Slimefoot's POV

I weaved my way around the battlefield, looking for my kits. 

Oh, the battle has left bloodshed in every direction you looked. 

Injured cats were cast around the battlefield, each covered in concerning amounts of blood. It was a terrifying sight.

"Slimefoot!" came a pitiful mew.

"Eaglepaw?" I asked, turning and seeing the little apprentice crouched behind a bush. "Are you okay?"

The little apprentice slowly limped out, her eyes wide with fear. "There was so much fighting," she said shakily. 

"I know," I said, scanning the battlefield again. "Do you know who won?"

"Owlstar called for his warriors to retreat," Eaglepaw told me. "Does that mean we won?"

"I suppose," I muttered, "But we still have a fair share of wounds."

"It was scary!" Eaglepaw whispered. "I wish there weren't any fights ever. Why can't we all live in peace?"

I snorted, but then I saw her face. "It won't ever happen until we're in StarClan, Eaglepaw. Especially not here in OakClan."

She sighed, looking at the bloodstained ground. "I wonder if StarClan would even want me in their ranks."

"Don't say that!" I hissed. "If you believe in them and were a loyal warr- I mean a loyal member of your clan, you will be accepted!"

"But my leg!" she retorted. "I'm no use with this stupid foreleg!" 

I sighed, looking at her softly. "StarClan might heal it when you get there."

Eaglepaw met my eyes sadly, simply saying, "Maybe."

She walked away.

I sighed again and scanned the wounded toms and Badgerleg- that son of Poisonstar- tending to each one.

I decided Smalleye might be in the medicine den, so I headed there. 

I froze as I entered.

My mother was on the ground, unmoving and bloody. Smalleye lay on top of her, unconscious. 

I panicked and ran up to Shortface, gently pushing my kit off. 

She had bite marks on her throat.

"No!" I shrieked, staring at her still body. "Mother! No, please wake up!" 

She didn't move.

"Mother, oh, mother!" 

I could've screamed for hours. 

Why did everyone I love have to die? First Petalpaw my kit, then my mother? 

Why?

"Slimefoot?"

I looked up and saw the fearful faces of my kits.  

I looked at them despairingly, putting my paw on Shortface's torn neck. 

"Who did it?" Marshpaw asked hoarsely, looking at my dead mother. "Who would do such a thing?"

"Anyone could've," I replied shakily, my voice starting to seethe with anger. "Any of these accursed toms could've decided that it was fun to kill someone I loved."

"But why?" Hawkpaw asked, looking at me with his bright amber eyes. "Why?"

"Because they wanted to," I snarled. 

A moment of silence.

"Get up, all of you."

It was the despicable voice of the one cat I hated the most—the stupid son of Poisonstar.

I took deep breaths and ignored him, burying my nose into my mother's fur, praying to StarClan to help me.

"Did you not hear me, she-cat? I said get up! This space is for wounded warriors only."

My kits had left.

"I am a wounded warrior," I whispered, staring at Shortface's body. "But the wounds cannot be healed by the most powerful medicine cat in the world."

Silence.

Confused, I turned and looked back at Badgerleg. I was surprised that his face was contorted with what looked like pain.

"What's wrong?" I heard myself saying.

Why should I care?

When Badgerleg finally spoke, his voice was... different. Lighter. 

"Claw... pain..."

"What the-" I gasped, stumbling back as he met my eyes.

They weren't green.

They were gold.

I blacked out. 

***

I woke up on the hard stone floor, groaning as I moved slightly. All my limbs ached as I rolled over and opened my eyes.

I was surrounded by wounded and bloody toms. The scent of herbs flooded my mouth and I nearly gagged. 

I suddenly remembered what I saw from Badgerleg.

No, it was just a dream. I just passed out from exhaustion and sadness. I snorted to myself, thinking how ridiculous I was to even think that was real. 

I yawned and rolled over once again, just to touch the wounded shoulder of Bramblestar.

I recoiled in disgust just as the leader exclaimed, "Ouch!".

"What the heck, she-cat?" he hissed, licking his wound profusely. "I was resting!"

"I didn't want to touch you!" I retorted sharply. "I don't even want to be next to you! Why are you even here?"

"I was here first!" Bramblestar growled. 

I rolled my eyes. "You sound like a kit."

"Well, you asked," he snapped. 

"Whatever," I said. "You obviously don't care."

His eyes softened somewhat. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked cautiously. "Being next to me? Wow, I didn't know characters could develop so quickly."

"No. I mean. . . sure. But what I meant was that I'm sorry about your mother."

I froze. 

He was. . . apologizing?

"Was it you?" I asked softly, meeting his eyes. I knew he wasn't likely to confess even if he had, but I wanted to hear it with my own ears.

"No," he said. "I don't know who it was. Perhaps it was a stupid LizardClan cat. Why he would attack a she-cat, I don't know."

"I just wish-" I paused as my voice broke.

"I think the killing must stop," Bramblestar said. "First Petalpaw then Shortface."

"Petalpaw wasn't killed," I whispered. "Badgerleg just let her die of blood loss."

"Which is carelessness and that carelessness led to death. In my mind, that is murder," Bramblestar said decisively. 

I was surprised to hear how firm he sounded.

"So. . . you do care?" I asked tentatively. 

"Yes, Slimefoot, I do," he replied. "I. . . just don't know how to stop it."

For the first time, I felt a pang of sympathy for Bramblestar. He actually wanted to make a difference but couldn't figure out how to.

"Perhaps you could do it slowly. Little by little," I said after a minute of silence. "Maybe they'll accept it that way."

"I doubt it," he grunted. "Those toms have a knack for detecting any forbidden kindness to she-cats."

"When did you start caring?" I asked suddenly. "I remember that when you first became a leader you made a bunch of rules about she-cats. What changed?"

There was a moment of silence.

"My father came and visited me in a dream I had," he finally said. "He said I could lead my clan to greatness if I would just start treating them right."

I slightly smiled.

"He's probably right."

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