Wolfshadow's POV

I was tussling with my cousins, their playful squeals filling the air, when I noticed my father entering the clearing, his shoulders weighed down, and Snowdrop walking beside him, his eyes cast downward, paws stained with blood. I blinked, a cold prickle of worry slipping into my chest. Snowdrop's usual brightness was gone, replaced by a sadness that hung heavy in the air.

My cousin Mistkit perked up immediately, her excitement bubbling over as she leapt toward her father. "Father!" she yowled, racing over to him, but Fireheart stepped in her path, his voice low and gentle. "Let your father rest, little Mistkit. He'll be with you soon."

With that, Fireheart led Snowdrop away, his gaze somber, leaving us behind with questions tangled in our hearts. I shared a worried look with Sandstorm, her eyes reflecting the same unease gnawing at me. What was happening to our family? First, I'd found my mother with blood smeared across her muzzle, her spirit distant and broken, and now Snowdrop had returned the same way, worn and troubled.

I sighed, twitching my tail as a sense of dread tightened in my chest. Before I could say anything, Dogsoul padded over and touched his muzzle gently to my head, his voice steady and comforting. "I'm sure it'll be okay soon," he murmured.

I gave a soft hum in response, wanting to believe him, to hold on to the hope he offered. But deep down, something told me that whatever shadow had fallen over our family wasn't about to leave us anytime soon.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

I was stretched out in the sun, feeling its warmth seep through my fur, when Fireheart's shadow fell over me. "Wolfshadow," he murmured, his tone soft but heavy. I looked up, meeting his intense gaze. "Yes, Father?"

He flicked his tail, gesturing for me to follow. Without a word, I rose and padded after him, my curiosity mounting with every step. As we entered the clearing, my heart stopped. There, cradled between the elders, was Snowdrop's mate—Cinderpelt, her body limp and frail, blood still matting her fur. I froze, a tremor rippling through me as I took in her injuries, the bitter tang of blood thick in the air.

"What... what's happening?" I stammered, feeling my paws rooted to the earth.

Fireheart's gaze hardened, his expression a mix of grief and unyielding resolve. "Cinderpelt was attacked by Tigerstar," he said, his voice low but fierce. "It's time we teach that scoundrel what happens when he messes with ThunderClan." His eyes burned with a fire I rarely saw. "Go fetch Bluestar."

The command snapped me into action, and I tore away, racing through the camp with my heart pounding. I knew that this was more than vengeance—this was for Cinderpelt, for the family Tigerstar had shattered. And as I ran to find Bluestar, a fierce determination burned within me. This was a fight for all of us, and I would do whatever it took to protect my Clan from the darkness that threatened us all.

I found Bluestar basking in a patch of sunlight, her gray-blue fur glowing softly under its warmth, her eyes half-closed in serene oblivion. She hadn't yet noticed the turmoil back in camp, hadn't seen Fireheart's return or Cinderpelt's broken form laid in the clearing. Her blue eyes flicked open as I approached.

"Ah, Wolfshadow," she greeted, her voice calm, as if it were just another day. I dipped my head, but my tail hung low, weighted with anger and urgency.

"Bluestar, we need to attack ShadowClan. Tigerstar has gone too far; he attacked Cinderpelt."

She snorted dismissively, her expression hardening. "So what? It was bound to happen. After Hareheart turned her back on him, what did you expect? Now he wants nothing less than ThunderClan's ruin."

I stared at her, my mouth falling open in shock. "Don't you care that one of your medicine cats was nearly killed? Tigerstar is our enemy—and he... he raped Hareheart!"

For a heartbeat, Bluestar was silent, her gaze darkening as she processed my words. But then she shrugged, a bitter look crossing her face. "What Tigerstar did was monstrous, yes," she said, her voice low, almost resigned. "But don't you see, Wolfshadow? He's been consumed by hatred, and he will stop at nothing. But if we retaliate now, if we let his malice drive our actions, we'll lose our focus. We'll lose what makes us ThunderClan."

I clenched my teeth, the injustice clawing at my insides. "But we can't just let him get away with this," I insisted. "Cinderpelt deserves justice. Hareheart deserves justice."

Bluestar's gaze softened, though her expression remained guarded. "Justice will come, Wolfshadow, but it must be on our terms, not his. We'll defend ThunderClan when the time is right, with the strength of unity, not vengeance."

Her words left a bitter taste in my mouth, but somewhere in her eyes, I saw the weight of her decisions, the fear of the darkness Tigerstar cast over us all. With a reluctant nod, I turned to return to the clearing, but a steely resolve grew within me. If Bluestar wouldn't act, then I would be ready to protect my family, my Clan. I would be ready to stand against Tigerstar and his cruelty—no matter the cost.

I settled beside Cinderpelt's body, my heart heavy with grief as I watched the elders work around her. Her once vibrant form was now still, her fur matted with blood that stained the ground beneath her. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and something far more unsettling—death. The weight of it pressed on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Leafpool, a former medicine cat who had always been a steady presence among us, crouched near Cinderpelt. She was no longer in her full medicine cat role, but her expertise was still invaluable in moments like this. She glanced up at me, her gaze distant, yet focused. "She has a large wound in her abdomen," she said softly, flicking her tail in visible frustration. "It's deep, and I don't have any herbs here that can heal this. Not without something more potent, and we're out of supplies."

I felt a growl rumbling in my throat, a sense of helplessness mixing with raw determination. "We have to fix her!" I nearly shouted, my voice thick with desperation. "We need to save her, Leafpool! My big brother will be devastated if we don't!"

Leafpool's amber eyes softened with understanding, but there was a shadow of sadness in them as well. She nodded slowly. "That's true," she murmured, her voice quieter now. "If he goes completely into shock, there's no one left to care for the rest of us. You know that." She turned her gaze away from me, her eyes scanning the clan. Bearstrike, my sister , was standing not far away, speaking in low tones to Mistkit and Sandstorm. I could see the worry written on his face, but it was more than that—his strength was evident in the way he held himself, even in the face of a crisis.

Leafpool sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly under the weight of the situation. "I wish there was more I could do."

I looked over at the clan again, my eyes searching for something that might help, anything that could change the tide of this terrible moment. My thoughts swirled, and as if an idea struck me, I quickly turned back to Leafpool. "Has my sister shown any interest in medicine or herbs?" she asked suddenly, her voice sharp but kind.

I hesitated, glancing over at my sister, who was sitting quietly by the elders, her small face set in a frown. My heart ached for her, for everything she had to endure. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to meet Leafpool's gentle gaze, knowing the answer before I even spoke it. "No," I admitted, my voice a quiet whisper. "She's never been interested in that sort of thing. But I can ask her. I'll try, Leafpool. I'll talk to her."

I felt a weight settle on my shoulders—this might be the only chance to save Cinderpelt, to give my brother something to hold onto in the wake of this disaster. I couldn't afford to fail. Not this time.

I padded over to where Bearstrike sat, nestled against Sandstorm's neck. His broad shoulders were tense, his usual confident demeanor clouded by the heavy silence of the moment. He looked up at me, confusion in his eyes, as I approached.

"Wolfshadow, what's happening?" he asked, his voice thick with concern.

I swished my tail, feeling the urgency of the situation pressing down on me. "We need you to become a medicine cat," I said, my words quick, the desperation clear in my voice.

Bearstrike blinked in surprise, his expression one of disbelief. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could form the words, Sandstorm stepped in, her eyes flashing with concern and protectiveness. "She hasn't been trained for that!" she protested, her voice sharp, her tail lashing in agitation. "Bearstrike's never been prepared for this kind of role, Wolfshadow. How can you expect him to take on such a responsibility now?"

Her words stung, but I knew she was only looking out for him. Sandstorm had always been fiercely protective, especially when it came to Bearstrike, her kit. She didn't want him to be thrust into something so important—something that could be overwhelming and dangerous—without proper training.

"I know," I said quietly, my gaze shifting to Bearstrike. "But Cinderpelt's wounds... they're too severe, and Leafpool can't manage it alone. We don't have the herbs or time to get them. Bearstrike, we need you." I met his eyes, my voice a little softer now, but the urgency still there. "You have the heart for this. Your strength and your courage... we need that now more than ever."

Bearstrike looked between Sandstorm and me, clearly torn. His fur bristled in unease, and I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He had never considered the idea of becoming a medicine cat—he had always been a warrior, a protector. This was something entirely different, something that would change everything.

"I... I don't know if I can do it," he murmured, his voice low, unsure.

I stood firm. "You don't have to do it alone. We'll help you, Bearstrike. You have what it takes. Right now, the clan needs us—more than ever. And Cinderpelt... she needs us."

Sandstorm didn't say anything at first, but I could see her expression soften, the protective fierceness in her eyes giving way to something more reluctant—a quiet understanding. Bearstrike was the only one who could step into the role now, whether he was ready or not. And deep down, I think she knew that, too.

Bearstrike finally nodded, a quiet resolve settling in his features. "Alright," he said, his voice firming. "I'll do it. For Cinderpelt. For the clan."

And in that moment, I knew we had made the right choice, even though it was one born out of necessity rather than preparation. We would make it work. Together.