𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙈𝘽𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙍𝙐𝙄𝙉, warriors

Prologue

THE LAST TIME THAT Sagebramble had felt this much pain, he had been a mere apprentice, halfway to StarClan as a result of a friendly dare which had turned brutal under the light of a claw-moon.

     Those carefree moons seemed so long ago, so far into the past that they were simply just remnants of echoes, laughter which haunted his dreams in the darkness when he slept beneath the stars.

     He almost missed them, those days of his youth. He hadn't been burdened then. He hadn't felt the pang of death weighing as heavy on his heart as the limp cat did on his back now.

     "Injured cats!" The snow-white deputy of ShadowClan yowled as he stumbled into camp, doing his best to ignore the pain that flared up all over his body as he did so. The stares of his frightened Clanmates bore into his pelt, even as the rest of his battered patrol filed through the entrance and fanned out behind him.

     With a heavy sigh, the tom leaned sideways, the body of the cat which he had been carrying landing on the ground beside him with a low thud. Even without the physical weight on his shoulders, the guilt pressed down on him — he hadn't been able to save her. It was all his fault.

     His sister was dead because of his hesitation.

     "Whitewillow!"

     Hearing a shout caused Sagebramble to snap his gaze up, dark green eyes bearing into those of his fellow Clanmate and close friend, Goldensquirrel.

     The anguish in the other tom's gaze was apparent. "What . . . what happened?" He asked his deputy, unable to continue looking at him or the body of the dead warrior.

     Sagebramble shook his head, the exhaustion hitting him like a monster from the thunderpath. "There were too many. RiverClan completely slaughtered us."

     "They ambushed you?" Songbirdwhisker, a senior warrior who was only a little younger than the deputy, growled, fur bristling along her shoulders. "Fox-hearts! How dare they?"

     One of the warriors on the patrol shook his head, tufts of fur having been pulled from his flank and deep, bloody gashes carved into his flesh. "We never saw them coming. It was an entire battle patrol, and they came down on us, claws out."

     Letting out another heavy sigh, Sagebramble shook out his fur, scattering droplets of blood onto the ground. "Where is Wildapple?" He demanded, lashing his tail. "There are multiple wounded cats."

     "I'm here!"

     Rushing out from the medicine cat den was a young tortoiseshell tom, his fur sticking out at all angles due to anxiety. He came to a halt before the ShadowClan deputy, dropping a bundle of herbs breathlessly.

     "What in StarClan's name happened?" The young cat looked around at the patrol, his amber gaze wide with concern and confusion.

     Sagebramble narrowed his eyes at the young medicine cat. "RiverClan ambushed us at the border."

     Wildapple seemed to shake all anxiety from his mind at those words, steeling his nerves before straightening up. "Where are you hurt the worst?"

     The Clan deputy shook his head. "No. Not me. Take care of the others first. Petalpaw was injured the worst. She collapsed on the way back to camp."

     As he spoke, two other members of his patrol guided a blood-soaked young she-cat forward, one on each side to support her shivering form. Even the sight of her caused Sagebramble to bristle with rage — this cat wasn't even a moon into her apprenticeship and she was so gravely wounded.