Firepaw glanced up at the sky after taking another bite of his measly vole. Though the moon was covered in clouds, he could faintly make out its hazy outline. Tomorrow would be the half-moon, the night that he would meet Graystripe. And tonight, he would have to tell Violetbreeze that he could no longer take her to the barn.

   The Clan was in a panic. Four more of the rogues had been reported missing since Scorchwind was found on the riverbank. Firepaw now licked his claws proudly as Tigerstar sent out cats to search for them. Stupid furballs. You'll never find them. He had tossed their bodies in the river, just as he had done for Jayscar and Moonfang.

You're doing very well, a familiar voice purred in his ear. Soon, your Clan will be free of those mange-pelted rogues, and you can chase Tigerstar off once and for all.

Just as Firepaw was going to reply, he glanced up and saw a cat approaching. It was none other than Violetbreeze, her black and white fur neatly groomed and a bright glow in her eyes.

"Today's the day," she breathed as she past him on her way to follow her patrol. "Thank you so much, Firepaw."

The tom felt a sharp pain in his chest as she purred softly to him. I'm sorry. I can't promise you'll be safe now.

If Graystripe and the others had to leave the barn, then something must have happened. He knew that Ravenpaw and Barley wouldn't have minded them staying, especially if it was to keep them safe. He couldn't bear the thought of one of them being in danger, or worse, dead.

   Another cat's voice broke into his thoughts. "Firepaw, let's go."

   He sighed. "Yes, Tigerstar."

   The two toms padded silently through the forest, heading toward the Training Hollow. Firepaw's fur was bristled and his claws were unsheathed. Soon you won't be able to boss me around ever again.

   "Alright," the broad-shouldered tabby whipped around as he reached the far end of the hollow. A sneer was plastered on his face. "Today, we are going to practice killing moves."

   That's just what I need to finish you off.

   Tigerstar seemed surprised when Firepaw didn't exclaim loudly in protest. "We'll begin now."

                            ~~❤︎❤︎❤︎~~

"I have to say Firepaw, I'm impressed."

The ginger tom was panting, crimson blood staining his fur. Despite his disheveled appearance, he was grinning widely.

Two more down, he thought proudly as he looked at the bloody bodies before him.
Beside the two rogues was the still shape of a young warrior. Ferngash should have stayed out of my way. She knew better than to "check in on us."

"All in a day's training," the apprentice replied nonchalantly.

Suddenly, the undergrowth to their left began to crackle and swish. Instinctively, Firepaw dropped into a battle stance and bared his fangs. This is how his previous three catches had stumbled into his claws.

"Relax, kittypet," Tigerstar snorted. "Training is over for today."

Slowly, the apprentice rose to his full height, his neck fur still bristling and his claws sunk into the earth.

"Sorry to bug you, Tigerstar, but—" Runningnose let out a horrified gasp as he noticed the dead cats, which slowly turned into a whimper. After a few heartbeats, he straightened, shaking out his fur, and purposely averted his gaze from the bloody heaps of fur. "RiverClan cats met a patrol at Sunning Rocks. They're trying to make a claim to the territory. They aren't afraid of battle."

Tigerstar growled, and his own black, thorn-sharp claws were now sunk into the dirt. "They should be. This will be your next assessment, Firepaw. Show me all that you've learned."

                            ~~❤︎❤︎❤︎~~

Firepaw stared solemnly down at the battle below him. It was a frenzy of flying fur as TigerClan cats tore the other Clan to shreds. The sandy clearing was littered with unmoving bodies, and the river was flowing red with blood.

Despite their eminent failure, RiverClan reinforcements were still paddling across the river. He even saw some elders and a few plump she-cats joining the battle. They're sending elders and queens into battle? He licked his lips. Oh, this'll be fun.

   With a roar, the ginger tom leaped from his perch, landing squarely on the back of a plump cream tom. The cat collapsed under him, and didn't even manage so much as a hiss before Firepaw flipped him over and tore his throat free. Glancing up, Firepaw saw a black she-cat charging toward him. Just as she skidded under him, he leaped into the air, snapping her neck as he landed with all four paws on the ground once more. 

   Firepaw heard a distressed wail nearby. "My kit!"

   Before he could turn his head, a pale tabby crashed into him, tearing viscously at his pelts with thorn-sharp claws. He stifled a cry of pain when he recognized her milky scent. A nursing queen.

   The apprentice began to chuckle as she tore at his flanks. "Go home, Poppyshade! I smell your milk scent."

   "Just because I have kits does not mean thatI can't tear you to shreds," the she-cat spat back. "You murdered my son and daughter just now. Don't expect mercy from me."

   "Nor me." The apprentice exploded upwards, sending the plump she-cat tottering backwards. Her sagging belly made her clumsy, and she toppled down on the river's edge. Firepaw smiled, taking a threading step towards her.

   With a satisfied growl, he pinned her down. He grabbed her head with a paw and thrust her muzzle into the rushing water. He grinned down at the bubbles rising from the water as she thrashed frantically, trying desperately to break free from his grip.

   "What are you doing!?"

   Firepaw looked up as the queen went limp below him. "Graystripe?"

   "How could you? Sh-she was my new mate, Firepaw," the gray tom's voice was laced with pain; partly from grief and partly from betrayal. "O-our kits were born only a quarter moon ago. How could you kill her, Firepaw!?"

   The ginger tom's green gaze remained cold and emotionless. Graystripe took a step backward. "Who are you!?"

   "I am Firepaw."

   The sounds of the battle going on around him were drowned out by the blood roaring in his ears. Time seemed to slow down as Firepaw leaped into the air. He watched his friend's expression go from sad and angry to fearful as Firepaw barreled him into the dirt. They scuffled briefly, but the fight was over before it even began. Firepaw stood over the limp gray body, blood dripping from his chin and a crazed grin on his face. That's what you get for betraying me and ThunderClan. It's too bad that a traitor like you won't get to see your mates in StarClan. Have fun rotting for eternity, mouse dung.