Bluefur's Choice

Rising Tensions

In the moons that followed Oakheart's death, Bluefur renewed her focus on her warrior duties. The four territories were peaceful for the most part, aside from a few border skirmishes. Thistlestar still insisted on continuing the thrice daily patrols along RiverClan's border, and aside from the time a single young warrior had crossed into ThunderClan territory in a defiant challenge to ThunderClan's recent territory acquisition, activity by the river was quiet.

Bluefur didn't remember much about that Gathering aside from the announcement of Oakheart's death, but from her Clanmates' conversations she found out that Thistlestar had been an intimidating force in response to Crookedstar's rage, and had threatened him with attacks on the RiverClan camp if they put so much as a single paw on Sunningrocks. Most of the Clan seemed to think Thistlestar was bluffing, but Bluefur didn't think so. If the RiverClan warrior had been at Sunningrocks instead of the stepping stones, she was certain they would have been thrown into an all-out war.

Thankfully though, Crookedstar had backed down, but Bluefur knew it wouldn't be long before some cat or another provoked Thistlestar into ordering another attack.

Battle wasn't the only thing on her Clanmates minds however. With the additional territory prey was running well, and Mosstail was gaining quite the reputation as a skilled hunter. "Look at this!" the pale gray she-cat mewed one day, her tail high as she trotted into camp. Bluefur glanced down and saw that her daughter was carrying a rather large squirrel.

Mistyfur padded up behind her, rolling her eyes. "She's been talking about that squirrel all morning."

"You would too if you had to jump between trees to catch it." Depositing the squirrel on the fresh-kill pile, Mosstail gave her sister a mischievous glance. "I think you're just jealous of my incredible hunting skills."

"Right. When you fell from one of the higher branches and only avoided breaking a leg by landing directly on top of a squirrel I was overcome with envy-"

"You know, Mistyfur," Mosstail went on, "I can teach you if you want. With enough practice you could probably get almost as good as me. You just have to ask. I'm sure Runningwind would be impressed if you gained new tree hunting abilities."

"What- I don't- why would I need to impress-" Purring, Bluefur closed her eyes, letting the sound of her daughters' good natured dispute wash over her ears. Mosstail's friendly jibes sounded familiar, like how Oakheart would have been if he'd grown up hunting in trees instead of the river. It seemed like every day now that one of her kits did something that reminded her of Oakheart.

Bluefur couldn't help but see Oakheart in Stoneclaw, Mistyfur, and Mosstail. In some ways they were just like him: the way they walked, the way their whiskers twitched in response to a joke... She allowed herself to freely recognize Oakheart in her kits, and sometimes almost thought she could feel his presence. The ache in her chest grew less painful with time.

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The seasons came and went. Robinwing announced that she was expecting a litter of kits, and soon after that gave birth to a single tom, Longkit. Bluefur noticed many of the younger cats were especially excited over his birth, including Mosstail, Mistyfur, and Stoneclaw. She figured they were hoping to receive Longkit as their apprentice; with the lack of new kits in recent seasons there were many skilled warriors who had yet to gain that honor. Personally, Bluefur thought it was unlikely; she had overheard Thistlestar and Tigerclaw discussing Darkstripe's readiness to train an apprentice even though he was the Clan's newest warrior.

Time was passing with little to differentiate the days, and Bluefur was glad. Perhaps ThunderClan would survive with Thistlestar as its leader. Goosefeather had been wrong, he had to be. His mind had been deteriorating in the seasons before he died, and Bluefur figured that the prophecy predicting the downfall of ThunderClan probably wasn't true...