(Update August 19th, 2020) Hi y'all! This used to be an ancient story from August 2017 but after a whole FFN incident where the system was basically a big bully, I started to replace my old What Ifs with better written rewrites. I'm also planning on adding some brand new What Ifs. My main account is raindropp14 where most/all/any other of my work is posted, but this little gem ended up here. So please enjoy these updated 2020 Warrior What Ifs exploring things that might have happened if only one little thing (or maybe a not so little thing) got changed.

INDEX OF WHAT IFS - including unnecessary commentary

1: What If Swiftpaw Survived Instead of Brightpaw? - the very first one I ever did

2: What If Firestar Was A Girl? - second one I did, good learning curve

3: What If Cinderpelt Never Got Hit? - third favorite, like the possibilities

4: What If Thistleclaw Became Deputy Instead of Bluefur? - my second favorite so far

5: What If the Dark Forest Won? - this one's definitely my favorite, and perhaps also the best

6: What If Bramblepaw Left ThunderClan Instead of Tawnypaw? - the new one is vastly improved

What If Swiftpaw Survived Instead of Brightpaw?

. . .

Brightpaw's POV

"The Battle"

I guess it's my fault for not seeing common sense. I mean, there's really no world where chasing after some unseen, unknown enemy by yourself is a good idea. I like to think that maybe that was exactly why I came – so Swiftpaw wouldn't be alone. It wasn't like I had known what was going to happen. And Bluestar really should have made us warriors alongside Cloudtail! But… in the end, I guess there was really no one else to blame but myself for agreeing. For following.

"Come on, it's now or never!" Swiftpaw looked back at me from the shadows of the elders' den. "Are you coming or not?"

Right. Time to earn my warrior name.

"I'm coming," I declared, picking up my pace to stand next to him. I'm kind of scared, but I don't want to admit it and a good warrior fights through their fear, anyways.

Swiftpaw seemed to sense my apprehension, nonetheless. He pressed his side against mine. "Don't worry, we've got this. And remember: after tonight, Bluestar has got to make us warriors!"

He had to be right, and I knew it. We were doing a quest – a heroic quest braving the unknown – for the good of our Clan, like the best of warriors would do! There was no room for doubt about this. After tonight, we'd be preparing for our warrior vigils. We already deserved to be warriors like Cloudtail, but when we told the Clan what was lurking at Snakerocks, it would be clearer than ever.

"I know a secret way out of camp. It's in the ferns behind this den," Swiftpaw told me. He had already explained this to me before, but I figured he was just trying to be a good leader since this was all Swiftpaw's plan, after all.

He ducked behind the den and I followed, just a few pawsteps behind him at all times.

Before I knew it, we had pushed through the ferns and had started leaping up the ravine to the forest floor. It was a cold night, with a light wind that sliced through my ginger-and-white fur and chilled me to the bone.

I shivered, fluffing up my coat and hunching my shoulders. We'll be warriors. This is worth it. We'll do fine.

"Okay, so now all we have to do is get to Snakerocks and figure out what's there!" Swiftpaw mewed, slowing his gait so that I could catch up. I did so quickly, brushing my pelt against his for warmth.

Swiftpaw stayed still for no more than a heartbeat before shooting off into the woods. "C'mon, Brightpaw!"

Without a second to spare I hared after him. Like his name suggested, Swiftpaw was fast – but I sought the warmth of his pelt and feared being alone in the night enough that I was running alongside him again in no time.

Swiftpaw ran quickly, efficiently, hopping over fallen logs and pushing through clumps of ferns even when I skidded around them. He never wavered from his path, never faltered in his steps. It was as if Swiftpaw's life depended on reaching Snakerocks as soon as possible, as if there was nothing more important to him than driving out the mysterious inhabitants and earning his warrior name.

I pondered this. I wondered, and I ran. I ran until I didn't think I could run anymore, until I was certain my paws would drop off, but Swiftpaw was still there, still weaving through the trees, so I didn't stop. I couldn't.

It was only when I noticed the scent that I dared slow down. It was strange, dark, and utterly foreboding, and my fur bushed out on its own accord.

"Swiftpaw!" I hissed. "Swiftpaw, be careful!"

But either he didn't hear me, or he didn't care. Swiftpaw jumped over yet another downed tree, placing himself just tail-lengths from the closest cave entrance. "Don't worry! There's nothing here!"

His call was a signal.

A huge beast made of shadows and darkness flew out of the cave, lunging for Swiftpaw's throat. He just barely twisted in time, his eyes fixed on my own like he could draw strength and speed from my terrified gaze.

Maybe he could. I certainly felt like I had been leeched of energy, my paws feeling like stones as I stood, frozen, in the shadows.

The dog landed roughly on the ground, larger than any kittypet I'd even seen with my mentor, Whitestorm. Its teeth seemed to glisten despite the limited moonlight, trapping my gaze. As the dog realized it hadn't quite gotten Swiftpaw, it leaped again – this time for me.

I was too terrified to do anything but stand there.

Slavering jaws fastened around my throat, shaking me like I remembered doing to my first catch. I wondered if this sense of absolute terror was what prey felt, this immobilizing fright and sadness and certain doom.

I would have died then if it hadn't been for Swiftpaw. He threw himself, screeching, at the terrible beast. His yowls brought me back to life and suddenly I was thrashing viciously, swiping my claws at the dog's massive chest in vain.

Suddenly, I landed heavily on the ground, freed.

The dog pulled back, recalculating his attacks, and Swiftpaw raced to my side.

"Brightpaw!" he breathed, wide-eyed. "Are you okay? Don't worry, it's just one dog, we can drive him off and we'll be warriors. Just remember, we're going to be fine and we're going to be warriors."

I gave a nod and rose, shaking, to my paws. We were going to be warriors, and warriors are stronger than their fear.

For a few moments, there was hope.

But then, as Swiftpaw and I rolled to the side and slashed our claws at the dog's side… Well, that was when things got bad.

At least six more dogs were bounding across the clearing towards us, all of them four times our size or bigger. They were growling so loud that the earth seemed to shake under my paws and all I could think was that we were doomed.

"Pack, pack," they snarled. "Kill, kill."

My world became a whirl of claws, paws, and jaws. I wove between the dogs, lashing out at everything I could and dodging all the attacks I saw coming. I yowled every time a dog got me. I yowled every time I scored a hit. Pained, triumphant, scared – but not alone. I could still hear Swiftpaw fighting like all of LionClan beside me as he hissed and howled in rage and defiance.

I didn't know what I was doing anymore. It was like my body was listening to someone else and I was just a ghost of my past self, watching but doing nothing.

Then everything turned upside down – literally – and the air was knocked out of me. All I could see was dust, and then, as that cleared, legs and blood became visible. My legs wouldn't respond. I couldn't move anything, but I didn't know whether that was because I hurt too bad or because I was too exhausted to summon the energy I needed. The dogs battered me around and I let them.

At some point, I saw Swiftpaw break away from the pack and, in desperation, fly towards a tree. The dogs tried to knock him down again, but Swiftpaw made it to safety just in time and the large, heavy dogs were unable to follow.

My relief ebbed away when the dogs, enraged, turned their fury on me.

It didn't take long for the world to go black and I knew my life was slipping away.

. . .

Swiftpaw's POV

"Aftermath"

If I had known that Brightpaw would have died, I wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have even suggested the stupid Snakerocks raid. I blamed myself for her death, for climbing that tree and leaving her to the dogs when my desperation took control. I wasn't much better off, of course – with most of my tail chewed off and one forepaw permanently twisted, alongside broken ribs and other various wounds. I was a made warrior – but it was not like anything I had imaged my warrior ceremony would be.

The first thing I noticed was the pain. My tail was on fire, one forepaw screamed in agony, and I ached all over. Huh, I thought. I guess I'm alive. Whatever that meant.

I felt exhausted, like I had run all the way to the moonstone and back. But the memories were coming back and I had to know, I had to see –

My eyes opened to a place that was very decidedly not Snakerocks.

Where am I? I tried to look around, but the slightest movement made me nauseous. Am I dead? Is this StarClan?

"Twistedfoot? Twistedfoot, you're awake!"

Cinderpelt was limping to stand beside me, eyes glittering with relief. So not StarClan. But – I tasted the air – where was Brightpaw?

"How do you feel?" Cinderpelt ducked down to sniff at my side. "You've been asleep for three days!"

"Brightpaw?" I croaked. "She's okay, right?"

I think I already knew she was dead. I left her, and she died at the paws of those dogs. I saw her die. But maybe I was wrong. I had to be wrong. Brightpaw was alive and she was going to pop up behind me with a mouse and tell me that everything was going to be alright, that we were going to be warriors, that we were –

Cinderpelt's gaze was fully of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Twistedfoot. She was already dead by the time we found you."

And even though I had figured she was, the ground dropped away underneath me and the earth swallowed me whole. Brightpaw was dead. My world was shattered.

This is your fault, a voice whispered in my ear. You brought her to Snakerocks, she wanted you to stop, she called your name, but you kept going. You killed her.

I wanted to scream. I loved her! I would never hurt her! But my ploy – my desire for my warrior name – had gotten her killed.

Wait… warrior name. Cinderpelt hadn't been calling me Swiftpaw.

I focused on the sickeningly sweet smell of herbs and followed it back to Cinderpelt and the medicine den. "Twistedfoot?" I questioned.

Cinderpelt winced. "After we found you and brought you back to camp… well, we thought you would die, too. Bluestar gave you your warrior name – Twistedfoot, because of your paw."

I looked down at the paw that had been throbbing, only to see it was twisted backwards and heavily gnawed. Shocked, I just swung my gaze back to the medicine cat.

"Twistedfoot," I repeated.

Looking desperate to lighten the mood – like she knew what true desperation was – Cinderpelt tossed me a joyless smile. "Well, she couldn't do Halftail, could she?"

Wait, what? I'd lost my tail? It hurt too much – physically, emotionally, take your pick – to look. But the burning in my tail seemed to grow a little stronger.

"Yeah," I mewed instead, not knowing what to say.

I closed my eyes and tried to tell myself that none of this was real.

Cinderpelt didn't say another word.

. . .

Cinderpelt's POV

"Soulless"

It was hard to watch. As the days passed and Twistedfoot's haunted look persisted, I felt myself being sucked into his constant gloom. The young tom seemed not to care for anything – no outrage at his terrible name, no delight at Bramblekit and Tawnykit's apprentice ceremonies. Just devestation. Ashpaw and Thornpaw visited him often in the beginning, but Twistedfoot's depression drove even his closest friends away. I was left to try and heal the tom's physical and mental wounds by myself.

"I'm not hungry," Twistedfoot muttered, his head resting on his paws like he couldn't will himself to hold it up.

I sighed. Experience told me that pressing him wouldn't get me anywhere. Instead, I tucked the rabbit closer to Twistedfoot's nest and slipped out of my den. Fireheart spotted me instantly and padded over, his green eyes wide and searching.

"How is he?" Fireheart asked.

"Let's see, he refuses to eat, drink, or be anything but depressed," I listed, upset with myself and with Twistedfoot. "It's like his soul died with Brightpaw."

Fireheart rested his tail against my flank. "You're doing your best," he said. "Maybe he just needs some time to recover."

"He's had time," I pointed out. "It doesn't seem to be doing him any good."

Sighing, I let Fireheart lead me over to the fresh-kill pile. He selected two voles, passing me one and reminding me that just because Twistedfoot wouldn't eat didn't mean that I shouldn't. We nibbled at our meals in silence. What I really needed was hope, but that was a little harder to catch.

"Do you call him Twistedfoot?"

"What?" Startled, I jerked my head over to face the ginger tom. "Yeah. It's his name now, whether we like it or not."

Fireheart narrowed his eyes. "Don't. He needs to be called Swiftpaw. That's his name, the one that he is proud of and thinks of as his own. Twistedfoot is just a reminder of everything that went wrong, but Swiftpaw is training and friendship and daring."

I nodded slowly. "That makes sense." Honestly, I loathed his new name – how dare Bluestar name him that? – but I'd figured that he would have to get used to it sooner or later. But maybe that was the wrong approach.

"Y0u know what," I added hesitantly, unsure of myself. "He could sleep in the apprentices' den, too. His wounds are healing so he doesn't need me hovering over him all time. Being in his own den would be familiar."

Fireheart twitched one ear, nodding. "Right! Let him be around his friends more often. He'll see that the Clan is still going, that just because Brightpaw died doesn't mean everything else did, too."

Maybe hope wasn't so hard to catch after all.

The rest of the day was spent preparing. I found Ashpaw and Thornpaw and asked them to make the apprentices' den a positive place, to call Twisted-Swiftpaw by the name his mother gave him rather than the one Bluestar had. We made a fresh nest and placed it between Ashpaw and Thornpaw's but closer to the entrance, so that the apprentices would constantly be passing by him on their way in and out.

Everything was ready by the end of the day. I padded into my den and roused Swiftpaw, noting that the rabbit hadn't been touched. I hesitated, but my hope stood strong.

"Swiftpaw, get on your paws," I ordered. I didn't miss the tiny twitch of one ear at the sound of his old name.

"Why?" he muttered.

I grabbed his scruff and tugged the black-and-white tom to his feet. He stood on three paws, his twisted one in the air, but kept his balance. I nudged him towards the entrance, harder and harder until Swiftpaw was forced to move if he didn't want to fall over. Together, we hobbled across the camp to the apprentices' den where Ashpaw and Thornpaw were waiting inside.

When Ashpaw, laughing at some joke Thornpaw had told, waved Swiftpaw over and started telling him about some hunting expedition that had landed him in a pile of brambles earlier that day, I knew this was the right thing to do.

With any luck, Swiftpaw would soon be on his feet on his own accord.

. . .

Firestar's POV

"A Warrior's Name"

StarClan must have been on our side, because Swiftpaw slowly began to lighten and return to his normal self. Even though times were hard when we struggled to defeat the dogs, losing Bluestar in the process, good things also came. With Ashpaw and Thornpaw's help, Swiftpaw learned to accommodate his twisted paw and lost tail and now spent his days hunting and sparring with his friends. Even after all the hardship of his youth, Swiftpaw had become a fine young tom, and it was time that his official name reflected his strengths, not his struggles.

"I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. He has trained hard to learn the ways of your noble code, and for that, I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn," I began, turning to the apprentice. "Thornpaw, do you promise to protect and defend your Clan at all times, even at the cost of your life?"

Thornpaw looked me in the eyes, gaze full to the brim with fierce determination. "I do."

"Then from now on, you shall be known as Thornclaw. StarClan honors your loyalty and determination and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan," I declared, resting my muzzle on the new warrior's forehead; he licked my shoulder respectfully in return.

I hoped he understood why I used loyalty and determination despite how simple and common they seemed to be. Loyalty, for he never gave up on Swiftpaw, and determination, for he kept going, kept training the tom until he was as capable as any warrior. Ashpaw would probably have the same values mentioned in his own warrior ceremony, I figured.

As ThunderClan finished calling out Thornclaw's new name, I raised my tail for silence.

The noise died down, my Clan looking up at me with surprise. Clearly, there was nothing else to be mentioned… right?

"Before you all return to your duties, there is something more that I'd like to say," I started confidently. "First off, I want to honor the apprentice who should have been here, receiving her warrior name alongside her brother Thornclaw. You all know how Brightpaw met her death trying to hunt down the dog pack who threatened us. Her Clan will always remember that."

A murmur of agreement rose from the clearing below, grief dampening each cat's face as they remembered the bright-spirited, popular young apprentice.

"In addition, I'd like to give thanks from the Clan to Fernpaw and Ashpaw. They showed the bravery of warriors in the race against the dogs, and although they are still too young to receive their warrior names, we honor them," I continued.

The sadness that had shrouded the Clan gave way to proud cheers as the Clan called out the two apprentices' names. I spotted Dustpelt's eyes shining with delight and purred with amusement – it was obvious that the warrior was head over tail for Fernpaw. However, my purrs died quickly when I noticed Darkstripe was staring coldly in front of him instead of supporting his apprentice. I was more than certain at this point that he had fed Sorrelkit the deathberries on purpose, but that was a matter for later. Right now was for Swiftpaw.

As the noise died down, I ran through this last ceremony in my head. I didn't want to mess this up for the young tom. I took a deep breath, rested my gaze on Swiftpaw – technically Twistedfoot – and began.

"There's one more ceremony to perform today."

Twistedfoot rose to his feet and padded forwards, his eyes focused on me.

Murmurs of surprise rang through the Clan. Many of them wouldn't understand what was about to happen; after all, the name-changing ceremony I was about to do had not been used for seasons and, even if some of the older cats had seen one before, they might not remember it.

"Spirits of StarClan, you know every cat by name. I ask you now to take away the name from the cat you see before you, for it no longer stands for what he is."

The now-nameless tom stood calmly before me, patiently waiting for his new name – the name that would, at last, free him from the trauma of his apprenticeship. I hoped he would approve of the name I had chosen.

"By my authority as Clan leader, and with the approval of our warrior ancestors, I give this cat a new name." I paused, surveying the tom one last time. Here goes nothing. "From this moment on he will be known as Swiftheart. Even though his body may bear great scars, he has grown past these limitations and proven himself as a warrior of great skill. I see in him a cat stronger and braver than any other, a cat who welcomes the good times but remains unafraid of the bad."

I stepped forward rested my muzzle on his forehead like I had done with Thornclaw. And, like any new warrior, he responded by licking my shoulder.

When I moved away, the clearing thundered with the enthusiastic calls of his new – his true – name. Thornclaw and Ashpaw bounded over, eyes shining as they led their friend into the swarm of his Clanmates. Swiftheart turned to follow them but paused to look over his shoulder at me. He opened his mouth, and even though I couldn't hear him over the cheers of his name, I knew exactly what he had said.

"Thank you."

Hopefully y'all enjoyed, even if you already read the first old version before you saw this! I personally think that my writing has improved a lot since the last time I did these, so hopefully my efforts have paid off. As a side note, I'll probably re-upload the new versions every two or three days, just to give me some time to review them and spruce them up a little more. I'll say at the top of the chapter if it's a rewrite or not (although you will probably be able to tell by the quality of the writing if it is or isn't). You can also look at the chapter title - I'm changing up the formatting a little bit for those as well. I will also go ahead and include review replies to the ancient reviews alongside new reviews, simply because this is not my primary account and it isn't attached to my email, meaning I never got notifications about reviews and didn't see most of them until long after this turned inactive and as such felt pretty bad about that ever since.

You're welcome to drop suggestions for more What Ifs but I can't promise that there will be more for certain-sure if nothing catches my eye. Just a tip, because I did get lots of suggestions in the past: I probably won't do anything that has big/more than one ripples in the Warriors world. Also, I'll probably stick to the first four series (The Prophecies Begin through Omen of the Stars) because they were my favorites and the ones I'm most familiar with - I haven't even read Lost Stars/The Broken Code yet.

Anyways, like I said, hopefully this was fun for y'all to read! Tell me how I did in the reviews, constructive criticism is more than welcome.

See y'all next time!

Syrup aka Rain