Rain poured down from the sky in relentless sheets. The silhouettes of far-stretching branches lashed their arms against the lightning-streaked sky, leaves fluttering away in a violent gale.

Silverpaw stumbled numbly through the woods. Her face, her pelt, and her heart seared in pain. A fresh scar ripped across the flesh over her tightly shut eye, stretching all the way down to her jaw. It dripped a thick crimson, and the many other injuries battering her fur matched the scarlet ooze.

The night had dragged on agonizingly once Owlpaw had been murdered. Every will Silverpaw had to fight vanished alongside the light in his eyes, and she simply sat, as limp as fresh-kill as the rogues beat and battered her. The brown tom, the one whose claws were stained with Owlpaw's blood, took great pleasure in ripping his claws through her face, until at last he commanded his lackeys to let her run free. Of course, his underlings chased her back to RiverClan land. Where else would they send her?

Silverpaw could recognize the area around her, yet at the same time, she could not. Her suffering and the never-ending downpour of rain fogged her mind, and though the landmarks were familiar, she couldn't quite place where she was.

She tipped her head weakly to the sky. For the hundredth time, she asked StarClan the question that deafeningly raced through her mind: Why? Why did you let Owlpaw die, and not me?

Though her ancestors offered no answer, she still pushed on. Every step she took sent agony lancing through her bones, and she struggled to keep off her right paw while her scratches burned from the harsh assault of rain. Behind her, a crimson trail blazed her path through the forest. No matter how badly she simply wanted to stop and give up, she knew that Owlpaw would want her to keep pushing. If she weren't to survive the night, his fight to save her would've been pointless. At the very least, I need to warn the Clan.

A sudden flash of lightning zigzagged through the sky, lighting up the forest in a blinding white. It was followed immediately by a deafening roar. In her blindness, Silverpaw stumbled over a root. Her body flipped, and with a loud splash, she completely submerged in a puddle of mud. Sopping dirt filled her nose, sweeping over her body and piercing her injuries. She flailed around, struggling to discover which way was up.

Her head broke the surface and she gasped in the wet air. She pulled in heavy breaths, her body trembling as she desperately tried to rise to her paws. Her legs completely gave way, and she collapsed with a sucking splash.

The puddle of mud wasn't terribly deep, and her paws touched the bottom as once again she tried to rise to her trembling paws. Her heart scampered with panic and fear, but she forced herself to try once more to escape.

Her paws scrabbled against the muddy levee, yet she couldn't find any solid footing on the slippery incline. Tears sprang from her eyes as she realized that she was stuck. The only noise to comfort her was the rush of rainwater slamming the earth, and hopelessly, she rested her muzzle against the muddy bank.

Her eyelids fluttered. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon her weakened body, and though she tried desperately to stay conscious, the pull of sleep overwhelmed her. The panic, fear, and desolation of that horrendous night plagued her thoughts as darkness crept in around her, dragging her away from reality.

❀

"I smell blood!"

A voice broke through the air. Silverpaw stirred, her movements weighted by the heavy, sticky mud. The sludge oozed beneath her fur and deep into her injuries, which throbbed agonizingly. She groaned.

Grasping her claws around a string of willpower, she squeezed open her unwounded eye. The sky above her was still dark and stormy, giving her no hint to the passage of time. Rain drizzled against her eyelashes, and she flinched at the gentle impact. Then, a flash of red fur darted along the corners of her vision.

"Great StarClan, it's Silverpaw!"

Feet squelched against the ground as two cats approached the puddle of mud. One trod with caution, while the other scampered with urgency. The warriors leaped upon a gnarled root and peered down at the submerged apprentice. Through blurry eyes, Silverpaw recognized the red fur of her mentor, Sorrelmouse, and the gray fur of Stonefur.

Silverpaw tried to move, but her body was so weak that even the mild attempt made her tremble. She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut. She felt so helpless, so useless. The exact opposite of what a RiverClan warrior should be. And on top of that, her brother was dead. Dead. The word echoed through her mind and shook her to the core.

Sorrelmouse stretched her neck down and touched her wet nose to Silverpaw's. The apprentice winced at the contact.

"How did you get yourself into this situation?" Sorrelmouse scolded softly, her voice sounding much like that of a worried mother.

Silverpaw couldn't bring herself to answer and instead squeezed her eyes tighter. She didn't want to hear about how foolish she was. Oh, StarClan, she already knew just how terrible of a decision she'd made.

Unaware of the war in the apprentice's thoughts, Sorrelmouse leaned carefully over the edge of the root and firmly grasped Silverpaw's scruff. Her claws dug gratingly into the bark as she fought to keep her grip.

The mud sucked at Silverpaw's body as the red warrior heaved. Stonefur quickly joined Sorrelmouse to help, sinking his claws gingerly into Silverpaw's fur and pulling.

The apprentice remained still as the two warriors hauled her out of the small pit. She was gently lugged to the ground, and she winced as pain lanced through her jostled injuries. Mud caked her pelt like a mossy tree, so dense that it felt like she was still completely submerged even once there was solid earth beneath her.

Sorrelmouse coiled around the silver apprentice and began briskly grooming her fur. Silverpaw's trembling gradually eased under the comforting rasps of her mentor's tongue, and she twisted her head to bury her muzzle in Sorrelmouse's red fur.

More pawsteps pounded against the muddy floor. Silverpaw cracked open an eye. Another pair of cats emerged from the underbrush.

"Have you found Owlpaw?" Sorrelmouse asked urgently, flipping her head around to stare at the newcomers.

A beautiful, long-furred ginger she-cat approached. "We have, but he's not in good condition. He was on the outskirts of our hunting grounds. He... wasn't alive." Heatfur's amber eyes flickered to the trembling Silverpaw, and she swallowed uncomfortably. "Dappledfang is bringing him back to camp."

Sorrelmouse closed her eyes wordlessly for a moment, before she turned and gave Silverpaw a soft lick between the ears. "To your paws, now," she mewed softly. "We need to get you seen by Wishfern."

Silverpaw looked over at Sorrelmouse with glazed golden eyes. The warrior leaned forward and touched her nose comfortingly. "It's going to be okay," she vowed.

Sorrelmouse stood up. Silverpaw weakly tried to follow, but her legs would not respond, merely sliding against the mud with an overwhelming ache. Her right paw completely gave out, and she collapsed. Sorrelmouse's brow knitted together.

"Let me carry her," Heatfur offered.

Sorrelmouse nodded. She, Stonefur, and the third cat, Wolfpounce, carefully picked up Silverpaw and hauled her onto Heatfur's rain-slicked shoulders. The large warrior shifted slightly to ensure that Silverpaw wouldn't slip. Silverpaw dug her claws lightly into the she-cat's thick fur and buried her nose in her pelt. The fish-tainted scent of her Clan filled her lungs and showered her mindless thoughts with comfort.

Heatfur began to trek through the rainy terrain, the other three warriors padding closely and periodically checking on Silverpaw. Every step jolted through the silver tabby's bones, and she sank her claws deeper into the warrior's pelt with every throb of pain.

At last, the group arrived at camp. Silverpaw had periodically slipped in and out of consciousness during their journey, and her deepest wounds had reopened and bled profusely. Stonefur slipped through a tangle of bushes and into the well-hidden medicine den.

Heatfur lowered to the ground and rolled Silverpaw carefully from her shoulders, where the silver apprentice lay unwilling to move. Even the slightest twitch of her fur brought sheer agony. She closed her eyes.

Furious voices erupted in the air. Silverpaw blinked open an eye. From the nausea and migraine that swept over her, she realized that she had dozed off again. She groaned and heaved onto her stomach, tucking her paws sorely beneath her as she searched the clearing.

"...of course she did!" A voice snarled. Silverpaw's eyes traveled to the source, and she immediately recognized the pale tabby pelt of her mother, Lionpoppy. Relief rushed over her like the waves of a tumultuous river, and she tried, yet failed, to hobble to her feet. "You know just how excellent a fighter Owlpaw is. It's the only explanation!"

"Do you have bees in your brain? They both reek of rogues!" Silverpaw's eyes flashed to the other source. It was Wishfern, standing a few tail-lengths away from her and blocking the path of Lionpoppy. Her feathery white fur was bushed out in fury as a flash of lightning lit up the sky. "Move right this instant, Lionpoppy. I must take her to my den."

Lionpoppy shrieked, "How dare you try to heal a murderer!"

She lunged. Her claws flashed through the air, and she snatched them deep into Wishfern's light fur. Without a sign of remorse, she flung the medicine cat to the ground. Mud smeared against Wishfern's beautiful white pelt. Whirling around, Lionpoppy surged towards Silverpaw. The apprentice's heart scampered. Her muscles trembling, she barely managed to haul herself to her paws.

"M-Mother!" She cried out, her eyes as wide as twin moons. "What are you doing?"

"Don't you dare call me your mother!" Lionpoppy yowled. She raised her claws to the air, hooked and vicious. Droplets of rain slivered down to the tips, glittering in the scarce moonlight.

Her arm swung down. Silverpaw cried out as her chest seared with pain, and she scrambled backwards, fear shining in her eyes as she fell to the ground. She glanced down in horror. A large gash stretched from her shoulder and across her chest, missing her throat by merely a hair. As she looked up, Lionpoppy raised her claws again.

Silverpaw cowered as best as she could, her tail tucking close and her ears pinning back.

Before Silverpaw's mother could deliver the next blow, red fur flashed across her vision. Sorrelmouse tackled the tabby warrior to the ground. The two cats writhed around in a screeching mess of teeth and claws, pummeling one another like savage rogues. Lightning flashed and blood flew. Cats peered out of their dens, their eyes wide at the chaos amid their own Clan.

Pinestar burst into camp. His eyes sharpened as they alighted upon the vicious scene. "Stop this instant! What is the meaning of this?"

Sorrelmouse immediately released Lionpoppy, spitting at the pale tabby and batting her away as she lunged again. At last, Lionpoppy gave up on her efforts, her flanks heaving for breath. Both of them had bloody clumps of hair missing, and their eyes shared a murderous glint.

Pinestar's eyes flickered to Wishfern. The medicine cat had finally heaved to her paws. She muttered her quiet thanks to Heatfur, who gently cleaned the scratch on her flank.

"Lionpoppy has gone insane!" Sorrelmouse yowled, her tail whipping furiously behind her. "She attacked Wishfern and tried to murder Silverpaw."

"Wishfern tried to help that sorry excuse of an apprentice! Silverpaw killed her brother in cold blood," Lionpoppy snapped in return. "She deserves nothing but the cruelest of punishment, and if that means dying by my own claws, then so be it."

"Silverpaw would never kill Owlpaw! She loved him dearly."

The two warriors stood only a whisker-length away from each other, their hackles raised and spines arched. It would only be an instant until they fought again.

"Lionpoppy!" Pinestar bellowed. "Come with me to my den, now."

"But—"

"No buts," the leader snarled. He lashed his white-tipped tail and swept towards a large, gnarling willow tree. Its fronds waved furiously in the howling storm.

Lionpoppy's tail drooped, but she reluctantly followed her leader away. She shot a glance over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed into a furious glare at Silverpaw. The apprentice shivered.

"Come with me," Wishfern gently murmured, nudging Silverpaw to her feet.

Silverpaw stumbled with a grimace, ripping her eyes away from her mother's retreating figure. Tenderly lifting her paw, she leaned against the medicine cat's shoulder. Wishfern guided her through a cluster of bushes and into the medicine den. The blood that leaked from Silverpaw's injuries stained her muddied fur red.

"Lick your wounds clean," Wishfern instructed, guiding the apprentice into a nest.

Silverpaw obeyed quietly. She rasped her bristled tongue across the injuries she could reach until Wishfern hurried back over. In her paws was a sticky pulp and a swathe of cobwebs. The medicine cat rubbed the substance into Silverpaw's injuries. She winced at the sting, but didn't move any further than that.

Once Wishfern finished applying the medicine, she wrapped the injuries in cobwebs. Where Silverpaw's injuries bled the most, she pressed her paws firmly against them to ease the bleeding to a lighter flow.

Wishfern removed her paws and sniffed at the apprentice's fur until she was satisfied. Afterwards, she dipped into the corner of the den where she fetched a pawful of seeds and leaves. "Eat these," she instructed, passing the small bundle of items to Silverpaw.

Obediently, Silverpaw lapped up the seeds and munched on the leaves. Her face screwed up at the bitter flavor that caught in her throat. She felt a sway of dizziness and drew her paws beneath her.

"The poppyseeds and thyme will help you sleep and ease your shock," Wishfern's voice sounded distant as she spoke, turning her nose to inspect Silverpaw's paw. "I'll check your wounds again in the morning."

Silverpaw blinked slowly in response, curling in on herself. Subconsciously, she drew her paw away, hardly registering Wishfern's disappointed tsk. She tucked her nose under her tail and squeezed her eyes shut, sniffling as Owlpaw's face flashed through her memory. Her brother. A cat she could never part with since the day she was born. A cat she would never see again, all because of her faulty decision to leave camp in the middle of the night.

If I never made Owlpaw leave camp with me, he would still be alive, she realized sadly. Lionpoppy is right. I am a murderer.

Agony surged around her like a wall of needles, but its origin was not from her wounds. It surfaced from her memories. Owlpaw's terrified golden eyes flashing, his soundless yowl, and finally, his last breath hitched in a sputtering mouthful of blood.

With the horrors of the night tainting her mind, Silverpaw at last succumbed to her exhaustion.