✧ Devious Fates ✧ | COMPLETE WARRIOR CATS FANFICTION STORY |

// Chapter Eighteen

Two shapes prowled in the evening, a golden she-cat carrying a tawny tom-kit. They crept along the boundary of rolling moors, their silhouettes barely visible in the night that stretched over the sky.

We did it. Thistlethorn was one of the figures, still gaping at her achievement. She was flanked by her mother, Goldenheart.

"We've reached the Thunderpath," Goldenheart cautioned in a mouthful of fur. "Careful not to wake the kit up when we cross." Don't you think I know that? But Thistlethorn chose not to make her spiteful comment. She only grunted in response, her eyes reflecting with slight grudge as she shielded her mother with her tail as they trekked along the paved path.

Thistlethorn felt slightly stiff with fear, but she learned from Squirrelchase that letting her own fear get to her while crossing the Thunderpath could be a death wish. She and Goldenheart started racing faster, the thought of monster's vicious snarls haunting them. They eventually arrived at the opposite side, waves of relief crashing over them.

Just as Goldenheart was still catching her breath, Thistlethorn was signaling her towards a tunnel brimmed with briars that stuck out. Goldenheart's neck fur lifted with reluctance. Was it really a good idea to bring a kit through a tunnel that could very easily wake it up?

It was too late to really think their decision through. The two she-cats already dashed for the tunnel, carefully avoiding the briars that stuck out from the stone, moss-worn walls. "There," Thistlethorn sighed as she decided they were far away enough to speak. Her eyes flashed with reassurance. "We will not lose this kit, Goldenheart." Not on my watch. This is what Jayheart gets for killing Brinekit. Sorrow tugged at her heart at the memory of her adopted brother.

"No cat can be sure, Thistlethorn," Goldenheart's anxious mew went. "It mays still catch a sickness, or the Clan may not accept him, or-"

Thistlethorn cut the golden she-cat off, giving her a playful shove while still making sure not to wake the shape dangling from her jaws. "Stop being so negative, Goldenheart," she meowed slyly, Goldenheart's eyes narrowing to a skeptical look. "I'll make sure none of that happens."

The two she-cats quickened their pace. The kit in Goldenheart's jaws started to stir. Fear overtook Thistlethorn and Goldenheart. We've gone too far to stop now. Thistlethorn started to gently stroke the tom with her tongue across the ear. He eventually seemed to calm and go back to his sleeping state. Goldenheart huffed a breath of relief.

Thistlethorn eventually emerged out of the shaft that led into the ShadowClan camp, wincing as the final briars pricked her. But as Goldenheart took a final step, the kit snapped open his jaws and started to cry with distress.

No, no, no!

Goldenheart and Thistlethorn froze in alarm. Weary figures appeared out of their dens, their gazes illuminating with confusion. Goldenheart looked the most terrified. She had already been punished before; she seemed to absolutely dread her next punishment. Everyone was going to find out anyway.. but it shouldn't of been like this.

Thistlethorn tried grooming the tom-kit's nose, but it seemed to only make it worse. The kit started writhing around in Goldenheart's grip, indignantly howling and wailing. Great StarClan, this kit is barely larger than a mouse but he has the voice of a lion!

"Goldenheart's up to something else?" Thistlethorn heard Eaglefeather's voice hiss. The spotted black and brown tom's tail started to lash.

Other confused mutters rung in the clearing, followed by the milling of puzzled ShadowClan cats. Whitestar appeared outside of his den, approaching Goldenheart and Thistlethorn with an angry, narrowed-eye expression. Goldenheart went completely stiff with horror, the tawny kit in her jaws starting to slightly calm, only crying out occasionally.