MARTENFUR

News of the grasshopper swarm spread quickly, with Beetlestar taking cautionary actions immediately. All patrols were required to search for herbs in addition to their other tasks, as the herb supply had been dwindling dangerously low.

The canyon, though not as full of the insects as Carrion Place or the plains, had its fair share of them and Otterheart, along with the queens, worried they would get to the herb storage in the medicine den. Pebbleheart remained vigilant, but it was decided that a warrior should guard the medicine den at all times.

Take that, Martenfur thought as he performed this exact function, crushing a stray grasshopper beneath his big paws. It was the fourth one today, and he'd been sitting in front of the medicine den since dawn. The sun now hung overhead.

He settled against the heated rock to wait, hoping someone would come relieve him soon. In truth, he liked the company of the medicine cats. Otterheart could be a little scattered, but she was nice to talk to, while Pebbleheart was fascinating to observe while he worked.

His cramped muscles, however, did not appreciate the guard's post.

"Still here, are you?" came a voice from the cliff path. Moments later, a tortoiseshell appeared, grimacing slightly as she heaved herself onto the ledge.

"Surprised?" Martenfur replied, getting up to help Emberpaw. His muscles screamed at the sudden movement.

Emberpaw hissed, not accepting the help. "You're not usually one to stay still."

"Neither are you," the tom countered.

The apprentice grimaced again. "Yes, well, injuries do that to you. Beartooth wants you on border patrol."

Settling into the warm spot left by him, Emberpaw dismissed Martenfur with a flick of her tail. At the mention of her wounds, Martenfur scanned her body for signs of them, but found them hardly visible. Emberpaw would be back to normal Clan life in no time.

"Well?" The tortoiseshell hissed, seeing Martenfur hadn't moved a whisker length.

"Nice to see you too," he replied, flicking his bushy tail over her nose before taking off. A startled hiss followed him down the cliff path, where he was met by Runningheart, Palethorn and Frostfur.

"About time," commented the she-cat.

"Pleasure, as always," Martenfur replied, nudging the white warrior playfully. Glad to finally be on his feet, he turned to Runningheart next. "Where are we off to?"

"The same area where Emberpaw was attacked by Fire," the older warrior said, getting to his paws.

Palethorn took the lead, Runningheart trying his best to keep up with the senior warrior. Martenfur fell back, keeping Frostfur company. The white she-cat seemed to be in an unusually sour mood, but that did little to stop Martenfur from being his usual friendly self.

"These grasshoppers might just be the death of us," he commented, hearing a telltale crunch beneath his paws. The she-cat made a face, clearly disgusted.

"You can't tell me I'm not right," the tom continued. "At least partially."

Frostfur shook her head. "No, I agree with you." Then, in a lower voice, "Maybe StarClan's trying to tell us something but Beetlestar is just too caught up in his pride to listen."

Stunned, Martenfur did not have a chance to answer before the white warrior moved up ahead, joining Palethorn. Tongue still tied, the red-brown tabby found himself beside Runningheart.

"Doing alright?" he asked the ginger warrior. The normally jovial, energetic tom was much subdued, a weariness hanging about him.

"Like you said," Runningheart replied, swiping tiredly at an insect underfoot. "These grasshoppers might be the death of me." Uneasiness filling his stomach, Martenfur remained silent.

The patrol reached their destination quickly, approaching the six tall red rocks carefully, as if expecting a repeat of Emberpaw and Fire's skirmish. A strange scent hung about the area, a single heavy cloud hanging in the otherwise clear sky.

"We'll just take a quick tour of the place," Runningheart decided. "I'm not sure what Beetlestar wants us to look for, but if there are herbs make sure to take them with you." His tone of voice told Martenfur the tom thought their leader's ruling both strange and unnecessary.

Irked by his Clanmates' apparent disloyalty, Martenfur took to searching the rocks. Ahead of him, Frostfur sniffed at a stone before marking it with her scent. He shadowed her, checking to see if she had missed anything.

The next rock she marked had a small leafy plant growing beside it, the leaves shrivelled and brown in the heat. A single grasshopper sat atop it, pincers moving in a steady rhythm. Martenfur stood and stared at it for a moment, wondering if the insects really would tear the Clan apart, when he heard Frostfur yowl.

Nearly crashing into her as he reached the fourth stone, Martenfur's senses were suddenly overwhelmed by the scent of blood. Looking at Feostfur in confusion, he followed her pointing tail to the bottom of the tall rock.

It looked as if someone had tried to hastily bury their kill, the dry earth churned up and uneven. Moving forward carefully, Martenfur pawed at the dust, attempting to shift some of it to get a better look.

White fur spotted with crimson met his eyes first. Then, the giant gash across the cat's throat. And then the blank, staring amber eyes.

"What have you got there?" Palethorn and Runningheart had arrived, slightly short of breath.

"A body," Martenfur managed to reply as his paws scraped at the dirt.

"What are you doing?!" Palethorn hissed, pushing the younger warrior aside. "You'll get your scent all over the body! The scent of the killer might still be on him!"

Growling, Martenfur let the senior warrior push past, stumbling into Runningheart as he did so. The ginger warrior stood frozen, staring at the body.

"We should get this body back to camp," Palethorn said before turning to Martenfur. "As a reward for masking any possible scent trail, you get to dig him up."

The tabby narrowed his eyes, ears flat against his head, but did as told. The dry dirt scraped against his pads and Martenfur had no doubt they would be bleeding by the time they got back to camp.

Runningheart took pity on him, moving closer to help. Slowly, the white tom's back appeared, then his limp tail, and finally his paws, claws still unsheathed. He seemed rather small, about the same size as an apprentice.

Leaning in closer to get a better look at the gash, Martenfur's attention was instead drawn to the dead tom's claws. A single tuft of orange fur clung to his left front paw, the only remaining clue to the identity of his attacker.

"Runningheart, look - "

"We'll let Beetlestar have a look at it when we get back to camp," the warrior replied. "See what he makes of all these signs." Uneasiness returning, Martenfur swallowed back his reply.

"I'll carry the body then."

* * * * *

Martenfur noticed the tense set of Beetlestar's shoulders as soon as the patrol returned to camp and knew, with almost utter certainty, that no one else had. The black tom's slightly hunched stature was the only outward sign to betray his alarm.

"By the tall stones?" Beetlestar asked without preamble as Martenfur and Palethorn lay the body down before the Speaking Rock.

"Yes," Martenfur replied immediately. "The attacker -"

" - probably got away," Palethorn finished for him. "Our eager young warrior here got his scent all over the body before inspecting it."

A glare from the pale warrior silenced Martenfur before he could speak again.

"No other evidence?" Beetlestar pressed, keeping his eyes on Palethorn and Runningheart.

"Nothing," Palethorn confirmed.

"Yes!" Martenfur cut in again. "The tom had a tuft of fur in his front claws." All eyes suddenly turned to the tabby. Padding over to the body, he pointed his tail at the white tom's left paw.

"Martenfur, there's nothing there," Frostfur said quietly after a moment. Blinking, the tom realized she was right.

"It was there," he said. "Ginger fur caught on his claw." He turned to Runningheart for support but the tom shook his head.

"I can't truly support the claim," he explained. "I didn't get a good look at it."

Martenfur couldn't believe his ears. Beetlestar's yellow gaze met his for only a moment before the black tom turned back to Palethorn.

"I want you to take a patrol back to the stones, see if you can find anything," he said.

"You're not going to find anything." The deep growl coming from behind Martenfur made his tabby fur stand on end. Turning, two deep amber eyes met his, burning into him.

"The tom's name was Wind," Fire continued, stepping forward. "I knew him during my stay with a group of cats not far from here. They were... Hospitable enough, but some seemed uneasy. Wind was one of them."

Palethorn cut in. "So you're saying this group had him killed to strengthen their ranks." A question phrased as a statement.

"I've watched them do it before; I wouldn't be surprised if this was a similar case," Fire replied. "One of the reasons I left."

"That doesn't explain why we wouldn't find anything," Martenfur interrupted, looking around at the rest of the patrol disbelievingly. Fire made him extremely uncomfortable - surely he couldn't be the only one?

"You're not part of this 'we'," Palethorn growled. "You've done enough damage today. Go see Otterheart, the heat must be getting to you."

Stunned into silence too many times to count, Martenfur looked to Beetlestar for support. The leader only nodded his head, dismissing the tabby. Unable to help the feeling of betrayal, the warrior flattened his ears and turned away angrily.

He found a worried Leafpelt and indifferent Emberpaw sitting in front of the medicine den, both watching the scene below unfold. Martenfur settled down beside the tortoiseshell, careful to keep his distance. He didn't feel like getting reprimanded again today.

"Clearly this place isn't safe!" came Palethorn's voice from below and Martenfur felt a deep growl escape him.

"Is no one in this Clan loyal to their leader anymore?" he said.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you're accusing us," Leafpelt replied. "Our Clanmates are welcome to their own opinions, as long as they don't purposely act to betray their Clan."

"But they are acting!" Martenfur snapped back, frustration growing. "Both Frostfur and Runningheart think Beetlestar's decision to stay is wrong, and I'd bet Palethorn still does too."

"Runningheart saw his leader and littermate die before his eyes a couple of moons ago," Emberpaw pointed out. "And Palethorn and Frostfur hardly ever agree with anyone."

"But they wouldn't even listen to me when I started digging up the body!"

"You did make a mistake by covering the body with your scent," Leafpelt said carefully. "Look, everyone makes mistakes and they all probably just had a bad morning."

"But it's like they're trying to cover something up," Martenfur pressed on, frustration growing. He shifted closer to Emberpaw, lowering his voice. "There was a tuft of ginger fur in the dead tom's claws."

Leafpelt twitched his whiskers in interest at the statement while Emberpaw flicked an ear. "Who do you think it was?" she asked.

An uncomfortable, prickling feeling filled the tom. "Fire was quick to jump into the conversation down there."

Leafpelt got up with a huff. "You're reading into things too much. He probably just wanted to offer some information and help us. Maybe you really should see Otterheart." With a flick of his tail, the tabby left, joining Asternose at the foot of the cliff where she sat listening to the patrol. The whole Clan seemed to be gathering, the sight of the body drawing them near.

Gritting his teeth, Martenfur turned to Emberpaw. "You believe me, don't you?" Even to his ears, his voice sounded pleading.

"I have my own suspicions," the tortoiseshell replied vaguely, flicking an ear.

"You know something, don't you?"

Her amber eyes met his but before Martenfur could press her for information an angry hiss sounded from below. Both turned just in time to see Frostfur throw herself at Morningbreeze.

Great StarClan, the tom thought as he watched the scene unfold before him. Beside him, Emberpaw jumped to her paws, startled. She shook her head sharply, as if in pain.

"We'll die here if we stay!" they heard Frostfur screech.

"But we could also die if we leave!" Morningbreeze replied, trying to sound reasonable as she dodged her littermate's blows.

"The grasshoppers are eating everything," Badgerclaw said, hackles raised. "We'll never survive leaf bare."

"Do you doubt RockClan's medicine cats?" hissed Asternose in return. Leafpelt's tabby tail curled around her shoulders, holding her back.

"I doubt our hunting abilities - especially when there's no prey left to hunt!" Badgerclaw snarled, baring his teeth at Asternose.

"RockClan is full of great trackers and hunters," Pebbleheart said, backing up his littermate. "Everyone needs to contribute to the Clan if we're to survive and fighting is only going to weaken us!"

"You medicine cats think you can solve everything with words," Palethorn scoffed. "Sometimes, a fight is the only way to solve a problem." Even from where Martenfur stood, he could see the pale tom's claws glinting.

"Enough!" Beetlestar cried over the arguments, but his command remained unheard. Leafpelt gave a cry as Badgerclaw shot towards Asternose. With a screech, she defended herself.

Martenfur watched as his Clanmates threw themselves at each other, his blood turning red hot as he thought of their disloyalty. How could these cats betray their leader, their Clan without so much as a second thought? He sprang forward, ready to defend his Clan at the cost of his life.

"Martenfur, wait!" He stopped short, turning back to Emberpaw.

"The nursery," she breathed, amber eyes filled with alarm. "Mapleblossom's having her kits."

"Now?" he hissed. She nodded.

The fight below forgotten, the tom raced towards where Pebbleheart stood defending himself against Frostfur's taunts. Martenfur leaped, knocking the white she-cat over before turning to the medicine apprentice.

"It's Mapleblossom," he said before turning to Frostfur. "Mapleblossom's having her kits."

The she-cat's eyes, filled with bloodlust, suddenly cleared. "Mapleblossom. Kits." Then, louder, so the whole Clan could hear. "Mapleblossom's having her kits!"