A/N: I just wanted to inform you guys that I did another extreme power-edit on Icetail's Enemy, and ended up changing the name Dropeyes to Shiningmoon! You might've noticed but, I kinda really suck at names, and nobody liked "Dropeyes" so I decided to make it nicer. I mean, I hope it's nicer! "Shiningmoon" does have a better ring to it, does it not? And plus, since her name was originally "Moon" before it was changed in respects to the Clan, I thought it was best to add a little tribute to that in the suffix of her name. Well, anyhow, she is no longer Dropeyes. I hope you guys like the decision :)

Rays of light beamed at the entrance of the leader's den. Jagged uneven rocks looked silver against the beam of gold, offering the protected space little light even though it was morning. Icestar inhaled the cool, muddy air and then exhaled slowly, his mind racing as fast as a rabbit.

Was it right of me to do that? he thought, staring at his paw.

As he sheathed and unsheathed his claws, light gleamed off the tips of the deadly sharpness that stole the life of that prisoner-rogue one moon ago. The rogue's eyes still haunted him, gleaming hungrily.

I've killed cats before, once even breaking the law of StarClan. He remembered of the time he was an apprentice and took revenge for his mother, murdering the vicious Fallentail. But this time, it felt different! He couldn't get the image out of his head, and he couldn't stop contemplating what he'd done.

The flicker of the rogue's yellow eyes showered contempt—and what Icestar thought to be excitement—before the killing blow.

"Fox-dung!" Icestar muttered. What if he caused another war? He hadn't seen the other rogues since CloudClan chased them away, but he knew that they would be back. And if they found out he had killed their comrade, things could end badly.

Oh StarClan, what if I messed up terribly?

He sighed and looked up, almost jumping with surprise to see familiar dark blue eyes staring at him from the entrance of the leader's den. Sharpfang stood watching, his gaze cool but knowing. His shadow merged in with the darkness of Icestar's den, blocking the sun's light from entering. The deputy observed him for a moment before padding inside, his pawsteps silent on the ground.

"It's been one moon since the execution. How long are you going to regret it?" he asked, flicking his tail. "I could have done it for you, you know." He was always sharp, catching on the leader's thoughts as if they were that easy to read.

Guiltily, Icestar's paws shuffled and he tried not to avert his gaze. "I don't know." He sighed again and stood up, feeling restless now, and shook the moss and feathers from his pelt. "I could never make you do something like that, Sharpfang. Sometimes, I just feel like it wasn't the right thing to do. I took a life, and for what cost? MoonClan could be in danger because of me."

He gulped, his heart beating a little quicker than usual. Below the fear he had for MoonClan's future, he also felt guilt somewhere deep below his fur, under his skin and bones, boiling with his blood. Ravenkit was watching that day—it was the first time she'd seen death, and by Icestar's own claws. She hadn't been herself since then.

No kit is supposed to see a cat die.

Sharpfang cleared his throat, and Icestar realized that he'd drifted off again. "MoonClan will stand by any decision our leader makes."

The deputy was good at remaining stoic, and Icestar didn't know whether or not Sharpfang was saying that to make him feel better or because he actually meant it. After all, leader's word is law.

"Even the wrong ones?" Icestar murmured.

Sharpfang nodded. "As deputy, I'll let you know if I think you're wrong. And the Clan isn't necessarily under-spoken, either. We all stand by you no matter what, though, because we know you have MoonClan's best interests at heart."

"Thank you, Sharpfang, but . . . my judgements are not always the best," he pointed out sadly. "And you know that."

"This is a flaw every cat must deal with," Sharpfang said without hesitation. "It's not just you, Icestar. Don't beat yourself up for something that didn't even happen yet." His eyes gleamed with harshness and determination, making the leader feel a bit more self-assured. "And besides, Brightstar chose you to succeed her because she knew that your decisions are always made based on the interests of others. You did what you thought was right."

The whistle of a sparrow drifted into the den, followed by light chattering from his Clanmates as they left for patrols.

"We all think what you did was right," Sharpfang added, taking a step back. "But it's not right to sulk around all morning when your Clanmates are out hunting."

Icestar dipped his head. "You're right, Sharpfang. I'm sorry."

Unable to express his gratitude other than with a small purr, he brushed past his deputy and padded outside the den.

I shouldn't think about it, he realized, shaking the image of the rogue's eyes from his mind. The guilt would only slow him down, render him useless to his Clan. Even though he tried hard, however, he knew the image would still haunt him.

As soon as Icestar's paws stepped on the soft ground beyond the den entrance, he took a deep breath and felt a bit calmer. Sharpfang followed Icestar's heels and turned up next to the leader, lifting his eyes up to the bright day as well.

"See what you've been missing?" Sharpfang pointed out.

The rising sun beamed into Icestar's eyes and he squinted against it. The air tasted like fresh dew from a night of rain, heavy in the air like the pollen from blooming flowers. Birds in the trees above him whistled, flapping their wings from branch to branch—the perfect sound of the morning. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, the forest seemed much greener than it did a few days ago, with pink buds blooming all around the clearing as a sign that leafbare had finally gone. Even the trees had small buds sprouting from their dark branches, a sign of wonderful weather and new prey.

How can I be so sulky on a day like this? he thought, feeling guilty for sitting around all morning. He looked around the clearing to find that most warriors have gone out on patrol. Skypelt, who seemed to be getting better by the day, was playing moss-ball with Dewkit by the medicine den, while Silverleaf and Goldsun shared a vole by the nursery. The elders all sunbathed in the clearing, their voices immersed in conversation.

"Icestar!" some kit mewed. "Icestar, Icestar!"

He looked down to see Smokekit clambering toward him. The kit's fur was turning redder by the day, resembling his late father Ashtail more and more. Only recently had the kit began to eat prey, so he was still quite small, but the volume of his fur made him look twice his size. Strands of it stuck up at all angles, especially on his bushy tail.

It felt like only yesterday his own kits were mewling and tumbling after him, too.

"Good morning, young warrior," Sharpfang said curtly, nodding to Smokekit with a sense of importance. The kit jumped with excitement and replicated the deputy's movements.

"G'morning!" Smokekit squeaked back.

Icestar looked up to see Swiftbreeze watching from the nursery entrance, her eyes calm but glazed over. Her fur was groomed nicely, as if she'd spent her morning sharing tongues. He looked back down to Smokekit and mustered out a purr.

I mustn't dwell on past things, he reminded himself again. It only pushes me away from helping MoonClan.

"You've grown since I last saw you, Smokekit," the leader complimented. Smokekit's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Are you playing all by yourself?"

He nodded. "Suppose so!"

"Why don't you ask Ravenkit to play? Maybe she can even teach you some new games," Icestar suggested, turning around to find his daughter up on the Moonrock like usual. Her black fur seemed lighter underneath the sun's rays. Her eyes were closed, and her paws were spread out luxuriously as she sunbathed.

He suppressed the guilt that wanted to creep up from her seclusion from the rest of the Clan.

Smokekit bounded from his spot eagerly and pawed the base of the Moonrock, before calling out, "Ravenkit! Icestar said you're gonna play with me!"

Icestar watched as Ravenkit lifted her head, looking down from her spot. "Oh, is that so?" she muttered sleepily. Her tone seemed rather uninterested.

With a sigh, Icestar padded up behind Smokekit and stopped at the base as well. "Yes, Ravenkit, come down and play. You can't spend the rest of your days up on that rock!"

"Yes I can!" she instantly snapped back, turning around stubbornly.

Icestar winced at her harshness but didn't rebuke her. Usually he would have instantly disciplined her rudeness, but he didn't want to upset her, and make her feel like she had to distance herself even more . . .

"Looks like we've got a rebellious one," Sharpfang said, cutting off Icestar's thoughts. "Aren't you going to say something?"

The leader instantly realized that he was thinking about the execution again, letting the guilt creep back up like a stealthy snake. I can't think like that! he reminded himself once more, but he also couldn't bring himself to say anything back to Ravenkit.

After all, what would he even say?

"Let her be for now," Icestar decided at last. "Sorry, Smokekit. Why don't you play with Dewkit and Skypelt instead?"

"Suppose so," the kit said, his voice slightly disappointed.

As Smokekit ran off to join them, Icestar turned around and glanced back up at Ravenkit, feeling a small pang in his heart. He wished he knew how to comfort his own daughter, but he felt at a loss on what to do.

Sharpfang turned to Icestar. "I'll be going out on a hunting patrol. I didn't send a border patrol to StreamClan yet. If you'd like to lead a patrol there, it's all yours."

Icestar dipped his head. "Thank you, Sharpfang. For everything."

Sharpfang cuffed Icestar's ear affectionately and said, "No need to thank me," before heading off to find a few cats in the warriors den who had not been sent out.

He watched as his deputy left the camp, followed by Rainwhisker and Lilyclaw. His sister walked especially close to Rainwhisker, both warriors looking happy and content as they ducked underneath the camp entrance.

They don't seem bothered, he realized as they disappeared. In fact, nobody does! Maybe Sharpfang is right---maybe I'm just worrying myself for nothing.

Silverleaf padded up to Icestar when she realized that the deputy had left, and touched noses with him in greeting. He instantly felt warm and comforted by her pleasant aura, glad that she had come to meet with him.

"How did you sleep, Icestar?" she asked, tilting her head.

Icestar drew his tongue over her ear affectionately, smoothening down a patch of fur that stuck up. "Like usual. There were no dreams tonight."

"But?" she asked expectantly.

He pulled apart from her. "What do you mean, 'but?'"

She rolled her eyes. "I know when you're troubled, silly. Don't you think we've been through enough for us to know how the other is feeling?" Icestar ducked his head with embarrassment, feeling like a kit that was being scolded by his mother all over again. "So tell me, what's on your mind, Icestar?"

This time, it was her to draw her tongue over his fur, grooming it flat against his body.

He didn't want to talk, or even think about the rogue, so he sighed and spoke about his other ailment. "Well, it's Ravenkit. I'm sure you noticed how strange she's been this past moon."

Silverleaf nodded sadly. "She hasn't played much at all. And not to mention, all she does is pick fights with Shadepaw and Bloodpaw."

"That's the issue," Icestar murmured. "I think it's with what happened . . . one moon ago. She saw me doing something she shouldn't have ever seen. It's my fault she's like this. She's angry at everyone, especially at me."

He glanced back at the Moonrock to see his daughter still dozing off, her tail flicking off the edge. Below in camp, Dewkit, Skypelt and Smokekit all still seemed to be enjoying their game of moss-ball. If Ravenkit were fine, not only would she be playing with them, but also taking charge and putting her own rules in the game.

She always liked to do things her way, he thought. She never listens to anyone! And so, it hurt to see her endlessly sulk, especially when it could be his fault.

"She won't be like that forever," Silverleaf said, taking her eyes off Icestar and looking over at Ravenkit as well. "She's three moons old, almost four. In enough time, she'll be an apprentice."

"But will she be like this until she's an apprentice?" he asked, slightly concerned.

His silver-furred mate shook her head with confidence. "I'm sure she won't. She hasn't changed, she's just thinking more than she used to. Maybe you should talk to her?"

"Oh, I already tried."

"And?"

Icestar tried to suppress his disappointment. "She snapped at me. Like usual."

"You should try again," Silverleaf said, now catching his gaze. Her blue eyes shone with the same worry he had, but she seemed more knowing and confident than he. After all, a mother knows her kits best. Who was Icestar to doubt her?

"What should I say, then?" he wondered. It wasn't like she approached him much at all for the past moon, so her interests at the moment seemed completely void. He had no idea what had been going through her mind!

Silverleaf thought for a moment. "Don't talk about what's bothering her. But make sure she knows that she has nothing to be upset about . . . Alright?"

"Alright . . . it wouldn't hurt to try," he said. "Wish me luck."

He pulled apart from Silverleaf and clambered back to the Moonrock, thinking of things to say. Never in his life had he been so dumbfounded, but he supposed that this is what it's like to have kits. After all, no other kits in the past had treated him with such disrespect before! No other kits seemed to be as big of trouble-makers as his own, either.

As he reached the base of the Moonrock, he paused. What if Ravenkit didn't want to hear what he had to say?

Nonsense! Why am I being so afraid of my own kit? Icestar thought. He gathered his haunches and leaped up the den, grabbing hold of a crevice to help pull himself all the way up on the top. As he reached the flat surface, Ravenkit looked up quickly and heaved a deep sigh when she spotted her father, and plopped back down with little interest.

Oh no, she won't ignore me! he decided. But I guess I shouldn't come off as hostile, either.

"I noticed how much you like to spend your days up here lately," Icestar decided to say, watching to see if Ravenkit would get up. He noticed that her ear was angled toward him, but she didn't move or even acknowledge his words. At least she's listening. "It's a good place to watch the Clan. Brightstar, the leader before me, used to spend almost every single morning up here too."

She didn't stir. A gentle breeze rattled the trees, and soft pale light filtered through the canopy of leaves as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky. Icestar took a deep breath of the fresh air.

"You're a lot like her, you know," he murmured at last.

Ravenkit turned slowly to look at him. "Me, like Brightstar?"

He met her eyes, feeling sudden triumph that he caught her attention. "Yes, much like Brightstar."

"You're just saying that," she snorted.

He shook his head. "Of course I'm not. It's the truth! Brightstar had just as big of an attitude as you do, Ravenkit. And even though she was quite old, she always had youthful ideas on her mind that kept the Clan safe and busy."

Ravenkit's amber eyes glowered underneath the sunlight. "Like my schemes? The ones everyone hates?"

All the negative emotions Icestar felt before washed away as he remembered the leader and mentor he became so fond of. "Your mind bears quite the resemblance to Brightstar's," he said, turning his eyes up at the forest as memories of her flooded into his mind. "She didn't scheme like you, but she was a great tactician. Battles were always fought carefully, and her words at the gathering were well-formulated so that no matter what, the other Clans would know how strong MoonClan is, even at our weakest moments. She wanted cats to learn every way of survival, utilize every ability we could hone. No cat ever thought quite like her; well, except you, Ravenkit."

Ravenkit burst up from her spot, her eyes round and her demeanor kit-like once more. "But I don't understand! Whenever I scheme, it's hurts everyone, but Brightstar's schemes always helped the Clan!"

Icestar purred. "The thing is, you're still a kit. Of course you're going to do wrong, since you're still learning. But by the time you're an apprentice, you'll learn to be wise and use your mind for the best. Don't you think?"

"I mean, I suppose . . ." the black-furred kit mumbled.

"And don't you think sulking away your days is doing no good for you?" he inquired.

Even though that's what I was doing earlier, he thought, realizing how alike he and his daughter really were. Ravenkit seemed embarrassed, her ears flattened back at the mention of her sulking.

Icestar continued his speech, confident that his daughter's full attention was on him. "While Dewkit and Smokekit learn useful battle tactics and important information from the warriors and elders, you're sitting here sleeping each day. Don't you think it's time to change that? After all, your ceremony is only a little over two moons away. The sooner you prepare for it, the better warrior you will be."

She seemed to be in deep thought for a few moments, before her amber eyes lit up and she burst up onto her paws.

"You're right Icestar," Ravenkit said at last, leaning up to nuzzle him. "I'm going to make sure Dewkit still can't pin me down!"

With that, the kit leaped off the Moonrock and stumbled after her brother. He watched his kits with affection as Ravenkit unsuspectingly pounced on top of Dewkit from behind just as he was about to catch a mossball, pinning him to the ground with his face flat on the dirt.

Icestar mrrowed to himself with amusement, his spirits now lifted more than they were before. If Ravenkit could feel so self-assured, so could he. Silverleaf flashed him a nod of approval from the other side of the clearing.

As he leaped off the Moonrock with a new resolve to start his daily duties, Stonetooth and a few other warriors trotted in from the camp entrance with prey in their jaws. Stonetooth dropped a mouse onto the fresh-kill pile before trotting up to Icestar, his eyes alert.

"Icestar!" he called. "I've got urgent news."

"What is it?" Icestar asked, raising his ears with alarm. His moment of triumph seemed to wash away and worry filled into his mind all over again.

Stonetooth looked back to his patrol, and Shiningmoon, Flameheart and Hawktalon all exchanged worried looks amongst themselves. Finally, Sharptooth began to speak. "Well, I thought I imagined it, but . . . for a moment, we caught fresh rogue scent by StreamClan borders. It might have been the wind carrying the scent, but . . . I think they're back."

"What?" Icestar gasped with disbelief.

Shiningmoon padded forward, her ears flattened and eyes round with worry. "The rogues, Icestar. They could be back!"