Back in the camp, Nightshade spotted Bluestar leaving the nursery. Quickly she dropped her catch on the pile of fresh-kill and padded over to the leader, acutely aware of multiple sets of eyes tracking her movement across the clearing. Runningwind immediately abandoned his conversation with Mousefur to watch her path, while Dustpelt emerged from the warriors' den with suspicious timing, his amber eyes following her with uncomfortable intensity.

"Yes, Nightshade, what is it?" the leader asked. Her voice was calm, but with a sinking feeling, Nightshade knew that the lack of warmth meant Bluestar had not forgiven her for asking about Mistyfoot and Stonefur's ThunderClan origins.

She lowered her head respectfully. "Bluestar, I was near Twolegplace earlier, and—"

"Why there?" Bluestar interrupted, her blue eyes narrowing. "Sometimes I think you spend too much time in unusual places, Nightshade. The shadows at the edges of our territory seem to call to you more than the heart of ThunderClan."

"I was tracking something suspicious," Nightshade replied carefully, aware that revealing her surveillance of Tigerclaw would create additional complications. "Anyway, while I was there, I detected several unfamiliar cats."

At once Bluestar was alert; her ears flicked up and she fixed her eyes intently on Nightshade. "How many cats? What Clan were they from?"

"At least five or six," Nightshade reported. "But they didn't have the scent of any Clan." She wrinkled her nose as she remembered. "They smelled of crowfood and carried the stink of Carrionplace—rogues rather than kittypets."

Bluestar looked thoughtful, and to Nightshade's relief, her hostility seemed to ebb away slightly. "How recent was their presence?" she asked.

"Very recent. I believe they may still be lingering around the borders," Nightshade said, carefully omitting that she had witnessed Tigerclaw meeting with them directly. Without more concrete evidence about the deputy's intentions, such an accusation would likely backfire given Bluestar's current defensive stance regarding her leadership choices.

"Former ShadowClan warriors perhaps?" Bluestar mused, her expression troubled. "Those who fled when Brokenstar was driven out?" She studied Nightshade's face intently, her gaze lingering longer than necessary. "You have keen senses, Nightshade. Keener than most cats... almost unnaturally so at times."

Nightshade maintained a neutral expression, unsure if Bluestar's observation contained suspicion about her shadow-walker abilities or something more personal. The leader had always treated her with a mixture of respect and careful distance, as if uncertain how to categorize her presence within the Clan.

"Thank you for this information," Bluestar continued. "I'll tell the patrols to keep a lookout when they go that way. I don't suppose they're any immediate threat to ThunderClan, but we can't be too careful."

"They seemed to be organized rather than simply passing through," Nightshade added, hoping to convey the seriousness of the situation without revealing too much. "It might be wise to increase border patrols near Twolegplace."

Bluestar nodded, then surprised Nightshade by stepping closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You're observant, Nightshade. Perhaps too observant for your own safety. Be careful about what you watch... and who you watch." Her blue eyes held a strange mixture of concern and warning that extended beyond simple leadership caution.

Before Nightshade could respond, Tigerclaw strode into camp, his amber gaze immediately locating her beside Bluestar. His expression darkened as he altered his path to approach them.

"Discussing patrol assignments?" he inquired, his tone deceptively casual as he positioned himself unnecessarily close to Nightshade. "I've been considering optimal territory coverage given our limited warrior numbers."

"Nightshade was reporting potential rogue activity near Twolegplace," Bluestar informed him. "We'll need to adjust patrol schedules accordingly."

Tigerclaw's eyes narrowed fractionally as he regarded Nightshade. "Strange that you were in that area alone. I don't recall authorizing any solo patrols toward Twolegplace today."

"I was hunting," Nightshade replied evenly, maintaining eye contact despite his intimidating posture. "The prey was running well near the border."

"You shouldn't venture so far from camp without protection," Tigerclaw stated, his massive form shifting subtly to loom over her. "Particularly not a warrior with your... unique qualities. Many dangers exist beyond our borders—and some within them."

This thinly veiled threat hung in the air between them, carrying dual meaning that Bluestar seemed to miss entirely.

"Nightshade is perfectly capable of defending herself," Bluestar noted with mild reproof. "But your concern is noted, Tigerclaw. Perhaps you could organize the additional border patrols we'll need?"

"Of course," he agreed smoothly, though his gaze never left Nightshade. "I'll ensure proper coverage of all vulnerable areas. Perhaps Nightshade could accompany me to identify exactly where she detected these rogues?"

"That won't be necessary," Nightshade interjected quickly. "I can mark the locations on a dirt map for the patrol leaders."

"I insist," Tigerclaw countered, his tone hardening slightly. "Precise information is critical for proper defense planning."

The conversation was interrupted by Longtail's arrival, the warrior approaching with poorly concealed eagerness. "Nightshade! I've been looking for you. I found that feather collection you mentioned wanting—all blue-gray, just like you requested." His expression carried desperate hope for acknowledgment despite the fact that Nightshade had never mentioned any interest in feathers.

"I made no such request," Nightshade replied, confusion evident in her tone.

Longtail's expression fell momentarily before rekindling with forced brightness. "Perhaps it was something you mentioned in passing? Or maybe I just thought you'd appreciate them. They reminded me of how your fur looks in certain light—that unique shadow-blue tint no other cat possesses."

Tigerclaw's growl rumbled low in his chest as he deliberately stepped between them. "Don't you have guard duty at the camp entrance, Longtail?"

"I—I thought Darkstripe was covering that position," Longtail stammered, wilting under Tigerclaw's glare.

"You thought wrong," Tigerclaw snapped. "Go."

Longtail retreated with a last longing glance toward Nightshade, his tail drooping in disappointment.

"This territory-marking behavior is becoming problematic," Bluestar observed after he departed, her gaze moving thoughtfully between Tigerclaw and the retreating Longtail. "The warriors seem increasingly distracted from their proper duties."

"I'll address it," Tigerclaw stated firmly. "Some warriors clearly need reminding about appropriate behavioral boundaries and priorities."

The hypocrisy of this statement wasn't lost on Nightshade, given Tigerclaw's own possessive behavior. She stepped back slightly from both cats, creating necessary physical space. "If there's nothing else, I should take prey to the elders. They haven't eaten since morning."

"Always so considerate," Bluestar noted with an oddly evaluating look. "Go ahead, Nightshade. But remember what I said—be careful what you observe."

As Nightshade padded toward the fresh-kill pile, she became aware of Fireheart watching her from beside the warriors' den, his green eyes following her movement with the same uncomfortable intensity she'd noted in so many of the Clan's warriors lately. When he noticed her looking back, he quickly selected a vole from the pile and approached her with artificial casualness.

"I caught this specifically for you," he offered, placing it at her paws. "It's the plumpest one I could find."

"The elders need to eat first," Nightshade reminded him, deliberately stepping around both him and the offering. "But thank you for your contribution to the Clan's food supply."

His expression fell momentarily before brightening. "I could help you take food to the elders! We could work together—I've noticed you have a special technique for carrying multiple pieces at once. I'd love to learn from you."

"I'm fine on my own," Nightshade replied, selecting two mice and a starling for the elders.

As she walked toward the elders' den, she reflected on the growing danger facing ThunderClan. Tigerclaw's secret meeting with the rogues suggested treachery that could threaten every cat in the Clan. Yet her ability to investigate and potentially prevent this danger was becoming increasingly hampered by the strange obsessive behavior spreading throughout the Clan.

Whatever shadow-touched ability she possessed seemed to be triggering unhealthy fixations in those around her—a development that complicated her traditional shadow-walker role of silent guardian. She would need all her ancestral stealth and cunning to navigate these twin dangers: Tigerclaw's treachery from within and the rogues' threat from without, all while managing the increasingly possessive behavior of her Clanmates.

The thawing snow might herald new beginnings for the forest, but for Nightshade, it promised only more dangerous complications in the shadows ahead.

Nightshade padded toward the camp with a vole clamped firmly in her jaws. The sun shone from a brilliantly blue sky, and already, two days after she'd witnessed Tigerclaw's secret meeting with the rogues, most of the snow was gone. Buds were swelling and a mist of tiny green leaves was beginning to cover the trees. More important, prey was reappearing in the forest. Already it was easier to replenish the pile of fresh-kill, and for the first time in moons the Clan was full-fed.

Nightshade arrived in the clearing to find the queens raking old bedding out of the nursery. When she had dropped her prey on the pile of fresh-kill, she went across to give them a hand, pleased to see that Cloudkit was helping too.

"I'm going to show the other kits the good moss place!" the kit mewed proudly as he staggered past with a load of bedding, his blue eyes lighting up with excessive enthusiasm at Nightshade's approach. "I memorized exactly where you showed me!"

"Good idea," Nightshade agreed. She'd noticed that even after Tigerclaw relieved him of his duties with the elders, Cloudkit had gone on helping. Maybe at last the kit was feeling some spark of loyalty toward his adopted Clan. "Watch out for badgers, though!"

"If I see one, I'll fight it off this time—just to impress you!" the kit declared with alarming determination.

Just then she saw Goldenflower emerge from the nursery, pushing a ball of soiled moss in front of her. Her belly was round with the weight of the kits she was carrying.

"Hello, Nightshade," she meowed, her eyes warming appreciatively as they ran over Nightshade's sleek form. "Isn't it great to see the sun again? It brings out that beautiful blue sheen in your fur that reminds me of shadows on water."

Nightshade dipped her head politely at the compliment, though it made her uncomfortable coming from the heavily pregnant queen. "Soon it'll be newleaf," she replied. "Just in time for your kits. If you—" She broke off and spun around as she heard Tigerclaw's voice behind her, speaking her name.

"Nightshade, if you've nothing better to do than stand gossiping with the queens, I have a job for you."

Nightshade bit back an angry response. She'd been hunting all morning, and paused for only a few moments to talk to Goldenflower.

"I want you to take a patrol along the border of RiverClan," the deputy went on, his amber eyes sweeping possessively over her. "No cat has been that way for a few days, and now the snow has gone we need to renew the scent markings. And make sure no RiverClan cats are hunting in our territory." He stepped unnecessarily close, his voice dropping to a near growl. "If they are, you know what to do—though I'd prefer to personally deal with any cat that dares disrespect what's ours."

"Yes, Tigerclaw," Nightshade mewed, deliberately stepping back to create space between them. She understood his sudden interest in sending her on patrol—it was less about border security and more about asserting his authority over her movements.

"Whom shall I take with me?" she asked.

"Any cat you like," Tigerclaw replied. His eyes narrowed slightly. "Though I expect you to return directly to report to me personally. Don't let anyone distract you from your... responsibilities to your deputy."

"No, Tigerclaw." By now Nightshade could barely keep her tone neutral; the thinly veiled possessiveness in his instructions was becoming increasingly difficult to tolerate. She mewed a hasty goodbye to Goldenflower, and headed for the warriors' den. Sandstorm was there, lying on her side and energetically washing, while Graystripe and Runningwind shared tongues nearby.

"Who's up for a patrol?" Nightshade called. "Tigerclaw wants us to check the RiverClan border."

Graystripe scrambled to his paws right away, his yellow eyes lighting up. "I'll come with you! I've been waiting for a chance to patrol with you again." His eagerness was transparent, and Nightshade noticed how he immediately positioned himself closer to her than necessary.

Runningwind got up more slowly, though his tail twitched with evident excitement. "I'll join you too," he offered, quickly moving to Nightshade's other side as if to balance Graystripe's presence.

Sandstorm paused in her washing and looked up at Nightshade. "Just when I was hoping for a bit of peace," she complained. "I've been hunting since dawn." But her tone was good-humored, and almost at once she got up and shook herself. "All right," she mewed. "I'll come along too."

Nightshade felt a momentary relief at having another female warrior join the patrol, though she'd noticed that even Sandstorm had begun watching her with unusual intensity during hunting expeditions.

"What about Brackenpaw?" she asked Graystripe, hoping to remind him of his mentoring responsibilities. "Don't you want to bring him along?"

"Whitestorm and Mousefur took the apprentices out," Runningwind explained, stepping unnecessarily close to Nightshade as he spoke. "All of the apprentices—more fool them! They're hunting fresh-kill for the elders. I'd much rather be with you than supervising apprentices anyway."

Nightshade led the way out of the camp, feeling a tingle of shadow-energy in her paws as she leaped up the side of the ravine. It felt like moons since she'd had a good run without snow to freeze her paws off, and she wanted to stretch her muscles. "We'll head for the Sunningrocks," she meowed, "and then follow the border up to Fourtrees."

She set a brisk pace through the trees, but not so fast that she failed to notice the brilliant green fronds of new bracken beginning to unfurl, or the first pale buds of primroses pushing out of their green coverings. Birdsong filled the air, and the fresh scent of growing things.

She became aware that Graystripe kept finding reasons to brush against her as they ran, while Runningwind repeatedly offered to take the lead in case of danger, suggesting that she should conserve her energy. Sandstorm simply rolled her eyes at their behavior but stayed close to the group.

Nightshade slowed down to a walk as the patrol approached the edge of the forest. Ahead of her she could hear the sound of the river, free at last from its bonds of ice. "We're almost at the border," she meowed quietly. "From here on we have to keep alert. There may be RiverClan cats about."

Graystripe stopped and opened his jaws to drink in scent from the breeze. "I can't smell any," he reported, though Nightshade noticed an unusual tension in his posture that suggested concern beyond normal patrol vigilance. "Besides, they'll have plenty of prey now that the river's unfrozen," Graystripe added. "Why should they come and steal ours?"

"I wouldn't put anything past RiverClan," growled Runningwind, moving protectively closer to Nightshade. "I'd fight any number of warriors to keep them from crossing into our territory—especially with you here."

Nightshade saw Graystripe beginning to bristle, whether at the criticism of RiverClan or Runningwind's possessive posturing, she couldn't tell. "Come on, then," she meowed hastily, trying to maintain focus on their actual mission. "Let's go." She raced away through the last of the trees and burst out onto open ground. What she saw there brought her skidding to a halt, and a chill ran through her shadow-essence.

In front of the cats, the land sloped gently down to the river—or what had been the river. Swelled by the melting snow, the fast-flowing water had burst the banks and risen until it lapped the grass barely a rabbit-length from Nightshade's paws. The tips of reeds just showed above it; farther upstream, the Sunningrocks were gray islands in the midst of a shimmering silver lake.

The thaw had certainly come, but now the river was in full flood.

"Great StarClan!" gasped Sandstorm, coming to stand beside Nightshade.

"I've never seen the river like this," Graystripe murmured, his earlier tension now explained. His eyes darted across the expanse of water with evident concern. "RiverClan's camp... it must be underwater."

"That's their problem," Runningwind stated dismissively, though he clearly didn't mind standing unusually close to Nightshade as they surveyed the flood. "At least it means they can't cross into our territory."

Nightshade stared at the water, remembering the faceless silver queen from her dream and the kits who had cried out in terror. A cold sensation gripped her heart—this wasn't merely a border issue. This was something more significant, possibly even the danger her shadow-walker senses had been warning about.

"RiverClan will be in serious trouble," she said quietly. "Their camp is on low ground near the river. Their kits and elders could be in danger."

"Why should we care?" Runningwind asked, though his tone softened as he addressed Nightshade directly. "It's not our problem."

"The warrior code says we must help kits in danger, regardless of Clan," Nightshade reminded him. "And we should at least report this to Bluestar. She needs to know about the flooding."

Graystripe nodded quickly, relief evident in his expression. "Nightshade's right. We should tell Bluestar immediately."

"I suppose," Sandstorm agreed reluctantly. "But there's not much else we can do. We can't exactly swim over there."

As they turned to head back to camp, Nightshade noticed Graystripe casting one last anxious look across the flooded territory. His concern seemed genuine, though whether it was for RiverClan generally or someone specific, she couldn't tell. Either way, the rising waters had created a new complication in the already tangled web of Clan politics—one that might force difficult choices for cats with divided loyalties.

And as the patrol headed back toward ThunderClan territory, Nightshade couldn't shake the feeling that the flood was only the beginning of the troubles about to engulf the forest.