Let it go, let it roll right off your shoulder
Don't you know, the hardest part is over

<sub>The sun was setting. Activity was dying down in the camp as cats settled down for the night. Patrols had returned with nothing suspicious to report and every cat was longing for their nest after the long day they had worked. All except for two. Evening, especially on every fourth day, always brought two cats together. The unmistakable tom sat quietly, gazing out onto the lake's undisturbed surface, smooth and unbroken other than the gentle rises of tiny waves caused by an almost non-existent wind. The tom's eyes were tinted orange and growing darker with each passing second the rays of daylight slipped away to make way for the moon. Blood seemed to seep into the male's eyes as moments passed. A small, tiny island barely big enough for grown cats to lay, just off the shore of the island in which the clans gathered one a moon. the grass was tall, taller than RiverClan's deputy himself. It was a safe meeting spot, free from the prying eyes that thought something was going on between the new deputy and his much younger friend. It was nothing more than a simple friendship. They met on this tiny island every four days to talk privately, seeing as both of them could not talk else where without others listening in on the conversation. He didn't know that soon it would be more, though.

It was always like this. The deputy was the first to this meeting spot. She was always last, but never too far behind him. She normally came right after the very last ray of sunlight disappeared behind the distant mountains. Something told the patient tom it would be no different, so he took the time to enjoy the sun's last warm rays on his silver fur. The light spread across his strong chest, dying his fur a rich copper and for a moment, he seemed like a twin of his sister, Autumnstep, if it weren't for the massive bat-wing-shaped scars over his shoulders. Plus the fact Autumnstep was thought dead. A rare smile touched his lips as he watched the sunset, waiting patiently as ever for the return of Winter...</sub>

Let it in, let your clarity define you, in the end
You will only just remember how it feels

Blood opened his eyes. Dark tangerine pools watched as the last few rays slipped away. The copper tint to his pelt slipped off slowly, as if it were hesitant to leave him, but left behind Blood's trademark eyes. The red water slowly bled blue once more and night completed its transition. Blood turned, sharp features soft and placid as his eyes were glued to the very spot Winter appeared every time. Bloodclaw didn't know if she knew how repetitive she was. But he liked that. He could count on her to remain the same in his life while everything else went crazy. He was smiling serenely when she walked through the grasses, seconds after him having just turned to the said spot. As always, she looked lovely, and it was only because Bloodclaw was a gentlemen and a close friend, that he did not eye her. To Bloodclaw, Wintercall was the most beautiful cat in the world and even her scar added to her beauty, marking her a fighter rather than a simple push over most of the females padding after him were like.

"Perfectly fine. And you, Winter?" The usual exchange. Being deputy put such a stress on his schedule that really, the only time Bloodclaw noticed Winter other than nights like these, was when she was in close proximity to him. That left little to almost anything happening between their meetings. Blood found himself wandering if maybe there was someone she had found during these days to keep her company. 'Why should that matter to me, though? Her love life if none of my concern,' he thought calmly, surprised he would ever think of such a thing. He quickly turned his thoughts to their last meeting. They had talked well into the night, later than they normally did, and in the end, she had convinced Bloodclaw that it was time to move on. Fernpaw and Twigpaw could still be remembered, but he could do so without living in their shadow, most of all his sweet Fernpaw. She had told him he needed a new hobby; his sulking over his dead apprentices was getting old and tiresome. Of course, it had been a more joking manner, but no one in the clan, besides Shadowstar, knew what Bloodclaw had gone to ask him two days ago. Bloodclaw looked out over the lake. "I went talk to Shadowstar concerning his granddaughter, Crocuskit, about who was to be her mentor," he started. Wintercall knew how big a deal apprentices were to Blood. Each of his previous ones had been killed due to his fault, even if it was a mistake both times, and one of them had been the holder of his heart. There was only one reason Bloodclaw would have chosen to talk about apprentices: little sweet and kind Crocuskit was to be his own apprentice.