I have to stay here and bury her," he whispered. "Here, between RiverClan and ThunderClan. After this, not even her own Clan will want to mourn her.

are my light and you gide my way

Now Darkstripe,' Graypaw hissed to Firepaw under his breath, 'is neither young, nor pretty.

"Welcome to our camp!" Blackstar called, beckoning them with his tail. "Rest here and take your pick of the fresh-kill pile." "Who are you and what have you done with Blackstar?" Lionblaze muttered.

Fireheart tensed, waiting for whatever had hunted down these apprentices to emerge from the trees and attack, but nothing stirred. Feeling as if his legs hardly belonged to him, he sprang down and stumbled across to Swiftpaw. The apprentice lay on his side, his legs splayed out. His black-and-white fur was torn, and his body was covered with dreadful wounds, ripped by teeth far bigger than any cat's. His jaws still snarled and his eyes glared. He was dead, and Fireheart could see that he had died fighting.

Oh yes. Blood is everything. But the only blood I'm interested in flows from my enemies. Look around you! These cats are bathed in blood. It soaks their fur and laps at their paws. This is the way we survive! We are BloodClan!

The water is calm, but the currents pull beneath the surface. Though they can’t be seen, they have the power to drag cats to their deaths.