Horror coursed through Duskelle and she stood stock still as she gazed upon what was in front of her. Stormpaw. This couldn't be happening. No. Not when she'd accomplished her goal. Not when she was about to be accepted for once. Not now.

   Lightning flashed, and thunder followed after it, the boom ringing in Duskelle's ears and arousing her from her stupor. She rushed forward, Hawkkit still grasped in her paw. She reached the still gray form and bent over Stormpaw, dropping Hawkkit as she did so. The kit mewled and pressed herself against the only source warmth that was not taken by the storm: Duskelle's body, the owner of whom was too busy shaking the tom in front of her.

   "Stormpaw! Stormpaw! Please, Stormpaw, please get up! I know it, I know you're not dead! Please... I beg you..." her voice cracked and for a moment, there was nothing except for the soft pitter patter of rain and the whistling of wind as Duskelle bowed her head. He was gone. And it was all her fault. She shouldn't have gone inside the den. She should've waited outside for him to find her. Or she should've gone looking for him when she'd found the hole. She should've gone after him in the first place, she should've refused to let them split up, she should've stuck with him, so that she could've at least protected him, maybe given up her life for him, because it was better spent than his. Somewhere in the back of her mind, something told her that she wasn't thinking straight, that it wasn't her fault, that she hadn't done anything to cause this, but she ignored it. All her thoughts were filled with blame, blame directed at herself.

   And so the salty liquid that sometimes ran out of her eyes when she thought about how alone she was in the world began to pour out of her eyes, and she wept. She wept, the cause of which was the other cats in the clan. She wept for the sadness they would feel when they found out their beloved, their friend, their kit, their littermate, their Stormpaw, was gone. She wept for their anguish, for the grief that would eat away at their minds, for the crushing sadness that would suffocate them.

For she knew exactly how that felt.

   Duskelle threw back her head and howled at the cloud-ridden sky above her, a feral howl that made her sound more like a dog than a cat or a creature. It was a sound full of sadness, full of regret, and most of all, self-disgust. It was because of her that this had happened. If only she hadn't been so selfish. If only she hadn't cared so much for herself. If only, if only, if only — they filled her head, all the thoughts of other things she could've done, how she could've saved him, how it was all her fault.

   A soft sound that broke through her sobs made her tilt her head down to look at the tom before her. What she saw made her gasp.

   "Stormpaw?"

   Emerald green eyes stared back at her, the eyelids barely able to keep them open.

Elation filled her. Stormpaw was alive! He wasn't dead, he was fine, he was completely alright!

   "B-Blue...wing?" Stormpaw's hoarse voice croaked out. "Is it...is it really...is it you? Blue...wing? Ha-have...you c-come to t-take you...with...you? To...to StarClan?"

   "What? I'm sorry, Stormpaw, but I'm not Bluewing, and I'm not taking you to...StarClan? Stormpaw, it's me, Stormpaw! It's Duske-Duskpaw! Are you awake? Can you hear me?" Duskelle would've slapped herself in the face with her tail if she'd had one. Was he awake? Of course he was! How else could he speak?

   "Bluewing...Blue...wing..." Stormpaw's eyes unfocused and he stared off into the distance as he repeated the name.

   "No, Stormpaw-" Duskelle stopped talking abruptly. It was no use talking to Stormpaw now. She had to get him back to the camp. He couldn't survive like this for long.

   "Hey!" Duskelle looked around. Had she heard a voice? No, it couldn't be. There was nobody out here except for her...and Stormpaw.

   "Hey, you, Twoleg!" Definitely a voice, and coming from below. She looked down to see a muddy scrap of fur and bright blue eyes. Hawkkit. The kit had gotten over the initial shock.

   "Look, Hawkkit, I understand you're probably confused right now, but-"

   "Why can you talk to me? You're a Twoleg."

   "That's not-"

   "Why are you not killing me and eating me now? That's what Twolegs do, right?"

   "Actually-"

   "Is that Stormpaw?" The kit gasped, a tiny sound that Duskelle could barely hear over the noise of the storm.

   Lightning flashed in the sky and thunder boomed a second after. Hawkkit flinched. "That's what it is?" She looked up at the sky. "I've heard it, but Icebreeze never lets me out of the nursery when the sound comes."

   Before Duskelle could say something, the kit's attention switched back to Stormpaw. "So what happened to Stormpaw? And what's that scent — the weird metallic one. Is that — blood? Ashkit smelled like that when he went too far out of camp into the forest and stepped on a thorn." Hawkkit's eyes grew round. "Is Stormpaw bleeding? Did you hurt him?" She scrambled forward and tentatively reached out a paw and touched Stormpaw's muzzle. The tom groaned in response, apparently too exhausted to open his eyes again.

   "Hawkkit — Hawkkit, Stormpaw's hurt. I need to get him back to the camp — Lilacfeather can help him. Please don't — please don't make this harder for me. I'm going to pick up Stormpaw, and I'm going to stand up on two legs, okay? I need you to follow me."

    Hawkkit's large blue eyes stared back at Duskelle. "I can help you. I can help you carry him."

Duskelle shook her head exasperatedly. "Hawkkit, please. It's very important. Just — just follow me." With that, she rose to her hind legs, muscles screaming in protest after not being in that position since days. She leaned down and slipped her front paws under Stormpaw, wincing at his groan of pain as she lifted him up to cradle him in her front legs.

   Water splashed against her pelt and her right front paw began to throb. She looked at it, frowning as she squinted through the darkness. Small scratches criss-crossed her skin, and she remembered Hawkkit clawing her in protest in the fox den.

   Duskelle sighed, but did nothing to cover her paw to protect herself from the stinging raindrops. Instead, she began to advance forward, glancing back every few second to make sure that Hawkkit was with her. Slowly, but surely, they began to make ground.

   After what seemed like hours to her, Duskelle finally reached a tree that she thought she recognized. Her grim expression softened. It was only a little way to camp from here. She turned her head to check on Hawkkit, and she failed to see the protruding root in front of her. Duskelle tripped, a bolt of pain shooting up her leg as she stumbled onto the ground, drawing another groan from Stormpaw as she twisted and made an effort to fall on her back without hurting him.

   Hawkkit bounded up to her. "What happened?" the kit asked, eyes wide.

   "Tripped," Duskelle grunted. She pushed herself up and placed Stormpaw carefully on the ground next to her, her breath hitching when she saw the amount of blood he had left on her Twoleg garments. She reached forward and touched her ankle. The action sent a small spike of pain up her leg, but it wasn't too bad.

   She tried to push herself to two legs. It wasn't a good idea. She immediately collapsed, black spots swimming in front of her vision. Her ankle was injured badly. Too badly to make it to camp.

Duskelle shook her head. She couldn't afford to think that way. She had to get Stormpaw to camp, however she could. Otherwise...there could be no otherwise. She was going to get him to Lilacfeather and that was that. She dragged herself back to Stormpaw from where she'd fallen, gritting her teeth and trying to ignore the pain.

   She sat for a moment, trying to think of a way to accomplish her mission. She couldn't exactly walk on two legs. Maybe — just maybe — she might be able to sling him across her back and carry him that way. She wouldn't be able to get far and it'd be hard to make sure he wouldn't fall off. But it was the only thing she could do. She had to do this.

   Duskelle situated herself on four legs, wincing when her hurt leg touched the ground and trying not to put weight on it. She slipped one of her front paws under Stormpaw. "Hawkkit," she said through clenched teeth. "Help me lift Stormpaw."

   The kit scurried over and managed to wiggle her front half under the apprentice. She pushed up, adding a slight bit of relief to Duskelle's load, though not much. Duskelle lifted up Stormpaw and managed to ease him up onto her back. "Hawkkit, I'm going to need your help," she said.

   "How?"

   "I want you make sure Stormpaw doesn't fall off, okay? I'll be moving real slow so you should be able to do it. Can you do that?"

   "I can do it." Hawkkit looked up at Duskelle, determination evident in her pale blue gaze.

   "Alright then, let's get started." Duskelle gritted her teeth and began to move forward slowly. It was a painstaking process. Each jolt, each rock, each twig sent a fresh wave of pain over Duskelle's leg. Stormpaw's body threatened to slide off of her multiple times. Hawkkit wasn't much of a help. She scurried around Duskelle and sometimes pushed a stray paw or Stormpaw's tail back up onto Duskelle.

   Just when Duskelle was about to collapse from exhaustion, a voice, unmistakably a cat's, broke through the sound of the relentless rain.

   "I smell something!"

   "What?"

   "RiverClan."

   "We're in RiverClan territory. We're RiverClan cats!"

   "No, that not what I meant! I meant that —"

   "I can smell it too. There are cats out there."

There was a pause, as if the cats were exchanging glances, and Duskelle used that moment to call out.

   "Hello?"

   "Who's that?" The sounds of cats tromping through undergrowth came to her a second before three cats padded out of the bushes blocking her way. It was Graysplash, along with two other cats she didn't know, a tortoiseshell with sharp amber eyes and a tom with a rippling gray and white pelt. As she gazed at the two cats, she realized that she recognized both of them. The she-cat was Dapplerush, the cat who had called out at the Clan meeting and the tom was the cat who'd ignored Duskelle near the dirtplace.

   "Duskpaw?" Duskelle looked up at Graysplash's incredulous voice. The warrior swept his eyes over the scene, taking in the leg Duskelle was dragging behind her, Stormpaw's bleeding form on her back, and Hawkkit pushing up Stormpaw's tail again.

   "What is going on? What's happened to —"

   "Stormpaw!" The other tom barreled towards Duskelle. He dragged Stormpaw off her back, earning a moan from the half-conscious apprentice. He bumped into Duskelle's leg on the way, making her wince with pain.

   Graysplash padded over to Stormpaw, looking first at the apprentice and then at Duskelle. "Duskpaw-what-what's going on?"

   Once again, the warrior was interrupted. Hawkkit bounded forward. "Graysplash!" The young she-cat buried her face in Graysplash's side and he placed a paw over her, looking from the kit to Duskelle, his mouth hanging open.  

             Duskelle limped forward, jolts of pain making her expression contort into a grimace of pain. 

"It's a long story."