A/N: Alright so I've thought about this for a long time and I want to give it a shot so, here goes. I know this is rather abrupt, but I do plan on going on a hiatus for the month of July. I want to see how it is for me to focus an entire month on my original story that I'm writing alongside fanfiction. I'm nervous because whenever I went on a hiatus in the past with my past stories (I don't think I've gone on a very long hiatus for this story, just that some chapters came out a week late but that's all. This one's official), anyway; on my past stories, were I to go on a hiatus for whatever reason to focus on a different story or whatnot, I always inevitably end up abandoning it. I don't want to do that for this story, cause I really love it and I love you guys too.

But I want to give it a go and seriously focus on my original story, and to do that, I have decided to go on at least a month-long hiatus (it was originally gonna be the whole Summer, but I've decided only a month for now).

So, this will be the last chapter updated until, give or take, August 7th. I hope you guys can understand my decision and are okay with waiting for me to return. For those of you who won't wait and will leave, I understand and I just wanna say thanks for reading :). For those of you prepared to wait though…

I'll be back :).

Until then, enjoy the chapter!

Reviews

silhouette amongst stars- World's on fire, hooray! This has just been a great year overall, eh? Turns out, I got a B (who would've thunk). Well, I kinda know what it's like to have people poke fun at my name for two different reasons. My first name is named after a month, and whenever I introduce myself, everybody always asks if I was born in that month (which I wasn't, so I have no idea why my parents named me that but whatever). And secondly, my last name is hyphenated and one part of the hyphen is "Can." I'm a decently smart person and in school I did good and people were always like: you Can do this! It's funny at first, but when the vice principal says it in front of the entire school, not so funny XD. Anywho, story. Yeah, I'm just putting the stakes even higher now. Suspiciously heartwarming XD That's every instance of fluff in this story, trust no one. I would kill to see that kind of intro lol. It did, it did. Gotta love those sharp, dark turns. You were right! Hmm, I can't draw, I can't paint either, for some reason I haven't been reading the books I do have- just fanfiction- and I don't know where the nearest woods are for me, so can't do that XD.

Isdrin The Wanderer- Don't normally answer reviews from early chapters, but this one was funny XD. Yes, there are times I wish our Flarekitty would go on a massacre too.

Lightningfall263 (Guest)- They are, the ones here are just a cameo/homage to it. It's not actually them XD My stories aren't all in the same universe like that, sadly.

SavvySpirit- Yeah, poor raindrop. Not poor Sora, he had it coming. I mean, I can certainly try to save him XD. That's true, that's true. Blueberry is… gonna have a fun time, sure. Pwease don't kill me :).

Hailstrike- Yeah, they definitely were not expecting that. The Fang's are characters from one of my old stories, but I do have to say that they are a teensy bit different from how they act from there. Oh, they were definitely waiting to get back at King.

Snailpaw (Guest)- Oh… wow. 65 cats. That's a whole lot XD, I don't think I'd be able to draw all of that. Rainpaw did it! Hooray, three cheers for her! Oh, yeah that haha. Well, you see, imma let you in on a little secret and say I definitely forgot that cats become warriors- and not apprentices- at 12 moons so uhh… I kinda forgot that. My mistake, but there was no changing that, so in here, High Ranks become apprentices at 10 moons, Low Ranks become an apprentice at 12 moons: Low Ranks become warriors at 16 moons (I think I said) and High Ranks become warriors at 18 moons (or those might be switched, I should probably make note of that somewhere XD). Don't worry, our cast will definitely become warriors soon (some sooner than others), but yeah I have been lagging on that a bit. Sorry. A stick… stuck in… your leg? Wow, that is talent right there XD. Happy times!

Thanks to everybody who reviewed!

Let's get started!

Blazeclan

Flarepaw thought it would get easier, coming in here every single day (by order of the Grand Royal).

But every time she came in here, it only got worse and worse and worse and she wondered just how far this living nightmare was going to go. The darkness and shadows of the Prisoner's Den only grew dimmer, more twisted, and for half a second on multiple occasions, she could fool herself into believing that they were coming to life. The souls of those who had the misfortune to depart in this dirty and dusty hole underground were given a momentary life force that fed off of Flarepaw's own dark and twisting emotions.

She could feel them all, leering at her- lifeless eyes judgemental and, and staring...

Her heart was a quivering mess of nerves and her mind didn't fare any better, thoughts swarming and coiling and there was a pressure in her chest that tightened with the threat of breaking her in half. For half a second, she thought she would have deserved it- breaking in half. Finally snapping to the point of no return where not even dust remained.

When those ghostly blue eyes stared at her from a ghastly white face, it only made those sensations worse. No matter who was in the room, no matter if Tigergaze was doing his damndest to capture the prisoner's attention in the form of tearing apart her pelt piece by tortuous piece, inch by agonizing inch- no matter if Redstar was talking in his authoritative, yet somehow still melancholic tone, no matter if Flarepaw continuously looked away and stood at the farthest point, waiting patiently for dismissal so she could just turn and step out immediately… Frost would always stare at her.

With hope, with anger, with desperation, with mockery, with reverence… Flarepaw didn't know which one she hated most. She could handle the anger, the mockery too. The hope was harder to deal with, and the reverence was impossible because it consistently reminded her that even if she wasn't him, she still looked like this mysterious King. Looked like him enough for someone like Frost to silently beg her to interfere on his behalf.

She wouldn't, she thought she made that very clear by standing beside Emberpaw throughout all of this and keeping her eyes on a fixed point on the wall of the den. Currently, she was staring at a single root, shriveled and dying but still fighting and crawling upwards along the wall in the desperate battle to reach the surface and escape the darkness. A valiant effort.

"I ask you this again, Frost," Redstar spoke from off to the side, eyes tired and just the slightest bit lit with an irritation of some sort. Something about that look appeared so familiar, an image blurry in her mind's eye, but it was a ghost that she didn't have the pleasure of focusing on. No, the ghost she had to focus on was still staring straight at her, blue eyes holding an exhaustion of their own. But stubborn, oh so stubborn. "What does this King want with the clans?"

It was an endless cycle of questions left unanswered, an entire list already crafted mentally in her mind. Should Frost remain silent, which she always did, Redstar will then ask who is King, and then he will ask questions about the rogue's home and all of them will be left pending and she and her clanmates will be left frustrated and Frost will be left on the brink of passing out from blood loss. An endless cycle that was a routine she wished they would break out of.

Flarepaw took in a deep, stuttering breath, as if her lungs, too, forgot how to function in this tense atmosphere and were refusing to cooperate so she could have an excuse to leave early. Her stomach was in knots and the Grand Royal apprentice knew she wouldn't be able to eat anything until later tonight, if at all for today. Watching a prisoner get tortured killed appetite quicker than they were trying to kill Frost.

Again, Frost remained silent, only wincing when Tigergaze let out a harsh grunt and, there- a scar that had been rapidly trying to heal screamed in disappointment when it was reopened, never allowed to close. The rogue's once beautiful white pelt was now blended with shades of red; a deep scarlet here, a dried rust there, a burnished crimson over there. Flarepaw didn't know blood could come in so many shades.

What she did know was that she didn't want to know that so intimately.

Too late though.

"Frost, I do not wish to start depriving you of meals," the Grand Royal let out a long sigh, riddled with exhaustion that seeped deep into his bones, dragged on his worn pelt. Behind him, Roseberry's lips pulled into a small frown, dark blue eyes that bled into an indigo glimmering with concern over her leader. Flarepaw would have mirrored her if she didn't want to get out of here. "I do hold some mercy over my captives, but if-"

The leader was cut off by Frost suddenly cackling aloud, and for a heartbeat, Flarepaw thought the rogue had finally gone insane and everyone else was quiet. The fur along her spine raised, muscles tightening and loosening as if they were inhaling and exhaling like her lungs were supposed to be doing in preparation for something. A break in routine, while unexpected, wasn't entirely unwelcome and this sudden change made Flarepaw relax for a moment long enough for her to finally draw in a breath.

There.

Now she felt more alive.

"Mercy?" Frost growled through her laughter, something Flarepaw didn't know was entirely possible. Spit flew from her mouth, fangs bared and blue eyes finally drifted away from the Grand Royal apprentice to glare Death into Redstar's veins.

"You want to say you have mercy when I know this one's claws like I know my own?" She gestured to a stunned Tigergaze.

"You want to say you have mercy when all you have done is try and break me into pieces? You want to say you have mercy?! Look at me!" She jerked her head at her own pelt, movements desperate and harsh and Flarepaw thought she heard a small crack. "Red is not my pelt color, yet this is the only color I see on myself now."

Frost was panting, breaths drawn sharply enough to cut the inside of her mouth and throat and chest and exhaled just as forcefully. Tigergaze hovered by her, unsure of what to do because prisoners normally didn't have enough fight left in them at this point to snap like that. Amber eyes flicked almost nervously toward Redstar, waiting for answers and orders because he sure didn't have them himself.

Once again, those blue eyes- more alive now than dead and lit with a hungry flame that wanted to consume Flarepaw whole- turned sharply towards the apprentice. She flinched despite herself.

"How's that for mercy?"

Flarepaw felt like shriveling up into a ball, cowering beneath that gaze of desperate insanity.

But there was Wildfire, ever her hero.

"If you expect sympathy, you're sorely mistaken, filth." Wildfire sniffed, padding forward from where he had been sitting quietly this entire time right beside Roseberry. His dark amber eyes burned with a fire of their own, gleaming with a malicious look that only Flarepaw was used to seeing. Her heart immediately jumped to her throat, choking her, but she could do nothing as her father sauntered, stalked towards the rogue already in position for him. Flarepaw knew what was going to happen before it was going to happen.

The temporary lead Royal brushed past his leader, shooting him a gaze that was less asking for permission and more demanding Redstar to step aside. Clearly, Wildfire was as done with these long days of interrogation as the rest of them. His temper could only hold out for so long, it was a miracle it had lasted as much as it did.

Tigergaze, in earnest, stepped away too, bowing his head and presenting Wildfire's target with a flourish before joining the back of the group. Flarepaw's pulse fluttered at her neck, her blood roaring in her ears, and she couldn't hear when Emberpaw- noticing her companion's silent and frightened breaths- asked if she was okay.

"My leader may not be so inclined to hurt others," Wildfire cast a judgemental glance over his shoulder, teeth flashing for half a second before he turned his gaze back to Frost. For her part, the rogue, perhaps unaware of the threat before her now, only gave a fiery glare in response to his approach. "Such is the code of a gentle tom."

Alas, he had arrived within distance, and like she was watching her own life through an outsider's lens, Flarepaw was the only one who knew what was coming. Disaster waiting to strike; a blazing fire surrounding her and burning her home to ashes with no remorse, a blizzard stripping her of her family even more and only serving to further isolate her… a father punishing her for her shortcomings.

"I have no such codes or morals," Wildfire's voice was a deep grumble, grating against her nerves with the slow slickness of pure ice sliding down her spine. Raspy with anticipation, riddled with a lust for destruction that only Flarepaw knew he had. The rest of the clan was blind, she was convinced. "Not for a rat."

And with that, with the final word halfway clinging to the inside of his mouth and the rest of it jumping into the open air in a free fall, Wildfire leaped. Flarepaw flinched in the same way Frost had, perhaps not expecting the unexpectedness of it all, with the back of the rogue's head cracking against the stone floor. Flarepaw was half-surprised it hadn't been enough to knock her unconscious right then and there… It would have been better to have been unconscious since what was coming was only so much worse.

Being unconscious would have been a mercy.

Even though Flarepaw was expecting it, she still flinched when Frost let out a wail of pain that was cut short by Wildfire's paw pressing directly on her throat, silencing her with an efficiency that came from doing this so many times. Yes, Flarepaw was familiar with this…

She just wasn't familiar with being the witness instead of the victim. (That was Flamepaw's role, he had always been the witness, and she had always been there, trapped beneath their father's claws.)

"I've bitten my tongue enough times these past few days," Wildfire spoke, even as Frost did struggle against him, her efforts only served to make his claws dig deeper and deeper and deeper into her underbelly. Flarepaw almost wanted to give her some advice to weather the storm ahead of her. "I'm tired of tasting copper, and I'm tired of a rat acting so high and mighty, thinking that they are the ones in control. Let this be a reminder of who is in charge here."

Ever deeper his claws pressed in, clenching and unclenching, and when his second paw removed itself from Frost's throat and joined its twin at her belly, Flarepaw felt herself squirming too. Memories flashed across her vision, the dark shadows taunting her with them, and the scars along her underbelly burned to life, each one itching and pulled taut with the threat to open and spill her blood too along the dirty ground of the Prisoner's Den.

Her back pressed uncomfortably against the undergrowth of the forest that was meant to protect her, a thorn or two piercing her skin in a way that was a thousand times gentler than her own father's claws had.

Frost was trying to squirm away from her father's claws, the cold stone ground preventing her from escaping and trapping her there to face punishment.

Flarepaw couldn't breathe either.

The searing heat across her stomach was what she imagined the "fire" of Blazeclan that everyone talked about given life. It consumed her, slowly and quickly all at once, and she wondered if this is what dying felt like.

The blood bubbling in desperation to close the ever-increasing wounds on Frost's belly was warm, dark scarlet and deep crimson all at once and Flarepaw knew what it was like to feel yourself bleeding and not being able to do anything about it because every subtle movement would only make it worse.

Frost tried to hold her breath because breathing would move her stomach and flanks and by this point, she'd prefer suffocation.

Out of the corner of her teary silver eyes, she could just barely make out her brother's form. Sitting, watching, paws shuffling and his gaze one of pity and apology. She never hated her brother a single day in her life, but in those moments, she remembered wishing they could swap places for once. To watch him beneath Wildfire's paws and for her to sit a distance away… Safe.

Her jaw creaked with the pressure she clenched her teeth when Frost turned agonized blue eyes in her direction, screaming with a silent plea even as a shout clogged itself in her throat. (She was a fast learner- Flarepaw would have still been whimpering by now, but Frost was silent, save for the occasional grunt and groan.)

Still, her eyes… Flarepaw would never forget the look in them.

"Save me," they yelled into the abyss of liquid silver, and Flarepaw, regretfully, glanced away.

She didn't know how long it usually lasted. Some days, it felt longer than others. Some days, Wildfire would simply rip his claws out of her and waltz away and she would be left lying on her back and gasping for air because she was finally able to breathe again. She would always wonder if he would return. Some days, Wildfire released her slowly, claws dragging out of her skin, hooking at parts that he freed himself with a not-so-subtle jerking motion. Those days held the promise of more in the future, a threat louder than Wildfire's words always were. Some days, her father would take his claws out of her, but he would still hover on top of her, breath hot against her face as he lectured her, ivory tips still pressed lightly against tattered skin.

He always stopped though, and Flamepaw was always there afterward to help her clean up and to whisper apology after apology each and every time.

Frost's movements were slowing down, turning sluggish, and she was gasping for air. Flarepaw knew something was wrong, and Wildfire…

Wildfire wasn't pulling back…

He's going to kill her, a cold chill passed through Flarepaw's body, a small tremble immediately freezing up as her ears perked up. He's going to kill her if he doesn't pull away now.

He wasn't pulling back…

Frost turned blue eyes back to Flarepaw, and the amber-furred apprentice could see them beginning to glaze over, black pupils dilating ever-so-slowly. He's going to kill her if nobody stops him.

Roseberry was perhaps the only other one who noticed this fact, Flarepaw could see the Medicine Cat slowly stand up from her spot, sharp words prepared to strike and sitting patiently on her tongue. Flarepaw didn't know what was stopping Roseberry from talking though, perhaps it was fear.

Tigergaze was content with watching it all unravel, blissfully unaware of anything, and perhaps even taking a few mental notes. (Flarepaw shuddered at that thought. She hoped Tigergaze wouldn't torture anyone as Wildfire did… the brute was far too eager and messy for something that required critical finesse.)

Emberpaw was looking with a wrinkled nose, the smell of the room getting to her more than anything else. Her gaze was far away though, as if she was on another plane of existence entirely. Flarepaw didn't blame her.

And Redstar…

Redstar couldn't even bring himself to watch it happen.

Silver eyes found blue once more, and Flarepaw could just barely see Frost's lips moving with a quiet, "please."

The muscles in her body coiled, a snake prepared to spring into action, but she hesitated.

She had always been the victim and not the witness in these cases. Flamepaw had always been the onlooker, and there was a rule he followed just like Flarepaw had rules to follow when she was placed on the chopping block and forced to die and revive herself over and over again. (Her soul had died countless times, she had lost track of what life she was on now.)

Flamepaw's one rule was: never directly interfere.

It put him at risk, and only seemed to make things worse for her. He would subtly interfere, trying to drag their father's attention away from Flarepaw, but he had never outright pushed Wildfire aside.

Flarepaw let out an uneven breath.

Never directly interfere.

Silver eyes focused on Frost again, ghostly blue eyes still staring.

But she's dying

Flarepaw was not Flamepaw. Even if, at times of her punishment, she greatly wished she had been.

She was not Flamepaw.

Therefore…

Flamepaw's one rule didn't apply to her.

Flarepaw followed her own rules.

"Enough!" Her paws were moving her forward before her mind could fully comprehend what she was doing, before her heart could stop trying to escape from the confinements of her ribcage. Flarepaw was a few steps away, close enough she could taste the blood that she only now noticed created a puddle underneath Frost. Over his shoulder, Wildfire barely even spared her a glance, but she knew he noticed her. How?

Because his claws only sunk in deeper, he only put more weight into it.

Flarepaw hesitated for a second longer before righteous fury made her let out a hiss. Wildfire wasn't going to step away, so she was going to make him. Acting on their own accord, her claws flew as she shoved against his side with both of her paws, piercing against his ribs and his flanks and making him let out a sharp cry as he immediately tore himself away from the rogue and from her.

For a moment, his dark amber eyes turned to her, and Flarepaw was surprised with herself because she didn't freeze. He looked like he was going to attack her next, punish her for getting in the way, but somehow, Flarepaw wasn't scared.

She wasn't scared, because her attention wasn't on him for a second longer.

Silver eyes turned quickly down to Frost, the rogue not moving from her position and flanks moving shallowly. Too much blood stained her underbelly, pooling at the small indention there and spilling with slow-moving streams along her side and onto the ground.

Too much blood, too much blood, too much blood…

Too much blood for even Roseberry to save her at this point.

"No, no, no," Flarepaw stepped closer to Frost, one paw beside the rogue's head and the other tilting her chin up so blue could meet silver. "No, you don't get to die. Not when you haven't given us anything, Frost."

"My… King…" Perhaps Frost was a little delusional by now, vision blurring, and perhaps Flarepaw's similarity to him brought her comfort because even though she was dying, Frost found the strength to smile. Huh. Flarepaw couldn't remember ever seeing her smile, and it was a shame because the rogue had a pretty smile. "I'm… sorry… I've failed… you…"

"Frost-" Flarepaw didn't know why she felt like crying. Maybe it was just her frustration with everything. Maybe it was her guilt for hesitating so damn much. Her ears fell flat, eyes glancing down for a second before she clenched her teeth and blew out a ragged sigh. There was nothing she could do. Nothing Roseberry could do.

No.

There was one thing she could do.

If looking like King brought Frost comfort in her final moments, then Flarepaw would be there to guide her into the sky above.

"It's okay…" Flarepaw murmured, quiet even for her own ears. "I'm here. You can go, it's okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Frost."

"You really are…" Frost's smile turned shaky, a few tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as she closed them, "My… savior…"

Flarepaw didn't deserve to be called that.

A solemn silence settled over the den, partially in disbelief, and Flarepaw still didn't know why she felt like crying over the now-dead rogue. Black shadows shrouded her, taunting at her failure, and amidst the tortured souls of the departed, she could just barely make out Frost's blue eyes there too. They would forever continue to stare at her, it seems.

"You killed her," Flarepaw spoke through gritted teeth as she slowly turned to look at her father. Wildfire's bloodstained paws remained pressed against the ground, his expression was unreadable but not guilty at all. The she-cat turned her body to better face him, claws itching against the ground, and only now just noticing she was standing in the pool of Frost's blood. A raw fire burned at her lungs, and it erupted from her throat as she damn near shouted, "You killed her!"

"It's a rogue, Flarepaw," Wildfire let out a small scoff, "you shouldn't have sympathy for-"

"Oh, so I'm the monster for not wanting to take a life?" She stepped around Frost's body, slinking forward towards her father who only seemed to stand up straighter at her approach. "How convenient for you."

"Her life didn't matter."

"You don't get to decide that!" she hissed, tail lashing once, and she wondered for a second if anybody would stop her if she launched herself at Wildfire now. "That was our only lead and you killed her!"

"She wasn't giving us anything," Wildfire spoke in his defense, annoyed and scowling, "today's interrogation was going to end the same way as yesterday's. Tomorrow's interrogation would have ended the same as today's. Then the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that- We were wasting our time here with this one when we should have been out there looking for the rest this whole time!"

Flarepaw was going to shout again, but Redstar spoke up in that sad tone of his.

"She still could've given us something," the Grand Royal said, "your impatience got the better of you. Again."

"Don't you start," Wildfire whirled to his leader, lips pulling back with a hiss. "Don't you dare!"

"Wildfire!" Redstar barked, finally standing up from his place, but even as he stood up tall, Wildfire still matched him. "Do not. You do not want to do this."

"Oh, I think I do." And even though Flarepaw was a bit lost with what they were talking about, because it obviously wasn't about the rogue anymore, she continued to glare at the back of her father's head.

The tension in the room was as thick as the puddle of blood beneath Frost's body. Roseberry was behind her leader, dark eyes narrowed, and Emberpaw finally looked like she was paying attention to everything while Tigergaze appeared conflicted- stuck between his loyalty to his leader and his reverence for his temporary lead Royal.

"What's done is done," Redstar spoke up in a quiet voice, turning a somber gaze over to the body before he turned around. "Clean up in here. Now we focus our efforts on finding the next rogue and keeping them alive. Interrogations are over for now."

Before Flarepaw could even get a word in, Redstar was gone and so was Roseberry. Tigergaze lingered, waiting for everyone else to leave so he could drag out the body. Emberpaw looked relieved that this entire thing was over, casting questioning dark green eyes in Flarepaw's direction that Flarepaw didn't see. When her question went unanswered, Emberpaw simply shrugged before walking out of the den.

Wildfire was still staring in the direction his leader had left, a guarded expression on his face and a terrifying gleam in his eyes.

"You killed her…" Flarepaw spoke in a quiet voice, but with the silence in the den, it echoed along the walls with the wails of the dead and long forgotten. Lamented souls forever trapped here in the blackness and unable to find freedom or peace.

"She was useless." Wildfire said in place of explaining himself. His eyes turned over to her before he began walking away. "Remember your place, Flarepaw. She was a rat that had no purpose any longer. We dispose of such rats."

Flarepaw watched him leave with a simmering glare, torn between wanting to chase after him to give him a piece of her mind and show him her claws and some morbid, twisted part of her wanting to be the one to take out Frost's body.

"Umm… Grand Royal Flarepaw?" Tigergaze spoke nervously, in confusion. "I kind of have to take-"

"I'll do it," she said before she could think it through. Hardly sparing a glance in his direction, she turned around and immediately froze at the sight of the dead rogue. She swallowed thickly, nodding, and spoke more to herself than to Tigergaze as she repeated, "I'll do it."

The Royal looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Bowing his head, the tom was gone and only the shadows and the silence were there to keep her company now.

Flarepaw hesitated, just like the hesitance that got Frost killed, before padding over to the body. White fur stained permanently with red, the she-cat frowned to herself.

Normally, dead prisoners were simply tossed in a faraway point off of Blazeclan's land, left there to rot and for scavengers to feed on. For some reason, Flarepaw didn't want that for Frost.

Flarepaw decided she didn't need a reason for wanting to give the rogue a proper burial.

A proper burial required some cleaning so the body didn't look as war-torn as Frost appeared.

Sitting heavily, ignoring the way the puddle of blood felt beneath her, Flarepaw leaned forward and began the long and arduous process of cleaning Frost's body of red.

The clan had made her white pelt red, staining it with scarlet. Flarepaw wanted to fix that at least.

"My… savior…" Frost's words echoed in her ears, voice soft like a reverent prayer, hopeful and worshipping in a way Flarepaw would never understand now.

Flarepaw hadn't been expecting that. Nobody had ever called her that and…

It felt horrible.

The City

Of all things to come, Whiteshadow certainly hadn't been expecting to have the fortune to be rescued from his black fate.

Yet, like an angel with fraying wings, Rainpaw had appeared; fighting in opposition to all the odds stacked against her, even the ones she placed upon herself and managed the impossible. With the help of virtual strangers at that, Whiteshadow would be lying if he said he hadn't frozen up in pure awe and the shock of it all. She had fought with hesitance and the restraint that she normally did, but there was something else, a determination he never expected to come out of someone like her.

The determination to save him of all things and the dawning of it all had damn near brought him to tears (it kind of did bring him to tears, despite his best efforts).

She had approached, all wild fire and intensity burning in light blue eyes that were always so scared and nervous and restrained, and he had been overwhelmed with pride and the desire to pull her into a hug and never let her go. Whiteshadow had surprised himself with his emotions, but Rainpaw was special- he was finding out.

She had a curious way of worming into someone's heart and leaving a lasting scar.

The world had held its breath- or perhaps that was just him- as finally, after who knows how many days of his imprisonment, Rainpaw was within reach once again. She was right there, and she had come for him. A part of him still wanted to be furious with her for trying to leave him alone in the first place, but it was overshadowed by the sheer relief he had felt.

Relief that was immediately snuffed out when he noticed Sora leaving the crowd with the chaos as a distraction.

Relief that immediately turned to guilt when, despite knowing better and despite knowing the potential consequences, he had breathed out, "Go," and sent Rainpaw after him. Had sent Rainpaw directly into the mouth of her monster and did nothing but allow it to happen.

When normally he would try to stop her from stepping into the black abyss that was calling her name, Whiteshadow had willingly tossed her into it.

Now, Whiteshadow was both unaware of how much time had passed and too aware of how much time had passed. Every second that ticked by without Rainpaw re-emerging from the cracks in the buildings was another second he couldn't breathe. They had just been reunited, and it was he who had sent her away again.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! His mind wasn't very nice to him at the moment, and he allowed it to curse him for his mistakes. He felt like chasing after her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to find her now. Questions that had no answers plagued his thoughts, and he was mostly blind to everything happening around him. The fighting had stopped and The Fang's were busy dragging both the unconscious and dead bodies of the Guards into nearby buildings and mildly celebrating.

What if she's dying?

What if she's been caught?

What if she left again?

And worse of all…

What if she won?

Because he knew the only thing that entailed was that Sora was dead and that was another name Rainpaw would have to remember, another death she had caused and would sit upon her shoulders, and he had been the one to encourage her.

Whiteshadow, despite being riddled with new scars and blue and black bruises and limping and tired, somehow felt worse now.

It was curious how things worked out sometime.

What if she never forgives me?

He didn't know if he could live with that.

At last, at last, a figure was coming out of the shadows cast by the looming buildings, and everyone simultaneously held their breath and prepared for the worst. Everyone except Whiteshadow, because despite how short their time together had been, the tom felt as though he knew Rainpaw's shadow as well as his own.

His angel arrived with tired eyes and a pelt that was halfway through drying.

Wingless.

She had fallen from grace and he had been the one to deliver that final push, the one that didn't even try to catch her.

His eyes watered, but he didn't allow the tears to fall as the demon that had taken the place of his angel looked up at him, eyes unfocused for a second before recognition created the spark of life. Whiteshadow stared at her with a frown that was mirrored by the she-cat, but she tried so very hard to smile at him and that effort alone made the corners of his lips twitch in appreciation.

He wanted to tell her so many things, so many things, but clearly, now was not the right time.

"Mission accomplished!" A bouncing dark grey tom with one amber eye and one yellow eye appeared at the corner of his vision, bumbling forward with a too-bright smile and mischievousness bred from recklessness. "What's next, Rainy? The Fang's are your ever-loyal servants."

He gave a dramatic bow that brought some laughter from the others, a few grumbles as well, but it only seemed to make the smile on Rainpaw's face vanish into thin air as the light in her eyes dimmed some. There was something else in her gaze too, eyes tracing over the others as if contemplating whether to kill them or not too and Whiteshadow knew he had to step in. She probably wouldn't be beside killing him either, but he perhaps had the best chance to talk her out of it. He was quite the wordsmith after all.

Ignoring the small talk behind him, Whiteshadow finally remembered how to move his legs and he approached the haggard apprentice. He could not deny the caution running through his veins, but by some force of miracle or another, he had managed not to walk without hesitation (if he was slower than usual, he could blame it on his limp).

Rainpaw flinched as her eyes focused on him once again, flashing briefly for a second with something close to panic and something real ferocious before they grew sad once more and she gave her head a harsh jerk to the side. Shaking off wandering thoughts most like, but he could almost see the words clinging to her head and refusing to let go at the moment. A demon with her own demons.

"You look terrible," she spoke after a second of heavy silence, and he had never felt so glad to hear an insult. Her nose wrinkled. "And you smell."

Whiteshadow, despite himself and despite his guilt and his burdens and his apologies, let out a watery laugh before closing the distance between the two, pulling her into a fierce embrace like he had been wanting to the moment she had dropped from the sky on decaying wings. He could feel her stiffen lightly, nose pressed into his shoulder, but after a second or two, she relaxed into his hold. Despite complaining that he smelled, Rainpaw buried herself deeper against him, breaths shallow with held-in sobs that were tickling at the back of his throat too.

The world held its breath, and it wasn't just him, and the silence settling over the alley wasn't so terrible this time. A huge weight lifted from his back, his bones creaking at the free mobility now, and Whiteshadow thought he was getting too old for tensely emotional moments now.

"I've missed you," he murmured into the top of her head, a subtle purr stirring in his chest, and he was going to memorize the scent of a night after a storm for as long as he could remember. Whiteshadow hoped his own scent brought her comfort.

And though he couldn't quite understand her as she spoke against his shoulder, she imprinted the same words onto his skin and he thought that was better than actually hearing them.

Moments of peace never lasted forever, however, because a not-so-subtle clearing of someone's throat from behind him made the both of them stiffen and made her pull away abruptly. He tried not to be so disappointed at that.

A grey she-cat with black stripes and eyes as mismatched as the others stood the closest to them, a copper-furred tom at her side that was scanning his eyes across her body, meticulously looking for even the smallest of wounds with the care of a lover. Whiteshadow didn't know any of them, he couldn't remember ever seeing them from his own time in this star-forsaken place, so he only assumed that they were relatively new additions. (Of course, he questioned why they were helping Rainpaw in the first place, but the tom quickly learned not to count nor complain about his blessings. They didn't come often.)

"You two should probably get going if you wish to make it to the breakout on time," she spoke pleasantly, a crease of concern in her brow as her green and blue eyes looked Rainpaw up and down. Curious. Worried. Whiteshadow took a subtle step closer to the apprentice.

"I-" The Stormclan apprentice opened her mouth, the words catching in her throat and leaving her breathless while Whiteshadow turned his eyes to her for a second. There was confliction on her face, and something close to worry and he didn't know whether it was the good kind of worry over the lives of her temporary allies or the bad kind of worry over her own dark desires. Rainpaw's eyes squinted, almost as if she was in pain before she closed her eyes and let out a full-body sigh. Defeated, she turned her eyes up to them again before glancing shyly away. "Thank you. For everything. I couldn't… I couldn't have done it without your help."

"Don't hurt yourself now," the grey she-cat gave a cheeky smirk before giving a bow of her head. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Rainpaw. Now, The Fang's got to make ourselves scarce for a bit if we want to live to see another day to strike back against King. Until next time, farewell."

"Yeah," Rainpaw murmured, even as the others gave their own goodbyes and they all began filing out of the alley. "See ya."

It only took a matter of moments before the two of them were alone.

The silence was a little less pleasant this time, and the tom was at a loss for how to break it at the moment. Could you really blame him? He had been fully prepared to die today, and though they weren't quite in the clear yet, it wasn't a guarantee anymore. He had a chance.

Rainpaw had given him a chance.

Whiteshadow just wished he could've given her one too; instead, he had taken it away from her.

It was a surprise to him that she could control herself at the moment, and perhaps he was being a bit insensitive- treating her like a wild animal. He was adrift too, not knowing how to handle this particular situation because he had only ever seen someone who snapped going berserk with bloodlust.

Rainpaw…

Rainpaw just looked sad.

He hated not knowing how to help her, and he was too afraid to ask.

Everything started with an apology though, so with a deep breath, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Rainpaw, I-"

"We should go."

Her tone was curt and to-the-point, all business and focus and Whiteshadow would have to be a monster too to take that away from her. It appeared to be the only thing keeping her sane at the moment, focusing on their mission to escape from this horrible place.

"Right." He murmured awkwardly, shuffling his paws lightly before clearing his throat and smiling, "You're right. Let's get out of this place, huh?"

And, as if she was born and raised here, Rainpaw began walking down the alley with the assuredness of someone who had walked these streets their entire life. He watched her for a moment and was haunted by just how… comfortable she seemed to be. Like she knew these streets and alleys like the back of her paw, like she wanted to be here, like she…

Like she belonged here.

Whiteshadow let out a harsh huff of breath, giving his head a harsh shake and chastising his own ridiculous thoughts before trailing after her. Just because she looked like she knew this place so perfectly didn't mean anything.

He knew these streets and alleys too and he clearly didn't belong here any more than she did.

This place was poisoning them, they had to get out before they were tainted beyond repair.

The silence between them was less awkward, but not so pleasant either. It was a requirement, a demand their mission gave them, and he was grateful for it even as he hated it.

The lack of Guards in the streets, the lack of anybody really, didn't surprise him as much as it should have. Everyone was likely waiting patiently at the Meeting Grounds for the execution that would no longer come, unaware that their show for the day was canceled.

Whiteshadow just hoped that they wouldn't notice until Rainpaw and him were long gone.

"If Newt's home is that way…" Rainpaw was mumbling to herself, stopping for half a second on a broken piece of a fence, eyes shifting around before pausing at a seemingly moot point before moving again to the complete opposite side. With that, she was off, and Whiteshadow was left scrambling after her (it brought him slight comfort that she would occasionally glance back at him, to make sure he was still there most likely). "Then the breakout will be-"

The two turned a corner and immediately stuttered to a stop at the sight before them, diving behind the nearest wall. A handful of Guards, maybe upwards to nearing the twenty, were lounging around, complaining about having to miss the show, but that wasn't what caught their eyes.

No, what stole their breaths away was the mountain of bones making up a portion of the smooth stone wall, filling it with something to serve as a barrier- however slight- for those trying to leave so easily. Skulls and long bones and even a few spines sat in an ugly pile, the top just barely reaching the top of the wall on either side of it as well.

Whiteshadow should have been expecting it.

His own paws had added to that pile, after all, ordered by Father. Some of the bones were from prey; rats and the rare bird and even the rarer squirrels. But some of them…

A lot of them were the bones of cats.

It was meant to serve as intimidation, to discourage anyone who might even think about breaking out. It often worked better than the Guards standing there did.

But still, even with the mighty wall of past victims and haunted horrors, it wasn't enough to stop everyone completely.

"I'm surprised I didn't get us lost," Rainpaw spoke with a slight smile of amusement, and the tom didn't know if she had meant to say that out loud or not.

Whiteshadow tore his eyes away from the wall of bones, opening his mouth to respond to her, but it seemed as though everyone was trying to keep them from finally having a conversation.

"Pst!" A quiet hiss sound came from somewhere off to the side, and Rainpaw and Whiteshadow didn't know if they actually heard it or not before it came again. "Pst. Hey, Rainpaw."

The she-cat turned quickly, perhaps tricking herself into thinking that it was the sound of past ghosts, but no…

Surprise appeared in her eyes before she squinted in confusion.

"Gale?" She tilted her head, Whiteshadow furrowing his brow as well, "Gale! Wait, what are you doing here? Are you…?"

The rest of her question went unsaid, but the subtle glance she sent towards the bone mountain was more than enough to fill the silence.

Gale blinked at her for a moment, eyes following where she had looked before back again. He did a double-take before realization dawned on him and his blue-green eyes widened in something close to horror before he began rapidly shaking his head, spluttering.

"Oh! No, no! I'm not- I could never- I wouldn't-" His string of panicked half-sentences came to an abrupt stop as he let out a quiet groan, blowing out a heavy sigh and taking in a deep breath to compose himself before he was ushering them to follow him. Seeing no other reason not to, the apprentice and the Royal cautiously followed behind them as he led them around a different corner, at an angle towards the broken wall.

There, in a small and hidden clearing, a plethora of other cats were sitting around, some pacing and muttering to themselves. A few looked nervous enough to cry while others held grim determination on their faces. The ages of them ranged from someone who looked like they had just stepped out of kit-hood to someone with more grey than colored fur on their muzzle.

The realization of who they were came to Whiteshadow and Rainpaw at the same time.

Others looking to escape from here.

Amongst them, Newt made a surprise appearance, chatting up with a small group of younglings who looked just about ready to run the other direction.

"Elder and I always come here," Gale spoke quietly, not wanting to bring attention to them and not wanting to scare anyone with a loud volume, "we always do last-minute check-ups with those who want to escape. I always make sure they're in… decent enough condition to leave," he grimaced to himself before continuing, a proud gleam in his eyes as he nodded towards Newt, "and Elder always gives encouragement for those who need it and reassurance for those who think they don't."

Whiteshadow nodded along to his words, a warmth spreading in his chest for these two toms who had sacrificed so much for him and Rainpaw both. Now, it wasn't so surprising why they were willing to help so much.

They were already risking their lives all the time, it seemed. Helping others was routine for them.

"You'll all just wait for the signal," Gale muttered, a shine of something akin to reluctance appearing in his eyes as he spoke in a quieter voice, "Gl… Seven will pass by the front of the Guards, chat with a few and take some with him to lessen the numbers, and then… yeah."

Seven… So, even Glacies stuck his neck out around here.

The thought that there were so many willing to make a change to this horrible City was comforting for Whiteshadow. It gave him hope in a hopeless place.

Gale left them after a moment of silence, no doubt to do his routine checks once again, and Whiteshadow turned questioning eyes over to Rainpaw. Silently asking her where she wanted to wait.

She looked nervous, eyes flicking from one cat to the next and squinting on occasion. She was as unsure as he was and he didn't know whether or not that was a good thing.

"Hey," he spoke after a moment of her staring at everyone, drawing those light blue eyes to him. Whiteshadow gave his best comforting smile. "We're getting out of here. It might be in our best interest to get to know a few of them, no?"

"I'm… not good at making friends," Rainpaw grumbled, shuffling the weight on her paws as she glanced down at the ground. Something told him that wasn't entirely it, though, and he quickly understood.

Correction; she wasn't good at losing friends, and being acquainted with any of these other escapees would risk forging some type of bond that would always have a chance at being broken.

"Could've fooled me," he said in response because it was true. Rainpaw not only appeared comfortable with Gale and Newt but the fact that, despite saying she wasn't good at playing nice with others, she could rope an entire group of renegades to help her save him?

She fit right in with them all, and he had to constantly remind himself that that wasn't a good thing.

"It's Glacies," a nervous brown tom appeared from seemingly out of nowhere, green eyes reminding Whiteshadow of the dark color of the bushes back at home. Swallowing, the young tom repeated himself, "it's Glacies everyone. It's almost time, it's almost time!"

Without having a moment to rest, everyone began buzzing with even more nervous energy and adrenaline, and they all began scattering to where they thought it would be best to charge the wall. Some left in groups, while others wandered alone.

Gale and Newt stood back, wishing those who passed them farewell and good fortune, and soon enough, the clearing was empty.

Rainpaw and Whiteshadow stood together, eyes turned to the two toms that had saved their lives time and time again.

Whiteshadow always hated goodbyes.

And evidently, so did Newt, because he gave them a smile with missing teeth and winked his one good eye, speaking in that grumbly tone of his, "go on you two, get!"

Rainpaw let out a small laugh, and the smile that appeared on her face was the brightest it had been all day and Whiteshadow felt comforted at that. Maybe, he thought, maybe she wasn't gone completely. Maybe there was still some trace of the angel there.

"So bossy," she teased lightly, "you sure you won't miss me?"

"Keep talking like that missy and I'll blow all y'alls cover." There was a twinkle in Newt's good eye, "I've been told I'm quite loud."

Whiteshadow chuckled, turning partially away as he sent a smile over his shoulder. "Farewell, Elder. I say this with the greatest respect, but I hope I never have to see you again."

"Aye, as do I," Newt began to sober up a bit, a more somber expression crossing his features as he muttered, "as do I."

Gale just gave them a watery smile, fighting back tears and sniffling to himself, not wanting to say goodbye either.

Without another glance, Rainpaw and Whiteshadow moved through the darkness provided by the alley, saddling up at a slight angle towards the wall. It was comforting, feeling her warmth at his side, and he didn't realize he had missed it until now.

"Almost time," he whispered beneath his breath, just loud enough to be heard past the roaring of his blood in his ears. Rainpaw gave a single nod out of the corner of his eye.

Glacies was already walking away by the time they saw the wall, somehow managing to convince five Guards to go with him. Whiteshadow didn't know Glacies much, but something told him he was a sweet-talker with a tongue of silver.

Whatever the case, Whiteshadow was glad someone else was on their side too.

There was a tense silence, and the seconds that passed while they waited for the signal was tortuous.

"Can you run?" Rainpaw asked at his side, whisper-quiet with her lips barely moving. It didn't occur to him that it might have been a problem if he couldn't, but the tom merely grunted.

"I'll manage," he said because even if he couldn't run, he'd make himself run.

One could truly do the impossible in desperate situations.

Whiteshadow held his breath as the world continued breathing, the remaining Guards talking amongst themselves in a sorely unprofessional sight. They really needed to replace these Guards- though the Blazeclan tom knew their complacency was his small mercy.

And just like that, out of nowhere and so unexpected, the sudden charge of someone leaving the shadows, booking it straight towards the Guards and the wall of bones, was as much as a signal as the actual call for freedom was.

The two clan cats only hesitated for a second before darting out of their own hiding place, the sight of so many cats coming from so many different directions making some of the Guards twirl and twist in a way telling that they didn't know who to focus on, who was the biggest threat and the most important.

They didn't have time to decide, however, because soon enough, some of the escapees were on them. Those who were strong enough to fight made the ultimate sacrifice and took the grandest risk to go toe-to-toe with some of the Guards, while a few others ran straight for the wall. The pile of bones wasn't perfect, sloped in a way that one could crawl their way up, but it did succeed in slowing those on top of it down.

Whiteshadow, despite his best efforts, lost Rainpaw in the middle of the chaos, and he paused for a moment as he arrived at the wall, a piece of a jaw bone brushing against his paws before he whirled around, his eyes bouncing from body to body, pelt to pelt, and trying in vain to find the blue-grey of a Stormclan apprentice.

When he didn't find her immediately, he almost felt like shouting her name even though he knew that wasn't going to help anyone at this point. His teeth gritted together painfully and his heart felt like exploding in his chest, and just when he was beginning to lose hope, he saw her.

Rainpaw had gone from demon to angel once more for the split-second long enough it took for her to decide to save someone rather than keep going to the wall. She must have changed direction because now, she was off further to the side. She was facing one of the Guards, who was littered with scratches and bleeding from his wounds, while the youngest looking cat with shaded brown fur ran ahead of her.

The little cat must have been caught by the brute of a Guard, and Rainpaw must have seen it happen.

A noble act, and one that really, really wasn't needed at the moment.

Panic choked Whiteshadow as he saw the Guard succeed in pinning Rainpaw beneath him, large paws immediately going to her neck and the she-cat seemed to be struggling with herself just as much as she was struggling with him.

Saving the cat had been her swan song, her retribution, and Whiteshadow didn't know how to feel because it almost seemed like Rainpaw was okay with dying then and there.

No. His bruised and battered body didn't matter at the moment as he found himself charging forward.

Rainpaw may be okay with letting herself die here…

But I'm not!

Full speed, Whiteshadow tackled the Guard off of Rainpaw, sending the two tumbling and it was either a miracle or an example of his skill that he managed to send the tom flying away with a kick. Just long enough for him to stand up and keep the momentum going, turning towards the Stormclan she-cat who was gasping and coughing for air.

"Let's go!" He growled out to her, both in desperation and anger because stars he wanted to be angry at her for being okay with dying in a place like this. Later, he decided, later I'll yell at her for that.

Unfocused light blue eyes gazed at him for a moment, and amusedly, Whiteshadow spared a second to wonder what he looked like at the moment- surrounded by the chaos of writhing bodies and distressed shouts and the shifting sounds the bones made as cats climbed over it.

He must have been a vision.

"Get up, Rainpaw!" He shouted again when she still didn't move, teeth gritting together, "We have to go! Don't you want to see Windpaw again?"

The mention of her love broke something within the Stormclan apprentice, but whatever the case, Whiteshadow was glad for the destruction because it was enough to snap her out of whatever daze she was in and scramble up to her paws. He leaned down, teeth gripping her scruff for a moment and he began running even as she tried to find her balance.

Side-by-side, they leaped as high as they could onto the pile of bones, both of them losing their balance as the footholds beneath them fell apart. The bones splintered and scattered and Whiteshadow almost felt sorry for whoever was responsible for cleaning up this mess. Up and up they climbed, further and further they went, and his lungs burned, burned, burned with adrenaline and his body ached with his bruises and he- too- felt like dying right then and there.

Alas, they reached the very top of the mountain, and it was breathtaking.

The miles and miles of snow and forest had never looked so beautiful before, even with the scattered shadows of cats running this way and that.

There was noticeably a lot less than what was originally part of the group, and Whiteshadow could not bring himself to look back at whoever was still at the bottom of the pile, pinned beneath Guards or in the vice grip of Death.

The sunlight overhead was warm and filled him with an energy unlike any other. Rainpaw darted down before him, and Whiteshadow let out a harsh puff of air before doing the same.

They more slid and slipped rather than ran down the other side of the death mountain, but either way, it was effective and it was fast and the moment his paws touched cold snow rather than cold stone made him want to cry in relief. But they weren't in the clear yet, because there had been a few Watchers on the top of the walls and they were now making chase to the escapees.

Following the example of those who had managed to escape as well, Rainpaw and Whiteshadow took off in a direction that wouldn't lead them home, but the tom knew they just had to make it to the trees in the distance and everything would work itself out afterward. Even as they bolted past the forest line, not even taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of it all, they kept running.

Whiteshadow was fine with that.

He had been running his whole life, this was just another page in that.

They ran and ran and ran and ran some more even when he thought he couldn't run anymore.

Slowly, ever so slowly, they came to a stop at a nearby spring that was just beginning to thaw, the slow trickle of water therapeutic and he tried to match his harsh breaths with it. It didn't really work, but at least he tried.

His reflection was muddled in the ice-covered water, and his heart felt like it was two seconds away from popping, and his bones felt like snapping at any moment, but the sheer relief that washed over him was like taking in air after damn near drowning.

He barely noticed that a few other cats were lazing around with them, three or four of them who had joined their desperate sprint into the forest and weren't quite ready to leave on their own, but Rainpaw was amongst them so he didn't care about the unexpected company.

The Stormclan apprentice caught her breath faster than he did, and he was almost jealous of her youth at the moment. Finally, when it felt like he wouldn't cough up one of his lungs and the cold winds weren't tearing his throat to shreds, Whiteshadow lifted his head in her direction.

She was already looking at him, eyes wide with disbelief and hope and the slightest bit fear.

...They had done it…

They were out.

The realization of it all made a breathless laugh escape his lips when he really couldn't afford to waste air on anything other than breathing, but it was nice. A teary smile pulled at her lips, shaky and unsure and her light blue eyes were glazed with tears now instead of whatever else was happening back there and-

"We did it," she breathed out, almost as if she was afraid that saying it any louder would make it untrue. She looked so scared, so scared that this was all just a dream, and Whiteshadow understood.

He thought this was all a dream too, but the burning in his lungs and the ache in his bones and the pain of his wounds were too real for this to be a dream.

"We did it," he chuckled before tilting his head back and shouting just because he could, "we did it!"

Rainpaw began laughing, something that was hysterically joyful, and the tom let out an oomph when she suddenly collided with his chest and the two were sent sprawling across the ground. The other strangers were laughing too, feeding off of their joy and relaxing just the slightest bit before one of them let out a whoo! and everyone began shouting and singing.

Whiteshadow didn't realize he was crying until he noticed Rainpaw was crying first, her tears falling from her face and onto his as she stood over him where he lay flat on his back with her above him.

She was crying and he was crying and he wondered what the two of them looked like at the moment.

They must have been a vision.

"We did it," she gasped out with a sob, and the black shadows that had taken up his life were now retreating away. Everything else didn't matter at the moment, they could focus and reflect on everything that had happened today, and every other day they were in that place at a later time, but for now…

For now, they could breathe.

"We did it," he gently pushed her off to sit up, his own tears of joy falling and he didn't know if he wanted them to stop or not. They were just another reminder that this was real and not a dream and they had actually escaped and-

"We can go home," Rainpaw whispered, voice shaky, scared with the realization that, yes: they could finally go home.

Whiteshadow reflected her smile with one of his own.

"Well then," he stood up on quivering paws and he felt like collapsing altogether, but his voice was firm and sure and powerful as he said, "let's go home, Rainpaw."

Home

With Blazeclan and Flarepaw and Redstar and the green trees and the open air and, and…

And Leafstar.

Home.

They could go home.

"Yeah," Rainpaw's voice trembled and she had never sounded more powerful before.

"Let's go home."

A/N: I may or may not have shed a tear or two during this chapter. But hooray! They did it! (I hope it doesn't feel rushed.) Frost is dead now cause Wildfire's a jerk- what's new?- and Flarekitty feels guilty. But Raindrop and Whiteshadow are going home everyone! I hope that was a nice place to end it on before my hiatus, and I hope you guys patiently wait for my return!

Until then, see ya later!

Question of the Day

(Random question from my little cousin)

What is your favorite book/book series?

(Mine is The Young Elite series by Marie Lu and the Witchlands Series by Susan Dennard… I love fantasy series)

Please review, favorite, and/or follow!

Let me know what you think of the story and give constructive criticism where you see fit.

If you have fanart of any kind, check out my profile for more details!

Thank you and peace out!

~Wolfcreations20