The following night, Frog lay awake in his nest, the snores of his denmates rising up around him. Another trying day, but his mind refused to rest even though his body ached. His eyes stared at the stone walls of the den, focusing on their blankness, and he willed his thoughts to be the same.

Then, his eyes shifted to the bright shape of Swanpaw and his mind began to race all over again, curiosity getting the better of him. The conversation he'd overheard the previous night was still fresh in his mind and he found it hard to believe that the Clan would get rid of one of their own.

Yet, Sleetstar's words continued to haunt him. He'd asked Rainberry about the saying, wondering where it came from, to learn that the Clan took these 'leeches' very seriously. Eggpaw added that SeaClan's history revolved around sacrifice, usually of the weaker cats, to the seals in order to gain the favour of their ancestors.

Frog didn't want to believe it. How could anyone remove a member of their family? It was backwards, twisted, messed up.

But, his own memories of home did little to support the opposite. He remembered being weak, unwanted by the other loners of his Twolegplace, told to leave because he didn't belong. It filled him with anger just to think of it and he closed his eyes, willing the thoughts to go away.

They were replaced with Swanpaw once more. Swanpaw who lay in her nest all day, too weak to move, haunted by a past Frog knew little about. Others discussed her fate behind her back, leaving her alone to battle this inner demon. They refused to help, to try and change her fate.

Something like pity welled up inside Frog. This weak, lonely she-cat reminded him of someone he'd once known very well, someone who wished to be rescued, to be helped, to be loved. No one ever came to his aid.

Rising to his paws, mind made up, he carefully manouevred around the other sleeping apprentices, moving as silently as he could. The soft white fur rose and fell, shifting in its nest as he came closer.

What are you doing, fishbrain? the tom thought to himself, but reached out a paw all the same.

White flashed through the air before him and Frog jumped back, startled. Amber eyes met his and he held his breath, waiting for the she-cat's next move. She remained still and the two stared at each other.

"I couldn't sleep," Frog finally said. She didn't reply, but didn't avert her gaze either.

The tabby settled down beside her nest, keeping his eyes locked with hers. They showed a weariness, lids half-closed from exhaustion. It looked like she hadn't slept in days.

He quickly glanced over her body, the tangled clumps of fur doing little to hide how thin she'd become. Her ribs stuck out, making her already small form seem even smaller, as if she were just a shred of her former self.

"Are you feeling better?"

Swanpaw blinked her big eyes at him and the tom felt his heart begin to thud in his chest, a fluttering in his stomach making him feel queasy. The anxiety grew as he realized his self-appointed task might be much harder than he expected.

"Do the herbs help?"

Nothing. Sighing, he decided to take a different approach.

"Since you're not going to sleep anyway, do you mind if I talk about my... past?"

She remained silent, but a flick of her ear told Frog that she would listen.

Taking a deep breath, he began his tale. Having nothing planned, he started from the beginning, from the mother who left him out on the street, to the group of loners who took him in, through the battles he avoided and the hiding spots he still remembered, up to the moment when she caught him on the border.

Swanpaw's ears swivelled as he talked, making sure to keep his voice low so as not to wake the other apprentices. She reacted little, closing her eyes halfway through as if the story were lulling her to sleep.

But, when Frog finished, the amber gaze shone up at him once more. He thought he saw a slight glimmer in it, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by blankness.

"It's not a very good story, I know. All of the characters no longer exist," Frog said. She twitched her whiskers sadly in reply, the biggest reaction he'd gotten from her all night, and he twitched his own in return.

"Do the herbs help?" he tried again, hoping for an answer this time.

The she-cat gave a slight shake of her head.

"Does freshkill?"

An ear flicked in dismissal.

"How about this?"

A brief moment of confusion as she struggled to understand what he meant. Then, Frog saw the ghost of a smile flit across her face.

<<>> <<>> <<>> <<>> <<>>

Sleep became an uncommon treat for Frog after that night. Though both physical and mental exhaustion plagued him the following day, the knowledge that helping Swanpaw was possible made his tired state worth the trouble.

Poolheart scolded him for his lack of care and noisiness while they hunted. Boulderclaw watched him closely during battle training, and admonished him for his carelessness and lack of aim. Even Rainberry, who normally offered words of comfort, commented crossly on Frog's new cuts and scratches.

Yet, Frog spent that night, and the next, and the next, keeping Swanpaw company. Most nights, he told her stories or asked her small questions. Slowly, she began to speak, her one syllable answers soft, voice cracking from disuse. Sometimes, they sat in silence, listening to the crashing waves. He always fell asleep not long before dawn, while she thrashed about in her nest, exhaustion finally pulling her under.

Frog came to look forward to the nights with Swanpaw, the weariness of the day melting away when he entered the apprentice den. He visited her during the day, too, bringing freshkill that she slowly started to eat - just a bite at first, then more than one, until she was eating whole fish and mice.

Gannetfur noticed the change in her first. Other than Frog, Rainberry and Eggpaw, who tried to cheer his littermate up with small gifts of pebbles or shells he collected on the beach, Gannetfur was the only other cat in the Clan who visited Swanpaw; to everyone else, she had become virtually invisible. Like Frog, he brought her freshkill, often sitting nearby and impatiently waiting for her to eat, or else boasting of the MoorClan patrol he fought off or the fish he managed to catch.

Swanpaw rarely said anything to Gannetfur, but she ate the freshkill he brought her. Frog watched these scenes from a distance, wondering why his chest ached and his teeth clenched at the sight. He tried to pay it no mind, telling himself that interacting with her Clanmates was good for Swanpaw.

Believing this would bring her back into Clan life, he first coaxed her out of the apprentice den to visit the nursery, where Snowflower greeted her warmly and told Swanpaw of her soon-to-come half-siblings. He got her to visit Stormfang in the elders' den, where she listened to his stories while taking care of his ticks. Some days, he could even get her to sit in the main cave while the Clan shared tongues, drawing her into conversations with her Clanmates.

A moon later, Swanpaw approached Honeypool, her mentor, without his help. Frog watched from afar as the two talked, but let the she-cat fight her own battle. The weak, lost she-cat of the past nights vanished before his eyes, replaced by one who was strong, fierce, beautiful.

"How'd you do it?" The voice came from behind him and, startled, Frog turned to face Gannetfur.

"What do you mean?" he asked, shocked by how steady his voice sounded. The tom made him uneasy, though he no longer trembled under his hostile glares.

Gannetfur narrowed his eyes. "She never talked to me, is all."

Frog blinked, feeling the familiar ache in his chest forming. "Maybe you should try being more patient with her, then." The black and white tom grimaced, but said nothing more.

That night, just as the sun was setting, Swanpaw asked if Frog would mind going for a walk with her. Surprised, the tom happily accepted. She hadn't been out of the camp for nearly two moons now.

The light turned the gray of the cliffs a muted yellow, the jagged beach below a vivid orange and the sea itself a flickering red, as if the whole world were on fire. They walked side by side, admiring the view but talking little. Every once in a while, Swanpaw gave off a soft hiss of pain as the pebbles underfoot dug into her soft pads; Frog's own were hard and calloused from hunting and training.

When they reached the Sunset Cliffs, she stopped, sitting down on the heated rock. Silently, she stared down at the rocky beach with an emotionless gaze. Uneasy, Frog settled beside her.

The wind played with their fur, swirling around them and made their whiskers sway. Swanpaw closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, and Frog watched, a purr rising in his chest. After moons of seeing her closed off from the world and alone, the sight of her enjoying something as simple as the smell of the sea made his heart leap.

They watched the sun move closer to the edge of the earth, slowly disappearing below the waves. Its light made the she-cat's fur shimmer and her eyes glow with life, the emotionless amber replaced by a hungry fire.

She sighed then and began to speak.

"Her name was Splashpaw. She was smart, funny, enthusiastic... The littermate of Mintfang, Littlefrost and Fishpelt. We were the best of friends." Her voice cracked slightly, but she took a deep breath and continued.

"We used to play in the nursery together, always coming up with plans that got us into trouble. When she became an apprentice, I was only four moons old, and I begged her to sneak me out of the camp, just once, so I could see the sea. For some reason, I was desperate.

"One morning, we got our chance, and snuck out of camp through the main entrance. The guards on guard duty that day were too busy paying attention to each other than to their assignment. We chased each other over the Jagged Beach and Splashpaw spotted a big boulder up ahead. We decided to race there and back to the camp entrance; that way, no one would notice we were gone.

"She was quicker than me, of course, and got to the boulder before I did. Only, it wasn't a boulder." Swanpaw closed her eyes, clenching her teeth, but a sob escaped her all the same. Frog waited, unmoving, knowing what happened next but wanting her to say it all the same.

"The seal killed her with a single movement and her broken body was washed out to sea. They found me at sunhigh, still crying out her name."

Overcome with grief, Swanpaw lowered herself to the ground, sad eyes staring out across the water, as if searching for her lost friend. Without hesitation, Frog moved to her side, his fur brushing against her own. He placed his head over hers, giving her ear a soft lick of comfort.

"It was all my fault. I should have died in her place." The words were soft, carried off by the wind immediately, but the tom heard them all the same.

"Maybe it was an accident, or fate, or StarClan's wishes," he said quietly. "Besides, if you died that day, who would have caught me on the border?"

She snorted. "You remind me of her, sometimes."

"And why is that?"

"You're both... different. You don't seem to belong, but you do. I don't know anyone else who would stay up all night just to keep me company. She did the same when I had nightmares in the nursery." The tom purred, imagining two she-kits huddling in a bed of moss, telling each other stories through the night.

"Thank you," Swanpaw said suddenly. Frog felt her cold nose on his cheek, her soft tongue on his whiskers, and he felt his pelt burn beneath her touch. His heart pounded in his chest so loudly he was sure she could hear it but, somehow, he didn't care. They were past that, their nights spent together giving them an intimacy not even Frog understood.

The one thing he did understand, and wanted Swanpaw to know, he said aloud.

"I'd do anything for you."

<<>> <<>> <<>> <<>> <<>>

Swanpaw's return to her apprentice duties put SeaClan in a celebratory mood. With four apprentices in training, three newly named warriors and an expecting queen in the nursery, the Clan's prospects brightened. The freshkill pile remained stocked night after night and Rainberry's medicine storage nearly overflowed with herbs; in Frog's mind, there wasn't much the Clan couldn't celebrate.

Then, news came from the border.

Sandblaze streaked into the camp, a distressed looking Mintfang behind her, yowling at the top of her lungs, "The loners are attacking the border!" Her eyes were crazed and her pale gold fur splotched with the red of blood.

A wave passed through the assembled cats, one of fear and anger. Frog felt himself tremble at the prospect of battle, remembering the ones he fought against loners earlier in his life. The battle techniques Poolheart taught him seemed to slip from his mind at the very thought of a fight.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather before the Speaking Rock!" Sleetstar called. "Mintfang has informed me that there is a company of fifteen loners on the border, advancing quickly. We'll find strength in numbers, everyone battling except for Heroncloud, Bluefeather and Fishpelt, who will stay behind to guard camp."

Frog wanted to raise his voice in protest, offer to stay behind instead, but SeaClan's leader leaped from the rock before the tabby could speak. Thundering paws followed Sleetstar, a white, grey and blue river moving through the cave.

Frog hesitated for a moment before joining it, the cowardliness he'd once known returning to him. For moons, this feeling of being afraid had disappeared and only now did he feel its impact once more. Fishpelt's eyes narrowed, noticing his uncertainty, and the cold glare reminded Frog of his first days with the Clan when he was a wanderer, a prisoner, a traitor.

He raced headlong over the rock of SeaClan's territory, towards the Twolegplace border. Beside him, Swanpaw kept pace, her fur brushing against his own. On his other side, Eggpaw's determined expression helped to calm the tabby and he donned his own.

It faltered when he noticed Gannetfur, his gaze untrusting and stiff. The warrior bared his teeth when their eyes met, mouthing words that made Frog's heart race. Mouse-heart, coward, traitor.

The trespassing loners caught sight of SeaClan then and the tabby tore his eyes away from the warrior. His heart rose into his mouth, eyes widening at the sight of the enemy, and he felt himself slowing down, fear making his paws falter. The wall of teeth and claws made him want to turn tail, resort to the one technique Poolheart never mentioned during training but one he knew all too well: flight.

It happened so quickly, Frog barely had time to unsheath his claws before he found himself duelling a loner twice his size. He felt himself bristle in terror, the huge mass of black fur before him rising up to crush him. Its sharp claws glinted and Frog dodged them clumsily. He desperately tried to remember something, anything, Poolheart taught him in practice, but his mind remained blank.

The loner's next blow caught him on the shouler and Frog buckled beneath the weight of it's paw. He felt the tell-tale shivers coming up his spine, the ones that immobilized him and reduced him to nothing more than a useless scrap of fur.

He felt a weight drop onto him, the body of the black tom pushing him into the ground. His claws dug into Frog's shoulders, disappearing into the flesh and drawing blood. Unable to move, the tabby yowled in pain, heart pounding, knowing this to be the end. His thoughts told him to give up, to surrender, but something deeper within him rejected them.

A flash of white in the corner of his eye reminded him of why he needed to fight back.

Bunching his muscles beneath him, it took all of his strength to lift himself up in the air, shifting the giant loner off of him. With most of the weight no longer on his body, Frog spurred himself forward, kicking out his back legs and making contact with the loner's side. It hissed, already back on its paws, but this time the tabby turned to face it.

The fear continued to hammer away at him, reducing bravery to nothing but a shred. Yet, when the loner lunged once more, the will to live reared up inside of Frog and he reared up with it, leaping over the tom's form and dragging his claws along its back.

Landing shakily on the other side, he heard the loner yowl in pain, but the tabby's attention were now focused on a new cat. Before him stood a small brown she-cat, about his own age, fur matted and nose criss-crossed with scars. She looked somewhat helpless, a lost look in her eyes, and Frog hesitated for just a moment, recognizing it as a mirror of his own.

He waited too long and her claws tore at his ears. Hissing, Frog parried her blows, careful to keep his balance as the she-cat pushed him back. In an effort to gain some ground, he lunged for her. She disappeared faster than he could blink, his unsheathed claws grasping at thin air.

Then, a searing pain ran through him as claws raked across his side. Howling, Frog turned to face the she-cat but, once again, she was gone.

He suddenly felt a weight on his back, claws digging into his shoulders, and he twisted, hoping to knock her to the side. She held on tightly, jumping at the last moment, and landed over top of Frog, the white of his belly exposed to her. He realized he'd made a fatal mistake.

Black spots danced in front of his eyes, the pain as she scored his underside more intense than anything he'd ever felt before. The white fur on his belly turned a sickly red, the metallic scent rising to his nose as he struggled to throw her off.

The she-cat disappeared suddenly, replaced by the familiar face of Poolheart. Brown fur stuck out from between her fangs, her nose stained red with blood.

"Stick to the perimeter, we don't want to lose anyone if we can help it," she said before rushing off into the thick of the battle. Frog lay on the ground for a while more before rising carefully to his paws and moving awkwardly away from the main battle.

Another cat stopped him.

"Running away, are we?" Gannetfur's claws dug into Frog's throat, pushing him to the ground.

"It's not what it looks like," Frog said, his aching body giving way to the tom's weight. The trembling returned as he stared up at cruel amber eyes.

"I'm sure it isn't," he replied. "But they won't know that when I tell the story."

Black began to edge Frog's vision, the image of the tom growing darker and darker as his claws pressed in further. The tabby gasped for air, short useless bursts that did little to keep him alive.

"You don't belong here; you never did. I'll tell them who you really were - a weak, cowardly traitor, who used Swanpaw to gain the Clan's favour."

Gannetfur's words sounded distant, hardly registering in Frog's mind, but the name grew in volume, filling his head with its sound. Many things drove him to help her: pity, selflessness, love. Everything he did was for her. The way Gannetfur twisted his motives into selfish ones angered him, a fire lighting up inside, and the darkness slowly edged away as Frog pushed back, lifting himself off the ground.

The black and white tom hissed, trying to keep his paws on Frog, but the tabby bucked him off with his hind legs. The movement caused Frog to cry out in pain, the wound in his stomach tearing.

He rose to his paws as quickly as he could, dodging Gannetfur's renewed attack. If he died today, he wanted Swanpaw to know.

The main battle still raged, a blur of colour and flashes. Frog spotted her familiar white pelt quickly, but froze when he caught sight of the black loner. Dark against light, the two thrust their claws into each other's fur, jabbing and diving in an effort to unbalance the other. The tom seemed even larger now than when Frog was locked in battle with it, especially against Swanpaw's small frame.

It swiped its paw over Swanpaw's muzzle as Frog watched, paws trembling. She let out a pained cry, a crack sounding when she hit the ground. The tom loomed over her, paw raised, ready to kill. Terror washed over the tabby; he knew how this scene ended.

Frozen paws took action, launching him into the air as instinct took over. Swanpaw's beautiful eyes widened in shock, his name escaping her mouth just as the loner's claws descended.

I told you I'd do anything, he thought before everything disappeared.

A/N: I've entered this in the 'short story' category for Warriors Watty Awards 2015! Wish me luck :)