Bluestar paused and shot a kindly glance at Dustpaw.

The whole Clan followed Bluestar's gaze and was now staring at him. Dustpaw felt the fur on his shoulders begin to rise. "What are you looking at me for?" he meowed defensively.

"Yellowfang has taught our apprentices the importance of caring for our elders," Bluestar continued. "But additionally, she has fought for us. In the battle last night, she sheltered near the fallen oak at first. However, after Rosetail died, she didn't hesitate to take her place, protecting the kits as though they were her Clanmates."

Dustpaw nodded, recalling Yellowfang's bravery. He didn't hear the murmuring rippling through the camp. Could this really be happening? Was Bluestar going to offer Yellowfang a place in ThunderClan? "Yellowfang, you proved your loyalty with your actions last night. If you wish it, we would welcome you as a full member of ThunderClan."

Yellowfang's gaze swept around the clearing, briefly resting on Dustpaw before turning up to the ThunderClan leader. "I am honored, Bluestar, and I accept your offer."

Bluestar nodded. "Good."

Dustpaw fought the urge to cheer. He knew he was in the minority of cats who were happy with Yellowfang's newest position, but he couldn't stop his tail from giving a satisfied flick. He was pleased that Yellowfang was joining ThunderClan, but there was no way in StarClan he was ever going to admit it.

Dustpaw was on his way to the apprentices' den a little while after the Clan meeting when Yellowfang waved him over with her tail.

"I was thinking," Yellowfang meowed, a sly expression working its way across her muzzle, "I'll need something good for breakfast tomorrow in honor of my new Clan membership. You could fetch me some prey."

Instead of leaving, he sat down beside her. "You're a ThunderClan cat now." Dustpaw rested his head on his paws, still dazed by the turn of events. "You can have any apprentice do it, and they'd have to listen since you're an elder."

"Nah. They'd find some gristly old thing. Remember when Sandpaw brought me that shrew and tried to pass it off as a full day's meal?" Yellowfang scowled. "And besides, you need to keep up with your warrior training. As Bluestar pointed out, your hunting skills have improved greatly since I showed up and you haven't given me a single thank you." Her whiskers twitched.

"Oh, please." Dustpaw snorted. "You can't seriously give yourself the credit for that." Sighing, Dustpaw looked away. Yellowfang was giving him an imploring stare, begging him to hunt for her. "You know what? Fine. I give in. I'll catch you something."

Yellowfang sank to her haunches. "That was almost too easy."

Dustpaw rolled his eyes. "Any requests?"

Yellowfang watched him for a long moment. "Hunter's choice." Dustpaw's ears flicked in surprise, while Yellowfang curled her tail around her paws. "Well, I'm going back to sleep," she mewed. "I'll need to be up bright and early tomorrow for my meal."

Stifling a yawn, Dustpaw rose to his paws and stretched. " 'Night, Yellowfang."

Yellowfang gave him a thoughtful look. "Goodnight, Dustpaw."