Brownie's Clangen writing hub [RindleClan is on year 2 now]

INTRO
The first time I died, I welcomed it.

I was glad to give my life so DriftClan would survive. The rogues outnumbered us three-to-one. The best we could hope for was for a few cats to escape, find a new territory, and live on. And I knew I was the best fighter DriftClan had. So I stayed and fought like a cat possessed, buying enough time for Sunwhisper to grab Heatherkit, for Stormclaw to pull Fogpool from Ibispaw's side, pleading for their healer to think of the living she could save rather than the dead.

Sedgestar fought beside me, protecting my flank so I could direct my fury outward. He fell, blood dark on his neck, and I stood over him, protecting his body until he came spluttering back to life, stunning the rogues just enough to give us space to breathe. But their fear of dead now walking only lasted until Sedgestar's claws found fur, then the fighting began anew, just as intensely as when we'd left off.

Riverwing was first. Hollowleap, Olivefang, Petalshock. I only understood their deaths from the sets of claws added to the fray.

Sedgestar lost another life, then one more. The rogues were starting to learn that he wouldn't stay down and attacked even more viciously as I desperately kept them off, alone. Finally, he pulled himself to his paws for the last time. One more life to give, a few more moments for the survivors to escape. In comparison to his refreshed vitality, I slowed. One rogue shredded my ear, another gashed my leg, one drew a long, painful clawstrike down the entire length of my pelt that stung every time I moved.

Still, Sedgestar fell first. The rogues circled, a dusk set in fur and claws, a sunset stained in blood. I fought. I fought.

I fell.

I opened my eyes, alone in a field of blood and mud torn by claws. Around me were the dead but I was alive, somehow, without a claw scratch on my pelt. It had been the first time I had returned to life.

It would not be the last.

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MOON 0
Early spring, foggy
Currently: in deep forest, traveling


I buried the dead. It took me the better part of the day and it's night when I finished, but it needed to be done and I was the only one left to do it.

I couldn't stand sleeping in DriftClan's ruined remains of a camp, so I set out to chase after the survivors in the darkness. I felt... fine. Better than fine, really: the ache in my hind foot from a past sprain that never quite went away was suddenly gone and I was not the least bit tired, despite having fought for hours the day before. I should be exhausted and injured (and dead) but somehow I was not.

It wasn't particularly hard for me to pick up the escapees' trail. They tried to keep their tracks hidden--probably Stormclaw's doing, to keep the rogues off their tails--but DriftClan's scent lives inside me and I could easily pick up even the faintest of traces, the barest of trails, so long as it was my Clanmates.

I was forced to rest, though, half way through the night. A sudden exhaustion hit me just after I left DriftClan's border behind and I sheltered in a small bush to sleep until the sun rose.

I only slept a few hours, but in the morning I was completely refreshed. It's like I'm a young warrior again, able to stay up half the night and still be bright eyed and bushy tailed for the dawn patrol in the morning. I haven't felt that way in seasons; I'd almost forgotten what it was like.

I took it as a blessing and used the early start to catch myself a thrush before picking up DriftClan's scent anew. I trotted forward, my limbs with seemingly boundless energy, keeping up a fast pace until I finally saw the group of straggling cats in the distance.

My heart leapt and I raced forward to rejoin them.

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MOON 1
Mid spring, clear
Currently: in sparse forest, travelling


Everyone was glad enough for another pair of able paws that they didn't question how I'd survived when the others fell. Which worked, because I didn't know what I would have told them.

That day after I rejoined the group, Sunwhisper told us he had something important to do and disappeared back towards DriftClan's territory. That put the already-stressed group of refugees to a boil, especially Stormclaw, who snapped and glowered even more than usual. When Sunwhisper wasn't back that night, she brought Fogpool, Rowanpaw and I over. "We give him one more night. Otherwise, we leave him behind."

But Sunwhisper did return the next day, with three kits in tow. They were perhaps four moons of age: old enough that they could journey without needing to be carried, like Heatherkit still did, but too young to be made apprentices. They were obviously his: Luckykit had his eyes, and Bluekit's fur was a match to his fathers, though his white patch was around his front paw. He didn't explain where they came from. I convinced Stormclaw not to push him. We would need the numbers to replace those we had lost soon enough.

Apparently whatever had brought me back to life and healed my injuries didn't spare me from illness: the constant damp and lack of shelter turned into a stubborn sneeze, which turned into a constantly runny nose. I suffered silently, trying not to sniffle too much as Stormclaw and I hunted.

DriftClan needed able paws, so as soon as the novelty of travel became routine, Sunwhisper promoted Rowanpaw to a warrior, giving her the name of Rowanvalley, and promoted Sprucekit to an apprentice, taking over the young tom's training himself. Sprucepaw was a bit young still, but it was hard enough on Fogpool to watch Sunwhisper's three kits along with Heatherkit while the others hunted, so at least this way we could take a little off her shoulders. Perhaps he'd learn to hunt this way.

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MOON 2
Late spring, constant drizzle
Currently: crossing farmland, travelling

My sneeze didn't turn into anything worse, thank StarClan. It's not like Fogpool carried her herb stock on her back; the only herbs we would have were what we could scavenge around us when we needed them. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.

Sunwhisper is acting more and more like a leader. Stormclaw has experience, yes, but she isn't the easiest cat to talk to. And to his credit, Sunwhisper is trying his best. He works himself ragged every day, making sure everyone else is fed, that Fogpool feels safe when the others leave to hunt, that his kits are healthy and, as best as they can be, happy. He tries, and I can respect that.

Everyone tries to help Fogpool as best as we can. The healer is obviously wrought with grief still, and it's hard to leave her alone with the kits each morning to hunt. I try and talk with her as much as I'm able, sticking close to the molly's side when we travel, sharing the burden of watching the kits even if I'm more likely to make things worse than actually help.

Bluekit follows me around constantly. I imagine I'll be mentoring him when he gets old enough. I try my best to set a good example for him, doing basic training in the evenings when we stop for the night, if he has enough energy to stay awake. He'll need the head start, I think, if we're to survive this journey.

Rowanvalley has really come into her own, I must admit. Her playful attitude doesn't get in the way of duties and she's the only one that can make Stormclaw smile. She's quick too. She caught more prey than I did today, including a dozen little lizards. I'm not looking forward to eating something with scales, but prey is prey and we can't afford to be choosy.

We had to cross a river today. Each of the warriors took a kit and though none of us were good swimmers, we managed to get across okay. Rowanvalley helped Sprucepaw across, but just as he was almost across, his paw slipped on the stones and he breathed in a lungful of water. Rowanvalley quickly pulled him out and he'll be fine, Fogpool says, but he's coughing and is struggling to keep up when we travel, forced to stay with the kits while the rest of us hunt.

"Elm leaves might help," Fogpool said when they found a place to rest for the night. "I can go out tomorrow and try and find some..."

"Do it," Sunwhisper said. "This place looks safe enough. We can rest here for a few days."

No cat expected Fogpool to come back with a wobbling queen and three kits. I leapt to my paws and took one of the wriggling bundles from Fogpool, who thanked me with a slow blink. "I found her struggling with the birth," Fogpool explained once they'd gotten the grey-and-white queen settled and the newborns nursing.

"We don't have the resources to care for more kits," Sunwhisper said, not unkindly. "We are barely catching enough for ourselves."

"The farmers will take them away," the queen pleaded. She glanced around, probably seeing Heatherkit and Sunwhisper's three. They weren't plump by any means, but they were tumbling and screeching joyfully, thoroughly enjoying the day of rest.

I stepped forward. "It will be greenleaf soon. If there is any time suitable to support this many kits, it's now." Not that it wouldn't be challenging, but well, it would be better if Sprucepaw had an entire moon to rest, not just a few suns, and feeling that bundle of fur kick in my jaws had already made me protective of the litter. Call me softhearted, but I couldn't stand to turn them away, not now.

There was a little more back and forth, but it was decided the queen would join DriftClan. She took the name Howlglare, her kits, all mollies, called Faithkit, Goldenkit and Aloekit.

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MOON 3
Early summer, warm
Currently: forest beside the rye, temporary camp

Boredom was bliss. After three moons of travel, having a home to come back to felt luxurious. The small hollow DriftClan moved into started to turn into a camp, thick with DriftClan's scent.

One morning when the warriors were discussing what direction to go next moon, Howlglare overheard and asked why we don't just stay here, if we've already made a camp and there's plenty of prey? Sunwhisper and Rowanvalley vehemently refused to consider the option. Not only was the forest patch barely big enough to support them in greenleaf, but they'd had to scatter a few times as twolegs tromped too close to their temporary camp. "It's simply not safe here, not to stay," Rowanvalley tried to explain.

"The far... twolegs won't bother you, though," Howlglare said, puzzled. "They don't care if we're here."

"No," Sunwhisper snarled. "We will not feel like outsiders in our own territory. This is fine for now, but DriftClan will be leaving at the full moon, with or without you."

I stayed out of it. Later, Rowanvalley tried to complain about Howlglare's assumptions to me, but I refused to participate in that either. I wanted no part in any arguments, that wasn't my job. I was here to hunt and to protect, the politics was for the others to decide. "I'd be just as happy here as anywhere else," I said firmly. "So long as it's DriftClan's, I don't care what I have to do."

It wasn't but a few hours later that they needed to evacuate again, a pair of twolegs tromping noisily into the forest well within sight of their camp. Some cats were out hunting and I really thought we weren't going to make it with only Fogpool, Howlglare and I to wrangle seven kits and a still-coughing Sprucepaw over the ridge and out of sight, but we made it.

It's a good thing Locustkit, Luckykit and Bluekit are old enough to realize the danger and, after several other quick evacuations the last moon, already knew where to go, where to hide. Still, it was stressful and I could admit Sunwhisper had a point in his earlier argument.

The next few weeks were tense as the moon steadily grew brighter and brighter. Rowanvalley and I wandered too close to the barn cats' hunting grounds and were forced to abandon our buried prey when they gave chase. Oh and I hated running away. I knew I could take them easily, even if they had four cats and I only had Rowanvalley. I could have fought them all by myself! But we were to leave in only four suns, and even a bad claw scratch would slow us down.

I knew I was in a bad temper until we left because of that. But I couldn't help but think: the barn cats lived comfortably enough here, if DriftClan kicked them out, we could have had the barn for ourselves.

With a bad taste in my mouth, I was glad when the moon rounded full and we left the temporary camp behind for good. If we'd stayed any longer, I probably would have pitched the idea to Sunwhisper, and I don't know if I could have lived with the guilt if we had succeeded.

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MOON 4
Mid summer, drought
Currently: marshes, travelling


A quarter moon of travel brings us to the marshes. It's been hot and dry recently, enough that there's pale marks almost a tail-length above the water line, where the water once was and is no more. We're lucky, I think, to have travelled this way. Anywhere else, and there might not be water at all.

Rowanvalley caught a duck. That was... something. I only had a few bites before I decided to leave the fat bird to the growing kits and took a vole instead.

We decided it was time for the kits to be named apprentices. They'd practically been apprentices their fifth moon anyways, with Bluepaw shadowing me around everywhere he could--and many places he really shouldn't have. I was surprised when Stormclaw took me aside and asked me to mentor Locustpaw instead, but the molly's reasoning was solid: Locustpaw, the runt of Sunwhisper's litter, hardly ever left Fogpool's side.

"It would be good for his nerves to be around your confidence, Brownfur," she mewed. "If anything could pull him out of his shell, it's knowing you'll be able to protect him."

Which is how I ended up with Locustpaw. Bluepaw was a bit put out when I told him Stormclaw would be training him from now on, but he got over it quickly as I knew he would. Young cats adapt so quickly.

Locustpaw wasn't an attentive student. The first few days, he refused to stray out of sight of their resting camp to hunt. Even when I finally pulled him away, he didn't want to listen. "Stormclaw and Sunwhisper and you can fight," he argued, pouting. "I can spend my time hunting or helping Fogpool with the kits. Learning fighting is a waste of time."

My fur prickled and it took all my willpower to keep aggression out of my posture. "You will learn to fight. That's a warrior's duty," I finally said. But I didn't push too hard, shifting to hunting training instead. That was something Locustpaw excelled at, once he found himself brave enough to go where the prey was.

By the end of the moon, though, he'd made progress. His fighting crouch was worse than a determined kit's (I'd know, because Bluepaw had done better after only a few hours' practice) but something more important had shifted: Locustpaw now felt confident enough to try. I learned praise works far better than criticism, that even a little complement makes the nervous tom willing to try new things.

He fails often, but now he sometimes will try a second time. His progress fills me with pride. I did that! I'd trained apprentices before, but none were as fearful as Locustpaw. This made every step forward stand out like a cardinal's feather on the snow, and I found myself just as excited as Locustpaw when he finally succeeded.

Even Sunwhisper was impressed. He stopped by with a pair of voles--knowing I disliked the more amphibious prey patrols brought home sometimes, as we travelled through the marshes--and we shared the meal and conversation. "I worried for Locustpaw," he admitted. "Thank you for giving him the patience and time he needed."

I was a little embarrassed at the younger tom's praise, but covered it up by grooming his shoulder. "Of course."

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MOON 5
Late summer, hot
Currently: Near the city, travelling

"Sprucepaw!" I yowl, leaping forward. Sunwhisper is close on my tail, but I don't look back.

I only have eyes for the massive dog, holding a screeching Sprucepaw by the leg. I don't question, I let my training and experience take over completely, setting thoughts adrift into the sea of motion. Claws and paws and fangs and muscle. I slam into the dog's face, ripping wherever I can get my claws to stick. As I fall, I bite down onto the dog's hanging jowl, hanging there for a long second until it lets Sprucepaw go.

Sunwhisper catches his apprentice, I see the streak of pale grey fur below as I land, then it's only me and the dog and the fight in my blood. "Come on, dog-breath!" I hiss, spine arched but paws steady on the ground, coiled like a spring. Another clash and I dodge, but it's not quite enough and it catches my tail, tugging an arc of fire down my spine as it lifts my scrabbing claws from the ground.

Unlike Sprucepaw, I know how to use momentum.

My tail crunches but it's enough to swing onto the dog's muzzle, hanging on with all four sets of claws as it shakes its head. I grit my teeth and hang on, yowling defiance into the dog's face. When its snapping neck slows, I risk losing a paw to slash across its eye, which is enough to force a yelp of pain and free my mangled tail from its jaws.

It's also enough that the dog doesn't give chase as I turn and flee, running opposite the direction of our day camp, just in case. The wind cuts through my lacerated tail and it's like the dog's fangs are still lodged inside, grinding against bone with each step. Eventually I slow and turn back to camp. Rowanvalley meets me halfway, panic in her eyes, and my jaws are probably bloody, but I smile all the same. "It's alright. I'm alright," I assure her.

I knew going near the city was a bad idea, but it was either that, or spend days finding a way across a steep chasm that seemed to endlessly trail off into the sunrise as far as we could see. Sunwhisper, Rowanvalley and I voted to risk the city outskirts, while Stormclaw, Howlglare and Fogpool thought we should take the longer way around.

In the end, it was Sprucepaw that broke the tie. The young tom had forced himself into the council of warriors when the argument between Sunwhisper and Stormclaw grew so heated, it drew the younger cats' attention. "Crossing the city will only take one day," the Sprucepaw said. His voice was raspy from his dip in the river. "If we move quick and careful, wouldn't that be less of a risk than a week out in the open?"

"That's what I'm trying to say," Sunwhisper mewed, and it was obvious that he was proud of his apprentice for arriving at the same conclusion.

Of course, we all know how that ends.

Sprucepaw's leg ended up being broken, but overall he was extremely lucky: the break was clean, and other than a pair of punctures, the wounds were minimal. My tail was in much worse condition, mangled nearly beyond what Fogpool could do with her limited herb stock. "It might be better just to cut it off now." Fogpool's words were joking, but her eyes were deadly serious and I gulped, hoping it wouldn't come to that.

Now on the other side of the city, Fogpool argued for another rest. My tail was at risk of infection, and it wouldn't be good for Sprucepaw to travel with his broken hind leg, even if the break was relatively clean.

"We must find somewhere suitable to stay before leaf-bare," Sunwhisper warned. "If we don't find somewhere with enough prey, we'll all starve." Staying this close to the city isn't an option, were the words left unspoken.

"One more moon, then," Fogpool allowed. "But wherever we end up next moon, we stay, no matter what. I need time to collect herbs, and we have to rest."

And that was that.

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MOON 6
Early autumn, blustering
Currently: home, finally


In the end, Fogpool's warning was superfluous: by the time of the new moon, there was no where left to go.

I stood on the edge of the cliffside, or as close as any cat dared. Wind tore through my fur more fiercely than claws and I pressed my ears against my head to silence the howls. Below, water spread as far as I could see. When night fell, the sun drowned in a drop of blood.

That first night, we camped on the clifftop, clustered around each other in a pile of limbs that had become familiar over the last six moons of travel. I was forced to the side, along with Sprucepaw, in deference to our respective injuries.

In the morning, Sunwhisper, Stormclaw, Bluepaw, Heatherpaw and Rowanvalley all went off to explore the land. They come back with several important discoveries: the first is a cleft in the cliffs, a series of caves well above the waterline that look promising for a leaf-bare camp; the other is that DriftClan is not alone here.

The DriftClan explorers ran into a scent line and waited at the border until they were met by a group of warriors. They called themselves GlacierClan and were surprisingly keen on the idea of having neighbors. They even sent a molly, Fallensilk, to help us get settled in. They did, however, warn Sunwhisper that another Clan, LaurelClan, also shared the forests and were not so kind.

Was it lucky, that we happened to run into such a friendly Clan?

Stormclaw is wary of the GlacierClan molly, Fallensilk. On one paw, I don't blame her. Sending a warrior into an potentially dangerous camp is a... strange choice. Were GlacierClan honestly that trusting?

But on the other, well, it wasn't like there was much she could do. Howlglare and Fogpool were always around camp, and since I was injured, so was I. Even with my tail half in StarClan, I didn't doubt I could beat her one on one. She wasn't a danger, not physically.

So when Stormclaw made a huge fuss when Fallensilk offered to help set up camp that morning instead of hunt, I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "It'll be fine," I said, unable to brush my tail over her shoulders like I usually would to try and calm her. "I'll be here, and Howlglare doesn't let her kits out of her sight, you know that."

I thought that would be the end of that, especially when Fallensilk had been nothing but helpful that entire day, building nests and showing Fogpool how to best dry the kelp that washed up on the beach so it would stay supple enough to wrap herb bundles. But if anything, Stormclaw grew more and more convinced that the GlacierClan molly was up to no good. It nearly drove me up the walls.

At least Locustpaw was adapting. I worried that he'd freeze up now that we'd made camp, that he'd abandon the strides he'd made towards independence in favor of the safe caverns, now warm with DriftClan scent. But he didn't. He was still nervous, that was clear, but each day he went out on patrol with the others without complaint. He also made time to check in on me, stuck in the healer's den, which was endearing.

My time in camp also gave me plenty of time to play with Howlglare's kits. They were finally old enough to form their own opinions and preferences, and I quickly came to understand Faithkit's knack for making trouble. I've already caught her trying to sneak out of camp on three separate occasions; she'll certainly be a pawful for whatever cat is chosen to mentor her.

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MOON 7
Mid autumn, overcast


Faithkit snuck out again. She somehow made it all the way to the beach and tried to swim. No cat knows how long she was out there, but Locustpaw was the one to spot her tiny head bobbing in the shallow water and fished her out. She was fine, surprisingly, though crusted in salt, but a few days later she came down with a cough. You'd think that being sick would finally force her to take a break, but Faithkit proved to be a whirlwind of destruction in the healer's den and Fogpool's stern voice was constantly echoing through the cave as the healer tried to force her to rest.

After many stepped-on paws, I learned to keep my injured tail well away when she was awake.

For some reason only StarClan knows, Howlglare tried to pick a fight with me. Me: injured, tail wrapped like some sort of odd bird's nest? And somehow I'm the reason that Luckypaw hasn't been paying attention during training. Like that's my fault, somehow?

It's hard to be mad at her, as her logic is so ridiculous I can't take her seriously. Laughing really doesn't help, but I can't help it. I should probably have apologized later and tried to figure out what the root of the issue was, but something more

"I hate him."

"Slow down, what's going on?" I sit up in my nest. Stormclaw paces in front of me, her claws out and clicking on the sand-swept stone. She's been acting odd lately. Well, she's been acting odd since we were forced to flee DriftClan's camp that new-leaf, but I'd chalked that up to losing her home, many of her loved ones, and the uncertainty of DriftClan's future. You know, like we were all dealing with.

But I am starting to realize that for Stormclaw, it was more than that. Stormclaw is the oldest, the strongest, the steadiest. I'd always imagined she could survive the apocalypse and come out unscathed. But I... I should have realized she wasn't any stronger than the rest of us. Not really. I should have been there for her.

Now we're here.

"Sunwhisper. Sunstar," she spits, as the tom had travelled with GlacierClan's medicine cat to meet with StarClan and receive his nine lives a few suns ago. We had collectively decided he was the only choice as leader: Stormclaw had refused to be considered for the position, Rowanvalley was far too young, and I was... well I was me. I didn't really do leadership.

I might have taken the title of deputy, if he'd asked, but Sunstar practically begged Stormclaw and eventually she'd given in. Still... "What about him?"

"Do you ever feel like he's--" she turns another circle, her scarred tail flicking frustrated circles behind her, swirling up the sand. "Like he's got us all wrapped around his paw? Like he enjoys manipulating everyone to get exactly what he wants?"

"Uh. No?" I reply, because while I could see Sunstar as arrogant, maybe a little too full of himself at times, he'd never let me down in a fight. And what else mattered? I thought back to the marsh, when he'd shared a vole and thanked me for taking care of Locustpaw, his son. His worry, his relief, those had been real. "Here, sit down. Your pacing is making me dizzy." And anxious, but I don't want to let her know that much.

Once Stormclaw is sitting--fidgeting, but sitting--I continue. "Is there anything he said or did that made you think this way about him?" I start. I want to believe her, I really do, but what with her paranoia about Fallensilk (which has cooled from a boil to a simmer, but never truly disappeared), I'm struggling to put myself in her paws. Especially because I'd seen nothing of the sort from Sunstar.

Stormclaw flicks at the stalks of rye behind her ear with a paw, a new distracted tic she's fallen into since finding the tufted stalks earlier this moon. "I don't know," she finally mews, deflating, and that's almost worse. I push my nose into her shoulder and she leans into it. She's warm and steady as always, but now I can see the cracks. It hurts worse than my tail.

"That's okay. I trust you, Stormclaw. I always have," I try to reassure her. "Look, we can keep an eye on him together. I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I can certainly keep an eye out and see if I notice anything suspicious about his motivations."

"Thank you," she murmurs, licking over my ear and I sink into the familiar comfort.

"But Stormclaw, I do think Sunstar is trying his best. To protect DriftClan. Everything he's done has been for the good of his Clanmates," I say, because it has to be said.

And so it surprises me when Stormclaw agrees. "I know. That's exactly why I have a bad feeling about him."

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MOON 8
Late autumn, chilly


Finally, finally, Fogpool peels off the last layer of herbs from my tail. It's still sore, sure, but the wounds are closed and Fogpool says that it would have infected by now if it was going to. Freedom never tasted so sweet and I was eager to explore the territory DriftClan claimed.

It was a testament to how much Locustpaw's confidence has grown that he offers to show me around the territory. I weather his constant pestering about how he's my mentor now, and that I have to listen to everything he says. I do, if only because it's wonderful to see Locustpaw so outgoing. Though it only lasts until they make it to the shoreline, where an oddly shaped bit of driftwood sticking out of the sand sends the young tomcat scurrying between my paws.

Sunstar called a meeting. Faithkit, Aloekit and Goldenkit are ready to become apprentices, but there aren't quite enough warriors to train them. Fogpool practically demanded that one of them train as a healer, so DriftClan won't be without if something bad happens to her. "It was lucky enough that we all survived the trip here, there's no point in taking another risk."

Surprising everyone, she chose the troublesome Faithpaw for the task. "Are you sure?" I asked, because StarClan that seemed like the worst choice, but Fogpool was firm. She must see something I didn't in the moon Faithpaw was stuck in the healer's den with that cough. All I noticed was her flailing paws when they knocked the breath from my lungs.

I worried over Stormclaw, but the grey tabby molly kept a low profile. Several times I shared prey with her, hoping to give her space to open up if she needed it, but she never did. I did see her having several long conversations with Sprucepaw; I hope it was an innocent attempt to distract the apprentice with a broken bone, but I fear it was because she wanted to ask him about Sunstar, since he was still Sunstar's apprentice.

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MOON 9
Early winter, icy


I don't know why I expected the beach territory to be warmer than the forest, but it wasn't. The leaves barely had a chance to fall from the trees before the first frost hit, and it hit hard. Ice slicked the cliffsides in waterfalls, still and dead. Ice crunched under paws, making sharp the sand.

Prey was scarce. I was no stranger to hunger: Stormclaw and I often missed meals when DriftClan was travelling, when we had barely caught enough for the kits. Sunstar tried to take his turn fasting but we refused. He was the best hunter of the group, and needed to keep his strength to ensure we had something to eat the next day.

But this leaf bare, on the beach, was worse than that. More often than not, Stormclaw and I were forced to share scraps of prey that, in the summer months, would have hardly been enough for one. Howlglare fell ill. Locustpaw, quiet, but typically upbeat, fell into a black mood and it broke my heart the days I had to physically pull him from his nest.

It only got worse when his peers were named warriors early: Bluepatch and Heatherwing, the best hunters of the group, named so Sunstar could send out more hunting patrols in hopes of fortifying their dwindling fresh-kill pile. Locustpaw folded in on himself without the two toms in the apprentice's den.I didn't have the strength to move him on those worst of days: he was nearly my size, now, almost a warrior, and I was too weak with hunger to lift his dead weight.

Surprisingly, it was Goldenpaw that got us through that moon. The new apprentice was like a ray of sunshine lighting DriftClan's cold camp, warming any cat she touched. She never ran out of complements and encouraging words, and hopped to every task with an enthusiasm that convinced others to stand a little taller. I remember that moon through flashes of Goldenpaw's bright smile.

Sprucepaw helped too. I can't give all the credit to Goldenpaw. With his broken leg, Sprucepaw was a constant fixture in DriftClan's camp. He was often ferrying herbs for Fogpool, bringing prey to those of us that had went one too many days without, and doing small chores that had slipped through the cracks as we struggled to keep the Clan fed.

I don't remember how many times I came back to camp to find my nest had been tidied while I was gone, Sprucepaw's scent heavy in the moss. I don't think any cat thanked him, but he continued his silent work anyways. He still probably doesn't know how much that meant to us, in that first, horrible winter.

When I could, I kept an eye on Sunstar like I'd promised Stormclaw to. Not that there was much to see: like every other cat in DriftClan, he was hungry and ragged and tired, spending all the time he could resting for the next hunting patrol. Still, I kept my eyes on the pale grey tom as much as I could. And, well, I did learn one thing: Sunstar was certainly easy on the eyes. Even with his fur unkempt and thin from hunger, he was good looking. Sometimes, when he caught me staring, he'd smile and his pale yellow eyes would get all warm and inviting, and I couldn't help but smile back.

Sorry Stormclaw, I don't think I'm an impartial party anymore.

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MOON 10
mid winter, blizzard


I fell closer and closer to Sunstar. I couldn't really help it. Stormclaw was working herself into exhaustion each day with the day-to-day needs of the Clan, and Sunstar needed some cat to lean on. I was just... there.

Sprucepaw's broken bone was finally healed, and Sunstar asked me to help with training, since he had Sprucepaw and Goldenpaw to work with now. Of course I agreed; Locustpaw had caught greencough, leaving my days freer than they had been last moon. I had plenty of time to help, and I respected both Goldenpaw and Sprucepaw. Having the opportunity to help train them was an honor.

But that only gave me more opportunities to fall into Sunstar's pale eyes, warm with pride and softened with gratitude: during hunting training on the cliffside, an electric moment as the two apprentices sparred in the snow, a close moment walking back to camp after a long day, our pelts nearly brushing. StarClan, it was as easy as breathing.

It took effort to pull myself out of Sunstar's orbit. I tried, instead, to help Fogpool for a few days, wanting to keep close to Locustpaw during his illness. One day she came back with plenty of fresh catmint--impossible, with a tail-length of snow on the ground after a recent blizzard--and she admitted it was from LaurelClan's healer when she told them Locustpaw had greencough at the last healer's meeting.

"The Clans here... they aren't like those back in the forest," Fogpool said to me when I couldn't manage to get the surprise off my face quick enough. "Both LaurelClan and GlacierClan want to help us thrive. They don't want to fight. Isn't that weird? Clans that want to help each other? Clans that think peace and unity are better options than war?"
My time around the healer's den revealed one other thing: Faithpaw was struggling with her training. The young apprentice was nearly always frustrated, snapping at even the smallest setbacks. Fogpool ignored her outbursts as if not acknowledging them meant they didn't exist. I don't know why I pulled Faithpaw aside one day, but I did. "You alright?" I asked, trying to give her space while also keeping the conversation private.

The young molly hissed. "I wanted to be a warrior!" she snapped, her tail flicking. She had an oak leaf behind her ear that crinkled when she moved, given to her by Fogpool when she was told she was chosen to be a healer. It looked like Faithpaw wanted to rip it off, only a spider's thread keeping her from shredding the leaf here and now. "Aloepaw, Aloepawpractically begged to be a healer, but Fogpool refused!" Faithpaw snarled then sat abruptly. "That would have made everyone happy!"

I paused, took my time choosing my words. I wasn't very good at that, sometimes. "Faithpaw, there has to be some reason Fogpool chose you instead--"

"Yeah," Faithpaw said, tail lashing. "To make us know that what we want doesn't matter. That she knows best. But she doesn't know me at all!"

"Look, if you really wanted to be a warrior, why don't you talk to Sunstar about it? I can go with you, if you want me to. He would step in if that's what you really wanted to do, Faithpaw."

The white apprentice froze. "You really would talk to him for me?"

"Not for you. You'll have to say the words, but yeah, I can go with you if that would make it easier." And that was the most obvious thing in the world to me. Sunstar wasn't unreasonable, after all.

"I-- Let me think about it?" Faithpaw mewed, her voice small.

I nodded. It was no trouble for me to help Faithpaw if she needed it. I knew Fogpool could be stubborn. "You know where to find me, if you want."

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MOON 11
late winter, frostbitten


Fortune came in the form of fish. Even before the true thaw, trout heavier than two cats swarmed the shallower water (Fallensilk calls them estuaries) and were easy pickings for a cat with the know-how. Which wasn't DriftClan. But GlacierClan was more than happy to share the waters and split their catch.

"No cat should ever go hungry when the trout are running," GlacierClan's leader, Larkstar, said, with such conviction that you couldn't help but believe her.

GlacierClan's generosity was not without limits, however, and there came a small spat between Rowanvalley and a few GlacierClan cats on how to split that day's catch. "Why do you get more fish?"

"Because we can't split a fish in half, mouse-brain," the GlacierClan molly mewed, rolling her eyes. "And GlacierClan has more mouths to feed."

Before Rowanvalley could say anything further, I stepped between them, apologizing for Rowanvalley's behavior. It really wasn't like her to be so snappish, the cold and hunger must really have gotten to her. "It's alright," I mewed once we were taking our half of the fish home and well out of earshot of the GlacierClan patrol. "It's only one extra fish, and the smallest one at that. We really should be appreciative that they're not taking more. Honestly, it would be well within their right: they do have more cats, and they did do more of the work."

Rowanvalley deflated, but she knew I was right. "I'll apologize for myself next time," she said softly.

I gave her a friendly poke with my tail. "I know you grew up with LeafClan and WolfClan on our borders and constant fighting, Rowanvalley. And you know I love me a good fight," (a gross understatement. With so many moons of running away from danger instead of towards its, my claws practically screamed for battle), "but peace is a good thing."

And then I slipped on the icy stones, landing myself in the healer's den with a twisted paw.

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MOON 12
early spring, still too cold


Howlglare enjoyed four suns as an elder before she died.

I was in a separate wing of the healer's cave so that Locustpaw's greencough and Howlglare's yellowcough wouldn't infect me, so I didn't really follow how the former barn cat's illness was progressing. I'd checked in on Locustpaw a few times, and while he seemed to be almost recovered, Howlglare... hadn't looked good at all.

I didn't realize how old she'd been, not until Fogpool announced that Howlglare had succumbed to her illness. She'd looked hale and healthy, much fitter than a Clan cat would have been at her age. It must have been something the twolegs had done, when she was in the barn: better food, a warmer place to sleep, healing.* Why would she leave that?* I thought, then, darkly, I should have went to Sunstar and taken that for DriftClan.

At least Locustpaw recovered. A few suns training with Sunstar, Goldenpaw and Sprucepaw had Locustpaw ready for assessments, and the tom earned the name Locustwish. I wish I would have been able to be there at the last leg of his training, but Fogpool allow me to watch his battle assessment as long as I didn't put weight on my injured paw, which I appreciated.

I felt horrible for Sprucepaw, though, watching cats six moons his junior take their warrior names before him. Luckyspeck had also been named last moon, leaving only the late Howlglare's three mollies as 'paws. I didn't want to be patronizing, but I also wanted to say something. In the end, my awkward inching around the topic made Sprucepaw laugh.

"It's alright," he said, and his voice made it clear he was full-grown, not at all an apprentice like his name suggested. "I'm just a little behind on my hunting skills, that's all. I'd rather wait until I'm fully ready than take my warrior name too quickly and let a cat down that was relying on me."

Which was... surprisingly a mature take. I blinked and Sprucepaw smiled back.

"I would have been jealous," I admitted, because I vividly remembered how an injury had kept me back from earning my name at the same time as Addertuft and Lightfang, and how I was angry at them for moons. I'd expected them to ask Sedgestar to hold back their assessments until I could join them which, looking back, never in a million moons would have happened.

Still, Sprucepaw shook his head. "I am jealous. A little. But I also can help Sunstar with Goldenpaw's training and Aloepaw needs someone around that isn't her littermates. And it's not like I can't still boss the young "warriors" around," he teased, whiskers twitching. "I'm still the best fighter and they know it."

A few days later, Aloepaw snuck into the healer's den. "Why haven't you made Fogpool switch apprentices yet?" the grey classic tabby molly hissed under her breath, looking anxiously around. "Weren't you going to do that?"

I blinked. "First off, I told Faithpaw that I'd go with her if she wanted to speak to Sunstar. And she hasn't." Faithpaw has also been a lot calmer since then, like giving her an out made her feel less trapped. Perhaps given the space, she had decided to choose this path on her own. I don't know. "Second, you can go to Sunstar yourself if that's what you want. No cat is stopping you."

Aloepaw snarled, showing a tooth, but then Fogpool entered the den with a mouthful of colorful flowers, silencing anything the molly had been about to say. "Aloepaw! What are you doing here? Are you hurt?"

"Just had something to tell Brownfur about," Aloepaw said quickly, flicking her ears and all but running out of the den. I shared a glance with Fogpool and shrugged. Why the apprentices thought they should talk to me instead of to Sunstar or Fogpool herself was beyond me.

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MOON 13
mid spring, thaw


The morning after the gathering, Stormclaw came to me and apologized. She said a lot of words, like how she never should have doubted Sunstar and that she was sorry for pulling me into her paranoia; how she feels it's put a strain on our friendship and could we go back to the way things were, please?

And of course I reassured her that everything was fine, that it was no trouble at all and I'm glad she came to see that Sunstar was just trying to help.

She was quiet after that, and my fur prickled. I suspected that Stormclaw still held on to her conspiracy, the only thing that changed is she wanted to let me out of it. When she left the den without saying anything more, I knew I had lost her.

At least my sprain was only that: a sprain. After a few days of resting it, Fogpool cleared me to continue my duties. The first thing I did was hunt with Locustwish. And what a warrior he'd become! He still had his nerves--nothing, I think, could have changed his nature--but his hunting skills gave him confidence and he roamed DriftClan's territory with purpose, even if he did glance back towards me with that spark of panic in his eye a few times, he also managed to silence it on his own.

We caught three sparrows and a jay.

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MOON 14
late spring, sunny


Warmth. For how desperately the cold had clung to the cliffsides, it surprised me how quickly everything sprung back to life. It seemed like the forest turned green overnight, not a slow, shivering change like in DriftClan's old forest, but snapping and screaming victory after a long battle.

Sprucebird, Goldenseed and Aloecreek were named warriors on the first day the sun truly felt warm. "No kits or apprentices anymore," Fogpool mewed to me during their ceremony, completely ignoring her own apprentice complaining behind them. "I do hope some of these young warriors pair up soon. GlacierClan and LaurelClan are polite for now, but they both have many more warriors than we do."

I shrugged. "Any DriftClan warrior is worth two of theirs," I said.

Later, on a border patrol with Rowanvalley and Stormclaw, we spot a rabbit just inside GlacierClan's border. It's Rowanvalley who makes the catch, and it's Rowanvalley who, in deference to the neighboring Clan's help that leaf-bare, hides the catch as a gift for the next GlacierClan patrol to find. I tease her about it relentlessly on the way home, and the ginger spotted molly hides behind her whiskers. "I did owe them an apology," she muttered. "And it was on their side of the border. I just was in position to make the catch, that's all."

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MOON 15
early summer, overcast

"Brownfur!" I focus as Luckyspeck calls my name, the panic in the young tom's voice enough that I sprint towards the sound of his voice. DriftClan's scent line passes under my paws, the scent of blood heavy as ashes on my tongue.

I burst into the clearing, claws ready, and Luckyspeck turns towards me, his yellow eyes wide with fear. "I--I don't know what happened but--" It was habit to scan the surrounding forest for threats, habit to stalk to Luckyspeck's far side, putting him closest to the safe path towards DriftClan's border, before finally turning my attention inwards.

A very pale ginger cat lay in a pool of blood at Luckyspeck's paws. "I smelled blood so I went to look," Luckyspeck says. Rowanvalley bursts in behind me, startling us both before recognition of her familiar pelt sinks in. "There's a trail of blood--" the dark grey speckled tom shakes his head. "I don't know what could have done something like this."

With Rowanvalley on guard for threats, I feel safe enough to take a closer look at the injured cat. Crusts of blood stain his light ginger fur brown and crimson along the side of his head, down his neck, his right shoulder, sticking to the pool he fell in. He's breathing shallowly, punctuated by several staccato heaves every few heartbeats. "Head wounds always bleed a lot, it might look worse than it actually is," I say. I sigh. "We shouldn't leave him here. If he can hold on until we can get him to Fogpool, he might live."

I ask Rowanvalley and Luckyspeck to carry the injured cat. If he was attacked, I want my paws to be free to fight. But the forest was silent as a funeral, and somehow, the tom is still breathing by the end of it. We have to leave him at the top of the cliff--it would be near impossible to carry a cat down the cliff trail safely--but when Fogpool arrives, she says he has a good chance as long as his brain doesn't swell.

It's in StarClan's paws, now.

For reasons only StarClan knows, this moon was full of injuries. First, Gorsebird was bit by a snake. It wasn't venomous, thank the stars, but DriftClan hadn't lived anywhere where snakes were common before, and the new threat had every warrior scared to poke their nose too deeply in any dark crevasse.

Next, it was Stormclaw. She'd gotten her paw trapped in a metal snare, a twoleg device Fallensilk claimed was for catching rabbits--because of course, twolegs weren't nearly stealthy or quick enough to catch one with their own paws. She'd broken free with Bluepatch's help, but her leg was in awful shape.

And then it was Locustwish, who ended up in a battle against a fox alongside Aloecreek and Heatherwing. The three young warriors did win the fight, but Locustwish took a heavy blow to the side that left him in the healer's den to recover.

It was almost like something had drawn targets on the cats I loved: my apprentice, my oldest friend, the young warrior I admired most. I spent a lot of time in the healer's den myself that moon, visiting the injured and sharing prey and gossip, trying to ease their minds as much as I could. Fogpool often brought me prey when I came straight to the healer's den after patrol, a kind gesture I couldn't thank her enough for.

Rowanvalley was the one that pulled me away from the den, reminding me to take time for myself and not let worry for my Clanmates overwhelm me. StarClan, when did she get so wise? It felt like only last moon that she was an apprentice, it's hard to think of her as the next most experienced warrior after myself.

It's been over a year since we left DriftClan's forest. Over a year since I buried Sedgestar and the others. Time dulled the memories, softening them like a sea-tumbled stone. They were almost pretty without those sharp edges.

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MOON 16
mid summer, breezy


"So. You and Sunstar, huh?"

"What?"

Fogpool rumbled a purr. "When should I be expecting the kits, hmm? Late leaf-fall is hard but--"

"No," I interrupted, firmly. "No kits! I helped him when he had two apprentices because he looked like he needed it. There's nothing between us." And that was kinda true. There might have been something, a spark of something, at least, but... it hadn't went anywhere. It was like after Goldenseed became a warrior, Sunstar acted like nothing had ever happened. And I was content to leave it that way too--I had plenty of other things to worry about, not the least that most of my friends were ill or injured since.

Fogpool's tail flicked. "You and Sunstar looked so good together, though."

I tried to contain my frustration as Rowanvalley walked past, hissing quietly: "No, no and no."

I didn't expect Sunstar to pull me aside that day, asking if I wanted to take a walk on the beach later. I agreed warily, if only to see what he was up to. We hadn't spoken privately for moons. "So," Sunstar started after an awkward moment. I sure as StarClan wasn't going to be starting any conversations when he was the one that asked to talk. "We're not a thing?"

My eyes probably would have fallen out of my skull if they weren't so well attached. "What gave you that idea?"

He stopped and when he looked at me, those pale yellow eyes caught mine and I froze. "That I have no chance with you, or that I had a chance in the first place?"

"Either," I said, "Both." I was unwilling to share more than I had to before he got to his star damned point.

"I thought, when we were training the apprentices, there might be something--"

"That was over six moons ago! A kit would have been made an apprentice in the time between, and you know what? Nothing happened in that time between! I let it go."

"So you admit there was something," Sunstar said.

I groaned, sitting. At least the weather was nice. "I won't not admit that there wasn't something," I said, because the double negatives made it easier to bear. "But why bring it up now, Sunstar? It's far too little far too late. That bird has long left the nest."

At least he had the courtesy to look away when he shrugged. "Rowanvalley. She said I should say something."

"Of course she overheard. Nosy kit," I muttered. Still. I took a deep breath, and though it went against everything I knew, I gave up the advantage. "Look, there might have been something, back in leaf-bare, but then it passed." I paused, a few heartbeats of silence and waves and a soft breeze. "Let's forget this happened, okay?"

"Sure," he said, maybe a little too quickly. "Let's do that."

I started back towards DriftClan's camp, itching with restless paws, but Sunstar didn't follow. When I looked back, he was still there, a drop of white against the falling dark, a star on sand.

At least the next day I got my battle, a small group of rogues ambushing a DriftClan patrol. But it was a DriftClan patrol with me at the head, and despite being taken by surprise, my frustration at the whole Sunstar situation was more than enough to carry my paws eagerly into the fray.

I was a little rusty, what with over a year of relative peace--something that never would have happened in DriftClan's old home, not with WolfClan and LeafClan and plenty of rogues around--but my anger gave my claws new purpose and we sent the small group running. Only Fallensilk had any injuries to show for it.

The GlacierClan molly later admitted that she'd only been in a few real fights her entire life. I agreed to train her in DriftClan's fighting techniques when she was out of the healer's den. It was the least I could do for how much she'd given to DriftClan.

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MOON 17
late greenleaf, humid


Fogpool is dead. I'll start from the beginning:

I was sharing prey with Sunstar (was it polite that he brought me prey to share? Or petty because it was fish, which he knows I dispise?) when Heatherwing burst into camp, frantic, as if he had a fox on his tail. Immediately we were both on our paws, awful smelling fish abandoned, to see what was wrong.

"It's Fogpool."

Bluepatch led us--plus Faithspot and Luckyspeck--out towards the LaurelClan border. Bluepatch and Sprucebird stood guard. Between them was Fogpool, her white fur like a small drift of snow under the ferns. "We didn't want to move her, just in case there were clues," Sprucebird said to Sunstar once we'd arrived.

The pale grey tom nodded. "Good thinking. Luckyspeck, Bluepatch, keep watch. Heatherwing, you should rest. The rest of us can see what we can find."

But there wasn't much. Sunstar, Sprucebird and I searched and searched until the sun went down, but Fogpool's death remained largely a mystery. There were no pawprints, no tufts of fur, no sign of a struggle. There wasn't even any blood under Fogpool's claws, just a small puncture at the base of her broken neck.

But the most confusing thing was the lack of scent: not loner or rogue or LaurelClan or even any DriftClanners besides Faithspots', who hadn't left her mentor's side since she arrived, and the three warriors on patrol that had found her here.

We buried her beside Howlglare's grave, on a hill overlooking the cliffside.

I mourned, but it almost didn't feel real, not without knowing what had killed her, without a direction to channel my anger. Anger and grief had been synonyms in my mind, back when DriftClan warred with WolfClan. It was easy, then, to show grief in my arcing claws, in bared fangs. Here, directionless, I hardly felt anything at all.

"Nonbinary," Faithspot said. "It's when a cat doesn't feel like they're a tom or a molly, but something in between."

I was in the healer's den, visiting with Stormclaw. She was doing well, all things considered, and the paw she'd caught in that snare was almost healed. Goldenseed and Luckyspeck were chatting with Faithspot and Heatherwing--the latter of which fainted from heatstroke after finding Fogpool's body.

"So... you want us to start calling you a different name, then?" Luckyspeck said.

"No, Faithspot is fine."

I'd never heard of that before. Did LaurelClan or GlacierClan allow warriors to change their own names? "What's this about Faithspot changing her name?" I asked, curious if they heard the odd tradition during a recent gathering.

"Their name," Luckyspeck said emphatically.

"How slow can a cat be?" Heatherwing muttered, but I ignored him and so did the others.

Faithspot flicked her--their--tail over Luckyspeck's shoulder with a grateful tip of their--ha!--ears. "It's alright, she couldn't have known. Besides, I expect it'll take a moon or two of practice for most cats. But I would appreciate if everyone didn't refer to me as a molly anymore. I don't think it fits."

Well, that was easy enough, I supposed. Better than trying to change the name Fogpool had given her--them Stars, this might be harder than I thought--only days after their mentor's death. "Sure."

I still didn't completely understand what Faithspot meant and I felt a little awkward going back to them to clarify, so eventually I found my way to Goldenseed instead. I bet the grey ticked molly would have some answers: she was a social butterfly after all, if anyone knew about nonbinary cats, it would be her. It wasn't the easiest conversation, but Goldenseed was patient and answered all my questions as best as she could.

It still didn't make sense to me why a cat would care. I certainly didn't care if the cats I fought were toms or mollies: they all had claws.

But I had enough empathy to recognize that even if it didn't matter to me in the slightest, it mattered a whole lot to Faithspot. And if all they expected of me was to refer to them with different words, everything else wasn't really my buisness. "Not every cat would try to understand my littermate," Goldenseed said, when I'd asked all the questions she could answer.

"They're my Clanmate. That makes it important information to know," I said, because to me, that was the most logical thing in the world. "Thank you for helping."

Goldenseed bumped my shoulder, the playful molly light on her paws. "Anytime."

The second half of the moon was slow and lazy. Locustwish's fox bite healed over, though it left him with a scar on his right haunch that looked like a claw-scratch moon. I spent the days itching. Somehow, Rowanvalley had picked up fleas last moon and the cursed things ran rampant in the warrior's den, though for some reason the fleas preferred Bluepatch's and my pelts over everyone else.

Sprucebird jokingly thanked me for taking the brunt of the infestation and I mimed scratching over his nest before he took it back.

The mystery of where the fleas came from was a short one when I caught Rowanvalley shoulder-to-shoulder with a scruffy golden molly with a bright green collar. "It's only Lucie," she argued when I confronted her about it. "Remember? From when we passed the city? She said she might come this way soon and promised to visit if she found us."

"That looked much more friendly than a mere greeting," I warned and at least Rowanvalley had the grace to look sheepish.

"It was a goodbye. She's moving south, before the leaves start turning."

"Good."

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MOON 18
early autumn, one full year


I couldn't sleep. How could I? This half moon marked a full year here. The last time the trees turned, DriftClan had five apprentices and three kits; now they were warriors, the cliffs the only real home they've ever known. I should be happy. GlacierClan and LaurelClan were kinder neighbors that WolfClan and LeafClan had ever been; only once did a DriftClan patrol clash with rogues, and that was mostly by accident; they rarely had to see twolegs, their territory didn't have a thick stripe of thunderpath running dead center, threatening every patrol.

No, the cliffs were safe.

Still, my heart longed for the forest. It broke knowing that DriftClan's newest generation wouldn't know the smell of the lilies in the spring or the sharp sap of pine needles cracking underpaw. They wouldn't feel the comfort of DriftClan's dens, solid yet soft, metal and ivy winding into perfect domes.

"Me too." I jumped at the voice. Not my finest moment, but I hadn't expected anyone to sneak up on me. "This will never feel like home to me," Stormclaw said. She walked with a limp--the snared leg hadn't quite healed right, something inside broken that even Fogpool didn't know how to fix. She'd already told me that the limp was likely permanent: another scar for the pile.

I hummed my agreement. Stormclaw flicked her tail, gesturing towards the beach. "Walk with me?" I stuck close to her bad side, ready to help if she slipped on the trail down, but her paws were deliberate and steady. The sand silvered in the moonlight, soft as kitten fur under my paws. We walked in silence. It felt like StarClan was holding its breath. The waves chipped ribbons into my ears.

We didn't go far; whoever was on sentry could probably see us, two round pebbles on the sand. Stormclaw sat and it was the easiest thing in the world to rest my head on her shoulder, watching the stars fall into the sea like raindrops.

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MOON 19
mid autumn, stormy


I hate the rain. I mean, I don't think any cat particularly likes it, but my fur is longer than most of DriftClan's cats and it gets so heavy when its raining. I patrolled with Goldenseed and Rowanvalley during one storm, a right awful one that had us all shivering and cringing from the wind, bringing down even Goldenseed's sunny disposition.

Rowanvalley had a great time grumbling and complaining together--it made us feel better, complaining, since we couldn't change the weather--but Goldenseed never joined in and eventually snapped at us. At the time I was annoyed for ruining our only outlet to our frustrations, but in hindsight I can see why she'd be upset.

We did run into a LaurelClan patrol. A miracle, because with the driving rain it was impossible to smell anything or see farther than a few tree-lengths. But we were able to warn them that a patrol had seen badger sign earlier that moon, which was nice.

After a day of heavy storms, Heatherwing disappeared. Whatever, I thought, he could take care of himself and the haughty tom deserved a little humbling. Getting stuck in a storm would be good for him. It was Stormclaw that asked me to help her search the shoreline. Most the Clan thought he simply left camp early for a walk--the morning shone like only the day after a storm could, trees and water somehow more vibrant than they were in memory--and I counted myself among that number.

Still, Stormclaw cared about Heatherwing and I cared enough about Stormclaw that I could lend my eyes and ears when she asked. In the end, we didn't have to find him. Heatherwing returned by sunhigh, two tiny kits, one dark and one light, hanging from his jaws. They smelled, faintly, of GlacierClan, but Heatherwing never mentioned that and no one else did either. DriftClan had been without kits for too long, most agreed, and it wasn't wise to question StarClan's gifts.

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MOON 20
late autumn, foggy

Oh, where to start?

Stormclaw announced she was expecting kits. Which absolutely took me for a loop, because I didn't think she was involved with anyone else.

Later that night, I went to go take a walk only to find Stormclaw was already there, in that same cliffside overlook where I'd been moons ago. We didn't have to say a word to fall in side by side. She was more confident on her paw now, though like Faithspot said, the limp remained.

It wasn't until we'd reached the beach that we both tried to talk at the same time: "I've been meaning to ask you--" "Stormclaw what--" followed by an awkward silence as we both wanted the other to go first. In the end, Stormclaw spoke. "Will you help raise these kits, Brownfur?"

And that was not what I expected in the slightest. I must have looked a little stunned, because Stormclaw laughed. "I meant to ask you before... all this. But it happened so quickly."

"What about the father?"

Stormclaw flicked her tail, shook her head. "A means to an end. He understood he would never be in their lives."

"I don't--"

"You don't have to decide now," Stormclaw interrupted quickly. "It will be a few moons."

I bumped my nose against her ear. "Let me finish, mouse brain. I was going to say "I don't know how I could refuse.""

"Oh."

"Does this mean we're mates?" I asked. "Because I think we should be mates. If we're raising kits together. Just an idea."

Stormclaw's whiskers twitched into the side of my shoulder as she rested her chin on my side. "I think that's it's a good idea."

I hummed, content. I touched a paw to Stormclaw's stomach, but it was still too early to feel the kittens inside. "Good," I said, settling down in the sand. I wasn't ready to go back to camp yet. I wanted Stormclaw to myself, at least for a little while more.

Rowanvalley brought Goldenseed's body back to camp. By the time she'd heard the yowls and howls, it had been too late: the large dog had caught the hunting duo unawares, deep in DriftClan's upper hills. All Rowanvalley could do was distract it away from the young warrior's limp body, climb a tree, and hope she could survive long enough for the dog to lose interest and Rowanvalley to return.

She hadn't made it.

I rarely saw Aloecreek show any emotion, but she keened when Goldenseed was arranged in the center of camp with burial herbs in her fur. It hurt to watch her grief. It only fueled the sparking anger of my own. Stormclaw was a rock and I leaned into her, breathing her familiar scent to bury the medley of sage and thyme and lavender, a smell I knew far too well, a smell that was synonomous with death.

I didn't hear the start of the argument. I only was pulled from my haze when Stormclaw suddenly stood, leaving me struggling to catch my balance without her bulk to lean on. "That's enough," she snapped.

That didn't stop Sunstar from swiping at Aloecreek, leaving red tracks across her cheek. "Brownfur, come," he said, and it felt like my paws were pulled by strings as I pushed past Stormclaw towards the fight. "Two hits."

"This is not how punishments work, Sunstar," Stormclaw growled.

Sunstar turned with a snarl. Stormclaw looked to me, her blue eyes pleading, but I shook my head. She couldn't risk herself--risk our kits. I'd seen Sunstar in this mood once before, though never this bad. It would be better, safer, to appeal to him after it had blown over.

Aloecreek cowered between us. It shouldn't have felt like a victory, my own Clanmate ducking low with fear in her eyes. And maybe if it were any other cat it would have been different. But it was Aloecreek, and my dislike of the molly had festered into an ugly wound since she'd been named a warrior, her know-it-all attitude shifting from annoying to insufferable.

It almost felt like justice when I placed a swipe over her shoulder, splitting the fur. It wasn't deep, wasn't dangerous, but it was more than a cuff on the ear. It was only when I glanced over, saw Goldenseed's similarly colored pelt scattered with herbs, that disgust reared in my chest, forcing me a step back.

"One more," Sunstar said, and other cats were yowling in the background, but I could only hear his voice. "She insulted Rowanvalley, she insulted me, she insulted her own Clan. She needs to be punished, Brownfur. I chose you because you're DriftClan's best fighter. I know you'll cut her just enough, just enough to remind her where her loyalties lie."

And I knew that if I didn't take the next swipe, Sunstar would, and his would leave scars. I stepped towards Aloecreek--don't look, don't think--and took the second swipe across her other shoulder. Just enough.

"Good."

Aloecreek had cowered, taken both hits without more than a shiver, and neither of us expected her to explode upwards, claws reaching. She went for me first, taking me by surprise and catching a thin cut down my chest. I jumped back out of range, but she only spun towards Sunstar. He blocked her first two cuts but the third slipped through, dragging claws down his face, Aloecreek's claws a reflection of his first strike on her.

"Enough!" Stormclaw bellowed, her voice ringing over the camp. It stunned Aloecreek and Sunstar surged forward and clamped her shoulder in his jaws. Time froze, hanging still. When Sunstar released his jaws, it was almost gentle. He spat blood onto the stone. "That one was for daring to fight back," he said, calm and low. Then he turned, adressing the rest of the Clan: "We're done here."

I backed away, hissing as the claw wound smarted. It wasn't even close to what Aloeseed endured, though, and Faithspot ran over to their sister's side.

I only had two thoughts: what in StarClan's name just happened? and maybe Stormclaw is right about Sunstar after all.

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MOON 21
Early winter, chilly


I spent the moon in the nursery. Stormclaw moved in recently, her pregnancy obvious to anyone now, though she assures me it's going to be a small litter. There's a lot of work to be done around the space to prepare it for kits--its been over a year since Howlglare was here with her litter, and even then, they'd been almost apprentices by the time we'd settled into this territory.

At least it isn't empty, not anymore. Little Shiveringkit and Jaggedkit fill the space with noise and energy. Heatherwing left them in our care, eager to get back to his warrior duties full time. What did he expect after bringing two newborns into DriftClan? I had plenty of experience wrangling kits during the journey here, and honestly the two toms were easy to manage, all things considered. They mostly entertained themselves.

Jaggedkit was my favorite. The fawn tom always had a smirk reflected in his captivating violet eyes; if there was any trouble to be had, Jaggedkit would be in the center of it. I hope he keeps that confidence as an apprentice and a warrior.

On the other paw, Shiveringkit was the voice of caution. Luckily Jaggedkit listened to him, so the two together ended up causing mischief, but rarely anything truly dangerous. Shiveringkit reminded me a lot of Locustwish, though he denied it when I made the comparison. He was sweet and surprisingly clever, picking up on things that Stormclaw and I would hint about that I thought would go safely over the kits' heads.

Aloecreek's bite wound infected. I tried to tell myself that the only reason I avoided the healer's den was because Fallensilk and Thunderstripe had come down with yellowcough, and I didn't want the sickness to spread to Stormclaw so close to kitting. Tried to tell myself that's why I avoided Faithspot too, not that their white-and-pale pelt reminded me of the Clanmates I failed to protect.

No, I stuck by Stormclaw's side. That was my place, right now.

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MOON 22
mid winter, warm


I loved my daughters the moment I first saw them.

Snailkit was the smallest kitten I'd ever seen, barely a whisp of smoky fur. When she was born first, no one in the nursery imagined she'd survive, but after her first strong breath, her yowls and cries were loud enough that even the cats waiting outside the nursery could hear and her birth was heralded by her Clanmates' cheers.

Wrenkit was larger, with a nose pinker than the insides of a salmon. Complex swirls marked her pelt, distinctive, unlike anything in the Clans. She was bigger, but I felt she somehow knew that she had been born second, the younger sister, and meekly gave way to the loud and clumsy Snailkit as they reached for milk.

I lost track of time. It could have been day or night, the world could have stopped spinning altogether and I would have been none the wiser, snuggled between Stormclaw and the kits. My life revolved around them now, a pair of bright suns that would never dim, not in my eyes.

Patrols must have came and went. A steady stream of prey appeared at the nursery's entrance. Stormclaw and I took turns watching over Jaggedkit and Shiveringkit while Snailkit and Wrenkit were too young to do much on their own. Only when they were toddling about, exploring the nursery on their own paws, bright eyes curious and full of life, did I finally step outside the nursery's walls.

Sprucebird eventually convinced me to leave camp long enough for a hunt, and once I was out there, I had to admit that I needed the break. It felt like I was seeing the world with new eyes: was the fresh snow always this shiny? The sky always this blue and brilliant? Next year I could share these moments with my daughters, both apprentices.

I didn't catch much prey. I was too busy cataloging the places I would go with Snailkit, the small things I would point out to Wrenkit, the wonder in their eyes when I tell them all this was their home.

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MOON 23
late winter, slush


Never in my life did a leaf-bare pass so quickly, so effortlessly. Now that we knew the fish would bring a bountiful end to the season, the leaner moons were much easier to bear.

As the weather turned from snow and ice to slush and... slightly less ice, I spent more time outside the nursery on patrol. I led Heatherwing and Sprucebird through the fading snow towards the GlacierClan border, unworried. After all, GlacierClan was still sharing their fishing spots and their prey whenever a DriftClan patrol dropped in to help out.

I didn't expect to run into an apprentice on the border, crouched beneath an arc of dried fern fronds. "Hello?" she called out, voice fluttering like a trapped songbird's wing. "Please take me to your camp."

Instantly suspicious, I narrowed my eyes. "Why?"

The apprentice shuffled her paws. "I'm GlacierClan's healer apprentice." And she might have been, if she'd been named only days ago. She looked hardly older than Shiveringkit and Jaggedkit. "I need to speak to--to Faithspot."

Well, it wasn't like she was a threat. I shrugged and flicked my tail, inviting the small molly across the border. We took her back to DriftClan's camp and when she was finished with whatever her mission was, Faithspot asked me to escort her back to the border. So I did. I didn't ask what that was about, because honestly I didn't care. I just wanted to get her back home so I could curl into Stormclaw's nest and feel my daughters' purrs against my flank.

Whatever it was, though, it put Heatherwing on edge. He visited his kits no less than four times the next quarter moon, more than I'd seen him visit since Stormclaw had moved into the nursery. One day, the two kittens pranked their father by rigging a pile of snow to fall on his head when he arrived. I didn't stop them, it was as good a way to occupy them as anything, and anyways I didn't think it would work.

Well it worked, it worked wonderfully: Heatherwing's brown fur was white and grey from the sandy snow, the kittens cackling as their father nearly ran into the wall in his surprise.

And I was laughing too, because it was hilarious.

But when Heatherwing finally recovered and tried to scold them for the prank, Shiveringkit put the blame on me! "It was Brownfur's idea!" the chocolate kit mewed, gleefully pointing a paw my direction.

The redirection didn't fool anyone, but I played along, giving a dramatically shocked gasp. "I would have never been clever enough to devise such an intricate and devious trap," I mewed, and the kits probably didn't know half those words, but my tone was was on point and that was enough to send them giggling and rolling on the floor anyways.

And the distraction was enough that Heatherwing's temper had cooled. The chocolate tom sighed and gathered his kits with his tail, shooing them outside. "You'd better not be teaching them pranks," he warned.

"Me?" I said. "Never. They thought that up entirely on their own. You should be proud!" I grinned as he shook his head, leaving the den with his sons in tow.

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MOON 24
early spring, clear skies


"I thought you would have learned from my example," I joked, helping escort Sprucebird to the healer's den. A fight with a fox went south and I hadn't quite been quick enough to push the younger warrior out of the way before the fox's jaws clamped onto Sprucebird's tail. It wasn't nearly as badly mangled as mine had been, but it still needed looking at.

"Brownfur!" I didn't expect to be called, especially not by Thunderstripe. The ginger tom that they'd found injured so long ago seemed to be prone to such accedents: he'd been in the healer's den recovering from one stumble or another after recovering from his head injury. Faithspot says he didn't have any brain damage and was likely always like this, but I held my doubts. "Heatherwing says you have the longest claws in DriftClan, is it true?"

I rolled my eyes and left Sprucebird to find Faithspot on his own, unsheathing my claws for the two toms. Heatherwing's coughs were wet and spluttering--apparently the tomcat had gotten too close to the edge of a cliff and took a tumble into the sea. I flexed my claws, comparing them to Thunderstripe's and Heatherwing's until the two cats were satisfied.

I saw Stormclaw's familiar pelt in camp, then, closer to the edge of the cliffs, Snailkit and Wrenkit--I dashed over, panic speeding my paws. "This isn't safe for kits!" I hissed, and maybe my pelt was fluffed out and my paws shaking, but Stormclaw didn't have to flinch away, her eyes hard.

"They're not stupid," she replied, ears pressed low. "It's DriftClan's camp. It's the safest they could possibly be. And I'm here to watch."

"Heatherwing fell--"

"Heatherwing has clouds for brains and he wasn't paying attention. He was also near GlacierClan's cliffs, which are crumbling and known to be dangerous. Brownfur, the kits are fine. I promise."

Still I worried and eventually Stormclaw chased me off. "You can't coddle them," she said. "So stop pacing."

Later, though, I found a small fluff of kitten fur tucked into my nest, smelling deeply of my daughters and more faintly of Stormclaw. I sighed and curled myself around it, letting the smell of family lull me to sleep.

Another strange cat appeals to DriftClan for healing. He was an older tom, with long silver and black fur of the like I'd only seen in the city. He also had a broken bone, his hind paw nearly on backwards. "I'm just passing through," he mewed, his voice rough with pain. "I heard the Clans here are kind and have healers that know how to fix any injury."

Sunstar was on the patrol, along with Bluepatch and I. For the slightest moment, his lip turned in a snarl, but the expression was gone almost before I saw it was there, smoothed out into a warmer smile. I felt my pelt ripple, involuntary disgust, like when you turn over a wren to find its belly full of maggots. "Of course, DriftClan would be honored to help a cat in need. Though you will be expected to follow all of our rules and customs while you're a guest of our Clan."

"Of course," the beautifully patterned tomcat agreed quickly. "Thank you. I don't know what I would have done on my own."

As we entered camp with the injured tom--given the name Duckmask by Sunstar--Aloecreek green eyes stuck to my pelt. The pale molly had healed from her wounds, but they'd left ugly scars over both her shoulders and chest. I could almost feel my claws slide through the tracks. I shivered again and bunched my shoulders as I turned away, following Sunstar into the camp as he showed Duckmask around.

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MOON 25
mid spring, tempestuous


I was given Jaggedpaw to train. From the time spent in the nursery with Stormclaw and our kits, I knew the lilac smoke tom would be a pawful and he didn't disappoint: I had forgotten how much energy one young cat could hold, like one of the heavy storm clouds that lurked on the horizon. Luckily, I knew exactly how to channel Jaggedpaw's lightning and found ways to give him productive outlets.

He was a surprisingly good fighter.

It was still a struggle to keep him from climbing every tree and cliff face he could get his paws on. My only consolation is that he'd always managed to get himself down from anything he'd scampered up, at least so far, and seemed to have a head for heights. Which was good, because I sure wasn't going up there to fetch him down.

Barely a quarter moon later, Heatherwing brings in yet another litter of kittens, this time four of them. He'd asked Sprucebird to help because he couldn't carry them all from the GlacierClan border. This time, though, the Clan wasn't as keen to accept the kits without question. It was Stormclaw that finally confronted him about it.

"Oh no," the older queen said, putting a paw in Heatherwing's path as the tom tried to leave the kittens in the nursery and duck away. "You're the one bringing four kits to the nursery, so you're the one that's going to raise them."

"But Stormclaw," he mewed, nearly a whine. "You and Brownfur did so well with Shiveringpaw and Jaggedpaw and--"

"No. Stop right there." I was having a great time lurking in the background, keeping Snailkit and Wrenkit busy. I didn't want them to interrupt the juicy drama going down, not when curiosity burned so brightly in my chest. "One litter, okay, I can see that being an accident," Stormclaw continued. "But two? With the same molly? No, you're either taking them back so she can raise them, or you're taking responsibility for your actions."

"Yeah!" I chimed in, unable to hold back. "Your kits your job!"

Heatherwing sighed but stopped trying to push past Stormclaw. "Okay, okay. I--I guess you're right."

The days went by and he seemed to be sticking to it, even though Stormclaw offered to maybe split the litter and bring some of them back to GlacierClan when it looked like the tom was struggling with the four newborns, but Heatherwing so vehemently disagreed that she never offered again.

We did learn a few things, though, about Heatherwing's mysterious GlacierClan mate: she was a calico molly named Orchidfeather, she was only a few moons older than he was, that she was a fantastic fighter, and that GlacierClan's nursery was so full, she didn't want to raise them all there.

We also learned that GlacierClan had already kept a she-kit from his first litter and another two from this one, but he didn't want to tell Shiveringpaw and Jaggedpaw they had a sister until they were old enough to understand--and he promised Orchidfeather that he would out them as mates until she was comfortable doing so. "She thought she could toss four kittens on DriftClan and we wouldn't ask questions?" Stormclaw muttered.

"Well you didn't ask too many about Shiveringpaw and Jaggedpaw," Heatherwing countered, and yeah, he really did have us there.

"Please don't tell Jaggedpaw yet," he asked me. "I want to be the one to tell them."

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, but only until greenleaf. If you aren't brave enough to say anything by then, I'm breaking the news before he sees her on border patrol and figures it out himself."

Heatherwing grimaced, his violet eyes so like Jaggedpaw's, but nodded. "Yeah, alright." He had been only a newborn himself when DriftClan left the forest, how could he so quickly grow up into a father?

It was hard to remember what danger felt like. Without a thunderpath constantly threatening patrols, I fell into a lull. Storms, unlike thunderpaths, were unpredictable. Most of the patrol managed to cling to the cliffs, just over the waves. Luckyspeck did not.

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MOON 26
late spring, empty skies


I've never seen Sunstar grieve before. He was a stone thrown into the sea and I didn't know if he'd be the same cat when he washed back ashore. This time last year I would have been at his side, whispering assurances in his ear, pushing my pelt into his for comfort. Now, I watched his grief from the nursery's mouth, Stormclaw and my daughters at my side and nowhere else to go.

Stormclaw and I had taken over watching Heatherwing's kits. Not because he left them behind, but because his dunk in the sea earlier that spring had given him the sniffles, then a cold, then whitecough. It should pass, but for now he was in the healer's den so he couldn't infect the vulnerable kits.

I gave Jaggedpaw over to Bluepatch for a few weeks so I can fully help Stormclaw with wrangling the six kittens. I think he needed the distraction after Luckyspeck's sudden death. Locustwish hadn't left his brother's empty nest in days, his eyes empty, and sometimes when I walk past I wish I could say something, but the words die on my tongue unrealized.

He'd been my apprentice, once, but since then he was a different cat: he'd spent the last leaf-bare in LaurelClan, only to come creeping back after the thaw. I hadn't asked him what happened and he didn't offer it up. He hadn't sought me out for advice in many season cycles and I did my part in drifting away too, focusing my attention on Stormclaw and the kits rather than the training and upkeep of DriftClan's young warriors.

So when I saw Locustwish curled in his nest, leaden with grief, I said nothing.


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MOON 27
early summer, unseasonably hot


I was pulled out of the nursery to lead extra hunting patrols.

With Stormclaw busy tending to the kits and Sunstar still struggling with his grief, I was the only senior warrior left on their paws: Fallensilk injured her leg during the same storm that took Luckyspeck; Sprucebird's injured tail ended up infected, leaving him in the healer's den longer than expected; Heatherwing still hasn't shaken his whitecough; Duckmask offered to help, but his broken bone hadn't quite finished healing yet; and Rowanvalley, trying her best to make up for it all, ran herself into the ground with patrol after patrol, finally landing in the healer's den with heat exhaustion.

That left only Bluepatch, Aloecreek and I fully capable to care for all our injured Clanmates and Heatherwing's litter of kits. Even with Sunstar and Locustwish helping where they could, and Shiveringpaw and Jaggedpaw trying their best to pull their weight with only two moons of training under their fur, it was still a challenge to keep every cat fed.

StarClan bless that it was greenleaf and prey was plentiful and fat.

Jaggedpaw was a fast study and quickly picked up hunting. He certainly had plenty of time to practice, what with Stormclaw sending out at least two or three hunting patrols each day. Our borders were of low priority, though, and it was another miracle that both LaurelClan and GlacierClan were friendly enough that they didn't take advantage of our momentary weakness.

Still, I ran myself ragged that moon, coming home each night aching and exhausted, only to wake up the next morning to do it all over again. There wasn't much time for anything else. Even Stormclaw had put aside her mistrust of Sunstar, often working side-by-side with him to plan patrols while also watching the kits.

And I thought I couldn't love her more than I already did, but my respect only grew then, knowing just how capable my mate was when it really mattered.

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MOON 28
mid summer, grey


My paws bleed, my lungs ache, my legs numb. I push harder.

Screams rattle in my ears. Sunstar, Bluepatch, Heatherwing, Stormclaw, SNAILPAW

The badger's fangs are blooded, its claws drag red furrows in the sand. DriftClan buzzes around like flies. Lumps of fur lay like so many broken shells.

I don't think, I move. Claws slam into the badger's skull, my eyes whiskers from the badger's own--beady, black, rotten pearls--and I sink my fangs into the loose skin of its cheek. I can't hear the sounds it makes over the pounding of blood in my ears, a thump-thump-thump that guides my movements: dodging claws, finding weak points, tasting seeing flinging blood.

It's the best I've ever fought.

I was too late.

The badger left, finally overwhelmed by DriftClan's numbers. By the nursery, each apprentice had a kit between their paws. Snailpaw, her fur bristled to twice her size; Wrenpaw, still snarling, eyes wide; Shiveringpaw and Jaggedpaw in front, the brothers' claws out and fighting stances ready.

In front of them all, Stormclaw, red from a hundred cuts, her scars gleaming like tracks of starlight.

I would have thought a broken heart would shatter, exploding out into sharp spikes of pain and grief that shredded a cat whole. I would have thought I'd fall to the ground, wailing, overcome. I would have thought it was the worst pain I could have ever imagined, losing my heart and soul like the puff of a breath.

I wanted to hurt. I wanted to feel.

The emptiness that closed over my head was so, so much worse.

I walked like a facsimile of a cat. There was nothing inside to prop my bones up, my insides sucked out and left inside Stormclaw's grave. But still I stood, I smiled, I walked around and curled around Snailpaw when she sought me out in the middle of the night, shaking. I encouraged Wrenpaw when she struggled with her training.

I was very good at pretending I was okay.

I had to, because so many in the Clan were not. Sunstar had lost another kit, Locustwish another brother. Aloecreek was the only one left of her family, now, and Heatherwing, suddenly thrust into the position of deputy, was struggling to cope. And Rowanvalley... Rowanvalley grieved for Stormclaw, enough for us both.

And Sprucebird... his tail was infected and with Faithspot gone, DriftClan has no healer. We've been using daisy and burdock on it, at least Sprucebird remembers the herbs they were using, but if that failed...

DriftClan needed my paws, needed my claws, and even with my insides empty at least I still had those to give.

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MOON 29
late summer, blustering


I think the most shocking part about life after the badger attack was realizing that--other than Sunstar--Heatherwing was the only cat left that was close to an equal. Everyone else had either been my apprentice, was still an apprentice, or were Heatherwing's kits.

The moons go by so quickly.

So I found myself in his company more and more often, helping with camp duties that, as DriftClan's new deputy, he didn't have the time to deal with, or watching the four kittens now that no other cat really could. "What's it like," I asked one day, when Heatherwing and I were sharing prey. The camp was so much quieter, now, the ocean's waves like a heartbeat in my ears. "knowing that your mate is so far away? Aren't you afraid for her? Your kits?"

I don't think he told Jaggedpaw and Shiveringpaw about their mother or sister yet, but after the events of last moon, it didn't feel right to push him. Still, he was quiet and took time to think before responding. "Orchidfeather's a fighter. And GlacierClan is larger than DriftClan, there's plenty of cats to protect her there."

Another pause. "She's probably the one worried about me."

"You should have went to be with her, then," I said, because I couldn't imagine having been away from Stormclaw, let alone Snailpaw and Wrenpaw.

Heatherwing shook his head. "No. DriftClan needs me more than GlacierClan ever would." Another silence. Then: "Stormclaw fought like three cats to protect my kits," he said. "She didn't let the badger close to the nursery. She saved my family." A soft beat, wind and waves licking my fur. "DriftClan protects its own. GlacierClan wouldn't be that, for me."

I didn't have anything to say to that, so I don't. But once we finished the shared rabbit, I pressed my head into Heatherwing's shoulder. "She was good at protecting her Clan," I said into his fur.

"Yeah. She was."

We spent the warm season training. There was a lot of young paws, and the late greenleaf warmth made it easy enough for one or two warriors to catch enough for the entire Clan. Fighting training was a must, and after seeing the badger fight with their own eyes, the apprentices were all eager to learn. Not a single one was distracted, all laser focused on Sprucebird and I as we demonstrate moves, working hard to perfect them in pairs.

Good, they'll need the skills. A little fear would help sharpen their claws.

Sprucebird and Shiveringpaw tried to gather some herbs. They took a few leaves of Faithspot's stock and worked hard in the mornings to match them to plants in the forest. It wasn't perfect, but the two toms are both detail-focused and risk-adverse, only gathering herbs they were confident identifying. It was slow, but it's something. Hopefully it doesn't come to actually needing to use them.

Sunstar pulled himself out of his grief and took a more active role in managing DriftClan. He was distant, fuzzy, and his confidence had been shaken which I was surprisingly greatful for. I didn't want a repeat of this winter's altercation any time soon, and with Sunstar's current mood, it looked unlikely that he'd pull something like that again.

He saved Wrenpaw from a dog. It wasn't a particularly large one, but it was fast and managed to snag Sunstar's leg at just the right angle to break bone between it's teeth. Still, it wasn't a match for two determined cats, but the injury was a setback DriftClan could really afford.

At least Wrenpaw was unharmed.

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MOON 30
early autumn, cool


The chilly mornings reminded me of Sedgestar. It's been a long time since I let my thoughts linger on the cats I'd called Clanmates in the old territory, but distance made it easier. Sedgestar had loved the leaf-fall mornings, the smell of decay lingering in the cold air. By leaf-fall, I had trained with Sedgestar for many moons and was nearly a warrior. It was also when I'd started seeing Sedgestar less like a mentor and more like a father.

The first shiver of the year always brought his words to my mind: "The first chill is a gift, Brownpaw. It reminds us to enjoy what we have while we still can."

And so with his words echoing, I turned my paws towards Snailpaw. "Stop, Ma, 'm not a kit anymore," she complained, wriggling when I wrapped my tail over her shoulder and tugged her close to my side. But she didn't try to move away either. The stones were cool but the sunlight was warm and we spent the morning talking about training and the other apprentices and Snailpaw's first gathering last moon and GlacierClan's stinky fish breath until Locustwish called me for patrol.

He looked... good. Better than he had since Luckyspeck's death that spring. Some of the usual light had reignited in his eyes and when he walked, it wasn't with a slouch, like he was trying to hide away from the sky itself. I didn't realize how much worry I had held for him until it was gone, a weight off my shoulders. When we both came back laden with prey, I paused by his side. "It's good to hunt with you, Locustwish," I said, and I meant a lot more.

He understood. The smile he gave me in return was small, but genuine. It was worth a hundred mice.

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MOON 31
mid autumn, muddy


I offered to go with Darkpaw to the GlacierClan camp, as Sunstar's broken bone made it impossible for him to travel the distance and Heatherwing... didn't want to go to GlacierClan, not like that. At least DriftClan is lucky to have such kind neighbors. Olivesnout practically demanded to train Darkpaw when we met a patrol on the border, asking if they would be willing to help the young cat get started.

Honestly, Olivesnout was more upset that we didn't come to him sooner. "I could have sent you Rosepool, or Iciclestorm! Or even Tigerpaw, she's almost a full healer and could use the experience," the older healer exclaimed as he led Darkpaw and I deeper into GlacierClan's territory. "Healers are expected to help cats, regardless of Clan. It's in our Code. We would have been honored to help--"

"It's alright," I said, cutting the long-winded lilac tom off before he could get rolling. "DriftClan is fine. We simply need some cat to formally train Darkpaw for a moon or two."

"Nonsense! He can stay for his full training, we'll send over Rosepool--"

"No." Darkpaw figeted beside me, flicking at the cardinal feathers Wrenpaw had arranged in his fur before they left for the border. "He's DriftClan," I said to Olivesnout, but also to reassure the ginger apprentice. He hadn't chosen this task, but he was the best they had and he was determined when he was told the job would entail going to GlacierClan for a few moons. "We'll manage for a few moons, and then we can take Darkpaw back." Then, softer. "We do thank you for training him, but DriftClan doesn't need charity."

Olivesnout frowned and might have tried to argue--probably about sacred duty or pitying comments about how every Clan needs help sometimes--but I was rescued by a group of GlacierClan cats itching to escort me back. I took one last moment to touch my nose to Darkpaw's. "GlacierClan will take care of you," I said. He nodded before they took him away.

That also meant Albatrosspaw, Tremblepaw and Wisteriapaw left the nursery too. At least Jaggeddusk was named a warrior, else I doubted the apprentices' den could hold that many cats! Fortunate, too, so that I could be free to take Tremblepaw as an apprentice; with nearly as many apprentices as warriors, I would have expected Aloecreek to be given Albatrosspaw, but during the ceremony, Sunstar's eyes passed over the grey molly completely.

"Jaggeddusk," he said instead. "I know you are on vigil and cannot speak the words, but I would like you to mentor Albatrosspaw." Which I thought was a little crazy, as he hadn't been a warrior for more than fifteen minutes yet. "Brownfur is the best mentor DriftClan has. I know she taught you well, and I know you are prepared to take an apprentice."

Flattering, sure, but still. I narrowed my eyes Sunstar's direction but he pointedly refused to meet my gaze. Jaggeddusk, at least, looked to me, his violet eyes wide, but I couldn't quite read his expression: fear? anticipation? pride? I flicked my ears, a non-commital motion. I wouldn't dissuade him if he thought he was ready, but I wouldn't reassure him that this was in any way normal either.

I wasn't really surprised when he dipped his head, touching noses with his younger sister.

The next day, I had Tremblepaw stay in camp with Albatrosspaw while Jaggeddusk rested from his vigil. The day after that, I asked if he'd like to go with me to show the territory to our apprentices. I didn't want to coddle him, not too much, because I wasn't his mentor anymore and he would, ultimately, be the one responsible for Albatrosspaw's training, but I didn't want him to fail right in the beginning either. I thought it was a fair compromise.

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MOON 32
late autumn, overcast


"Please, I wouldn't have come if I had any other option," the white molly said, her ears back.

Her fear scent was so strong, I had to wrinkle my nose to keep it out. "Glad to know the Clans are a last-choice kind of thing," I said, annoyed.

From beside me, Rowanvalley scoffed. "DriftClan isn't here to solve any cat's problems." Then, pitched for only my ears: "We have plenty enough of those on our own." I struggled not to twitch my whiskers. "Go and find some other cat to help."

"It's only right across the thunderpath--"

"Nope. GlacierClan is that way," Rowanvalley offered, pointing a paw. Her claws were just visible beneath the fur, but the molly noticed and flinched away. "They're probably bored out of their skulls and crazy enough to send a warrior or two to help."

The molly left. We watched to make sure she wouldn't come back before continuing on our patrol. "Even if we did have a healer," Rowanvalley said, hopping between drifts of fallen leaves. "What made her think we'd waste time and resources?"

"We took in Thunderstripe," I noted.

Rowanvalley waved her tail dismissively. "We were stronger, then. And he was on the territory. And half dead."

I wanted to remind her that none of those things were really true, and seeing a cat injured was a lot different from refusing to help one she couldn't see, but I said nothing.

Perhaps it was karma, then, that later on that patrol, I managed to slip my paw into a broken root and badly twist it, even cutting deep into the flesh where a sharp bit of wood had sheared through. If we would have helped the molly's friend, we probably wouldn't have come this way and I certainly wouldn't have injured myself without a healer to help fix it.

Sprucebird's infection has only gotten worse, but at least it's someone to talk to. Sunstar was also laying low with his broken bone, but I ignored the grey tom and he did me the service of ignoring me back, which worked well for us both. Sprucebird, though, spent more and more time by his side and I didn't really mean to pry, but also they were in the same den so what did they expect?

After the fifth day of waking up to find the two toms in the same nest, I pulled Sprucebird out for some air. "You're certainly close to Sunstar," I said, bluntly, because I really didn't feel like stalking around the bush.

The grey spotted tomcat turned his head away, but not quickly enough for me to miss the way his eyes went wide and his whiskers drooped with embarrassment. "Uh, we've been in the healer's den together for the last two moons and--"

I cut him off, tapping my tail against his shoulder. "I don't need the whole story," I grumbled, because I didn't think I could stand hearing a young romance blossoming, not now and certainly not between one of my closest friends and the leader that I was slowly realizing I don't trust anymore. Speaking of which: "Be careful, okay? I know you've always respected him but Sunstar might not feel the same way..."

Sprucebird pulled away from my touch, his eyes meeting mine, a challenge there. "You'd better not be lecturing me, Brownfur. I respect you a lot too, but that doesn't give you the right to tell me what to do with my love life."

"No," I quickly said. "Never. I wouldn't do that. But I--" I paused, gave myself a moment to get my words in line. "I don't want to see you hurt." I couldn't say that I thought Sunstar was using him, using his adoration to his own ends, I couldn't do that to him. I wanted to, so badly, but I couldn't. So I bit my lip and let Sprucebird assure me that Sunstar's feelings were genuine.

Two days later, Sunstar announced he and Sprucebird were mates.

I tried really hard to be happy for him. It would be fine.

Heatherwing's youngest set of kits were doing well. I couldn't train Tremblepaw myself, not with my paw injured, and with Sprucebird and Sunstar also unavailable, most of the training fell to Rowanvalley and Locustwish. They did a good job of it, though, and I was able to limp to the training field to give tips and supervise, even if my inability to participate paws-on made me so frustrated, I spent most of the time ripping dried leaves to shreds beneath my claws.

Shiveringpaw was named Shiveringrise, and helped Jaggeddusk with Albatrosspaw's training. The two brothers absolutely doted on their younger siblings, and I spent many long evenings with Heatherwing talking about their growth. After all, Stormclaw and I had been the ones that raised them as kits, and in some ways, I felt like a part of their family. Though I couldn't call them my own, not after Wrenpaw and Snailpaw--no, I felt like a father to Heatherwing's kits, or maybe a close aunt, but it was nothing like the motherhood I felt towards my daughters.

Wrenpaw and I fought. She wanted to follow Heatherwing down to the beach, but I refused. "There's a storm coming."

The force with which Wrenpaw rolled her eyes could have moved mountains. "It's been cloudy for days, Ma. Don't you trust Heatherwing? My mentor?"

I'd never felt something so visceral in my gut: a twisting, pulling, aching feeling like claws ripping through my stomach. It felt like an impact. Like having the wind knocked from my lungs. Like drowning. All at once. "No," I said, firm. I almost grabbed Wrenpaw by the scruff like when she was a kit, but realized that if I did that, I'd lose her trust forever. Instead: "Please, Wrenpaw. Trust me on this?" Because it wasn't like I interfered often, not anymore, and I knew, I knew that if I let Wrenpaw go, I would lose her.

"Fine," she said. She must have felt my fear, because when she walked back to the apprentice's den, she forgot to sulk.

The storm hit. It was the worst storm I'd seen since DriftClan moved to the cliffs, with howling wind, hailstones, and waves that crashed against the stone, splashing water as far up as DriftClan's sheltered camp, wetting the stones with salt.

Heatherwing had been out there. Wrenpaw should have been out there.

Panic of what could have been mixed with grief of what had. We didn't find Heatherwing's body, but after two days without his return, DriftClan accepted that the chocolate tomcat hadn't found shelter in time and had been taken by the waves. Sprucebird was named deputy, and I knew it was because he was capable and deserved it, but some cats--Shiveringrise, Jaggeddusk, Aloecreek, Albatrosspaw--whispered it was their romantic entanglement that was at the root of Sprucebird's promotion.

I pulled Jaggeddusk aside. Shiveringrise was probably the one spreading the words and fanning the flames, but I felt more comfortable interfering through my former apprentice. "Put yourself in Sunstar's pawprints," I said. Jaggeddusk tried to interrupt, but I knew exactly what look to give him. "He lost his deputy. The only real options were me, Rowanvalley, and Sprucebird. Which cat would you have picked for the job?"

"You!" he said instantly. "Just because he's mates with Sprucebird--"

"Jaggeddusk," I said, cutting him off before he can get too deep inside his own arguments. "I don't want that responsibility and Sunstar knows it." Which was half the truth; it wasn't the responsibility I feared, it was feeling like I'd replaced Stormclaw. The thought made me shiver. "And I love Rowanvalley, but could you see her as deputy?"

He grumbled, but eventually agreed. "Okay, so what else was he supposed to do? Especially because Sprucebird is the best cat for the job?"

"I don't know! But this isn't right either."

"Okay," I said. I didn't argue further, and after a few quiet moments, Jaggeddusk left.

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MOON 33
early winter, icy


"Why did he come back?" Wisteriapaw muttered, like her brother wasn't a few tail-lengths away. I batted the grey speckled molly with a paw and she was lucky I wasn't using the stronger of the two, which was currently wrapped in pungent herbs and ached from the cold.

Wisteriapaw glared at me. Her violet eyes were exactly like Heatherwing's had been. I didn't say anything, didn't do anything, just stared the younger molly down until she mumbled something like an apology, though she directed it at me and not Darkpaw. I was surprised with Darkpaw's expertise as he went through Faithspots' old herb stock and rewrapped my paw. "Thank you," I said, because unlike a certain someone--I narrowed my eyes pointedly in Wisteriapaw's direction--I knew a good healer was worth a hundred warriors.

The ginger healer looked me in the eye when he nodded. He had a strange stare: direct and confident beyond his moons, but it was comforting all the same. He'd make a good healer.

Sunstar had taken over Wrenpaw's training after Heatherwing's death. And he didn't change her for the better.

"Sunstar says--"

"Sunstar says a lot of things," I mewed, putting a warning growl in my voice, trying to redirect Wrenpaw before she said something that she couldn't take back. We were belly-fur deep in an argument: Wrenpaw had been spending all her time in Sunstar's shadow lately, and she was picking up plenty of his bad habits. The last, the one I couldn't stand for, was how she demeaned Aloecreek--Wrenpaw's sneer reminded me too much of Sunstar's that day, something that made my heart stop cold when I saw his cruelty on my daughter's face.

At least Wrenpaw reconcidered. She paused before speaking, though fury shone bright in her pale eyes. Where was the timid cat that waited for her smaller sister to go first? I didn't know when that part of Wrenpaw had been eaten by this version, the one that hung on Sunstar's every word. How had I not noticed?

"Brownfur," she said, and for the first time I wasn't "Ma." Something in me went cold and taut, a single claw holding me from a cliffside. "I know you and Mother--" so Stormclaw was still "Mother" at least--"don't trust Sunstar."

"I've told you why," I growled, unable to keep the emotions from bubbling up. "Match my claws to Aloecreek's scars and you'd understand."

Wrenpaw flinched--good--but when she straighted, her eyes were hard. She was tall enough now to see me nose to nose, her broad shoulders so much like Stormclaw's... "No, you don't understand," Wrenpaw said. "She broke the Code. She deserved--"

Now I was the one to flinch away. Because the blaze of rage at those words nearly caused me to strike out at my daughter. My daughter. Her blood on my claws, Sunstar's fangs.

I missed what she said next, anger screaming white noise into my ears, loud as a battle. When I came to, she was flicking her tail-tip impatiently, her own claws scraping stone. "Whatever," she muttered, angry and somehow hollow, before turning away from me and disappearing out of camp.

Leaf-bare wind froze my paws to the stone, cut through my fur, sliced into the still-healing cuts on my leg. Salt dried my eyes as I watched where she left. Anger still hot, but Wrenpaw was gone.

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MOON 34
mid winter, lots of snow


I was in the healer's den when Sunstar lost a life. His broken bone hadn't set right, something wrong inside the wound that Darkpaw didn't know how to heal until it was too late. Luckily, Sunstar had another life to come back to.

He looked... haunted, after. Even if StarClan healed his wound, mending the bone in the blink of an eye, something inside Sunstar was changed. It was the same way when Sedgestar lost his first life, I remembered, but for some reason, I didn't think it would affect the pale grey tom the same way. I thought he would be immune. But he wasn't, and he felt like he was walking on thinning ice for the next moon.

Sunstar went easier on Wrenpaw, who mellowed out compared to her fervor of the last moon. I breathed a sigh of relief, seeing my daughter's personality shining through once more, like the sun finally cleared a patch of cloud.

I still couldn't train Tremblepaw properly, but as my paw felt better and better, I did coach him on his hunting crouch and quizzed him on everything I could think of. Whenever he wasn't out in the territory with Rowanvalley, he was in the healer's den with Sprucebird and I. Snailpaw came in to help too, and I enjoyed spending time with her, seeing how far she'd come.

Darkpaw caught a cough, a quick and nasty thing that made the ginger tom look like death itself for a few suns. But it was an illness that was over as quick as it had come and a few days later, he was completely well, though he had a far-away look in his eyes, much like Sunstar had earlier. When pushed, he admitted that he had vivid dreams of StarClan those days, but wouldn't say anything further.

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MOON 35
late winter, still snowy


Finally, my paw was healed enough for full duties. "We're going to the training hollow," Tremblepaw announced, and I stepped back in exaggerated surprise.

"I thought I was the mentor here!" I mewed, teasing. I tested my paw on the ground a few times when we arrived in the snow-filled training hollow, then slipped into a fighter's stance. I purred. It felt so good to be on all four paws again. "Show me what you got," I said, knowing Rowanvalley was a formidable fighter in her own right and would have trained him well.

And he got it. Tremblepaw wasn't quite full-grown yet, but his form was perfect and he knew how to compensate for his lack of weight with clever uses of leverage. If I were anyone else, he might have been able to win a bout. I wondered if he ever beat Rowanvalley.

Still, I was surprised when I couldn't let my guard down, not even for a moment. Tremblepaw was both fast and clever and I was stunned by his fighting prowess. I let him know it too, not holding back on the praise for that first session, and the lilac tom was fluffed with pride by the end, even if he never quite managed to break my guard. The fact that he even got close was a feat-- many full warriors couldn't say that, only Rowanvalley and maybe Sprucebird on a good day.

I couldn't tell you who was happier at the end of that session: Tremblepaw for excelling, despite my injury, or me, who had the honor of fine-tuning his form.

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MOON 36
early spring, early thaw


"Wrensong! Snaildusk!" My voice was nearly hoarse from cheering my daughter's names as Sunstar touched his muzzle to each of their heads. Snaildusk's eyes sought me out when she turned, smiling when she saw what must have been a silly grin on my face. Wrensong rolled her eyes when she looked my way, but that couldn't dampen my mood. My kits, warriors at last.

I ran up as soon as it was appropriate, purring and wrapping Snaildusk between Wrensong and I. "Look at you two, all grown up," I said, because it was my job to say something cliche and embarrassing in that moment and I wasn't going to let the opportunity pass me by, even if Wrensong groaned and pulled away.

Jaggeddusk came up next, offering his own congratulations. "We share the same name now!" he mewed excitedly to Snaildusk, who looked shy about that, grooming her fur so she didn't have to look the lilac tom in the eye.

I felt my pelt prickle--a familiar feeling, of eyes watching with bad intentions--and snapped my head up to see Aloecreek's green eyes glaring my direction. I couldn't help raising my lip in a snarl, a reflex, stepping between her and my kits. Then Snaildusk noticed and shrank back under Aloecreek's hostility, ducking behind me. Surprisingly, Aloecreek flinched, looking like she'd been struck.

My claws on her fur, Sunstar's fangs--

I blinked and the tension broke like a wave, trickling back down into the ocean. Aloecreek turned away, disappearing into the warrior's den and I watched for several moments until Snaildusk nudged me and pulled my attention back to where it belonged: on my daughters.

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MOON 37
mid spring, wet


The rain didn't stop all moon. A constant drizzle spat down on DriftClan, soaking everything through. Even the dens were damp and cold, the air so heavy I felt like a fish. Tremblepaw was in and out of the healer's den with sneezes and colds and headaches and didn't feel well enough to take his assessments alongside his sisters.

I tried to reassure him that he'd be better next moon as Albatrosstooth and Wisteriawhistle--and isn't that a mouthful?--took their warrior names, leaving him as the last warrior apprentice.

With Tremblepaw spending so much time in the healer's den, I often found myself idling there too. Mostly to keep my apprentice company, but I also wanted to help Darkpaw. I was Fogpool's aide when we were first travelling, and while I wasn't the best at telling herbs apart, I was good enough with following instructions.

I thought I was being helpful, but after a few days in the healer's den, Darkpaw chased me out. "Aren't there border skirmishes to fight?" he snapped, leaving me stunned as rain pattered against my head.

Aloecreek was watching from beneath an overhang, looking smug after Darkpaw cast me out into the rain. I was headed that way anyways, so it wasn't hard to "slip" in a muddy puddle as I walked past, and it was totally worth it to hear Aloecreek hiss and spit as she was coated with dark, muddy water, dirtying her (formerly clean, formerly dry) white-and-grey pelt.

I was already soaked, it wasn't like I could have gotten any wetter. Besides, the rain will wash off the mud. I gave it a shake for good measure, splattering Aloecreek again, and yeah it was petty, but as I ignored her angry spluttering, I almost forgot what I'd been so upset about.

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MOON 38
late spring, still wet


Tremblebracken more than earned his name. He reminded me a lot of Jaggeddusk--of course he did, they had the same blood--but where Jaggeddusk's enthusiasm stemmed from trying to prove himself, Tremblebracken's strength came from wanting to be strong enough to help.

Ironically, while Tremblebracken's immune system caught up with the wet, other cats started to struggle: Locustwish couldn't stop sneezing, Sprucebird had headaches, and Snaildusk's nose was running constantly. I felt bad for staying away, but I really, really didn't want to catch anything myself. It's been a long time since I was sick and I was looking forward to keeping it that way.

Then: "Retirement, Brownfur," Sunstar said, unprompted.

I bristled. "What?" He didn't respond, didn't deign to look at me; he stepped carefully over a puddle. The silence hung, electric, sharp enough to cut. I struck first. "I'm not old."

"You're the last warrior from DriftClan--"

"You are too!" I couldn't help but interject, stopping. I didn't care that I stopped right in a puddle--I was already soaked to the bone, what did it matter?

Sunstar took two more steps, pulled himself beneath a shrub that was trying to remember what the sun looked like. "I don't count," he said, licking water from his fur. "StarClan's lives will keep me young for a long time yet." His pale yellow eyes looked pointedly at me, saying: and you were old enough to be my grandmother even before then.

I don't know why his statements hurt so badly. I didn't think I respected his respect so much. Still, what was he thinking? "You don't get to make that choice for me," I hissed, and it was hard to raise my hackles with my fur so heavy, but it was the challenge that made the gesture meaningful.

"Alright," Sunstar said. And then he left.

"I'm not old!" I called out after him, and he might have flicked his ears in response or it might have just been against the rain.

And I wasn't! Stormclaw had been much older when she was pregnant with Snaildusk and Wrensong, for StarClan's sake! And even after that, when I noticed her limping a little each morning if she slept poorly, she never even talked about retirement. I still had at least a season cycle, if not more, before I'd even concider retirement.

I grumbled as I padded home in the rain. My paws weren't sore, they weren't and even if they were, any cat would be suffering in this blasted weather. If he was trying to plant a seed, it sure wasn't taking root in my mind.

When Sunstar had asked me on a walk, I thought-- well I had no idea what he would want to do with me, and that's why I agreed to go. I wouldn't in a million moons have thought he would try and convince me to retire of all things, his best fighter, best teacher!

I'd left at the same time as the dawn patrol: Rowanvalley, Locustwish, Albatrosstooth and Jaggeddusk.

When they came back, it was with Jaggeddusk carried between the two older warriors, his tail dragging a furrow in the mud. Sprucebird was the first to rush over, with Darkpaw on his heels, but I wasn't far behind. Rowanvalley met my eyes and shook her head. He was already gone.

"What happened?" Sprucebird said, his dark grey fur even darker from the rain.

Locustwish was the one that replied, his voice choked with emotion. His eyes never left Jaggeddusk's lilac pelt. "He tried to swim--"

"In this weather?" somecat muttered, maybe Darkpaw.

Locustwish paused, a shudder rushing down his spine. I shivered in sympathy. "He was trying to impress us--me. Albatrosstooth tried but." He shook his head, then knelt and pushed his nose into Jaggeddusk's salt-rimed fur.

The younger molly had kept as far away from Jaggeddusk's body as she could while still being clustered with the patrol. Her eyes were distant.

The rain pattered down. "I'll fetch Sunstar," I said, because that was something I could do.

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MOON 39
late spring, sunny


“There was a GlacierClan apprentice on our territory this morning,” I said. “Wisteriawhistle spotted a tiny cat racing around like a bat at dawn. I don’t know how he could get lost that close to the border.”

Locustwish chuckled, which turned to a cough. Darkcloud--who had gotten his name only a few suns ago, gifted to him by Olivesnout--looked up from what he was doing, then went back to treating Aloecreek once it was clear Locustwish’s coughing spell didn’t need his attention.

I peeked over to Aloecreek, shaking in a nest of moss. The snake venom was working its way through her system; Darkcloud announced that she had a good chance of survival if she hadn't succumbed so far, but it was still awful to watch. I turned back to Locustwish. “Yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s so different. If this was LeafClan scent over the line, we wouldn’t assume it was an accident.”

“LeafClan,” Locustwish said and I had forgotten he never saw DriftClan’s old forest, knew nothing of our history other than passing remarks I made training him. It was as good a conversation topic as any, so I settled in and told the grey dappled tom all about LeafClan, and the war, and anything else I could think of. It was nice to have someone to listen, even if Locustwish’s interjections were short and mostly coughs.

Wrensong arrived, sat with Aloecreek and Darkcloud for a bit, and then visited with Locustwish. After a few comments, I realized they were trying to talk around me. I gave some excuse and left. Wrensong’s soft laugh followed me out.

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MOON 40
early summer, perfect


I felt scared and for a while, I didn't know why. Everything in DriftClan was perfect: prey was plentiful, borders stable, and most cats were healthy. I spent many long nights watching the sun dip into the ocean, warm sand beneath my paws. I spent the days with friends and family and with weather so fine, even patrols didn't feel like a chore.

Ah. I'm scared to lose this.

I've never been scared of death. I've stared down rogues and dogs and badgers, storms and hunger, cold and sickness. That day in DriftClan's camp felt like a lifetime ago, but it also felt close. In a lot of ways, I'm still that same cat who stood, outnumbered, and held her head high.

But in one very important way, I'm different: I have something to lose. Two somethings, really, someones.

I would do anything to protect them, yes. I would give my life for them. But I wouldn't want to, not anymore. I want to see them every morning. I want to see Wrensong's kits. I want to see Snaildusk touch noses with her first apprentice. I want and so I am scared.

Still, a warrior's life has no room for fears. I left them in my nest--they'll keep me company in my nightmares--and I grabbed Tremblebracken and Rowanvalley for patrol. We saw a dog lurking on the border and before Rowanvalley or I had a chance to hiss a warning, Tremblebracken was already up and chasing. We gave the lilac warrior support, but he did the lion's share of the work leading it far away from the border.

"It's our job, right?" he said simply, but we could tell he was warm with pride.

Rowanvalley bumped him with her shoulder. "Of course!"

My touch was more gentle, a brush of my nose over his ear. Stars, I was getting sentimental. "DriftClan is made better by having brave warriors like you," I said, because he needed the praise. He'd earned it.

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MOON 41
mid summer, humid


"Aloecreek?" The pale molly grimaced, but continued to limp towards me. She'd survived the poison, but was still recovering. Still, my eyes avoided hers, pulled towards the ugly scars on her shoulders--

"Albatrosstooth snuck out of camp last night," Aloecreek said, her voice low and cold as always. "When she wasn't back this morning, Wrensong and Locustwish left to look for her." I looked up. It was well past sun-high, now, nearly dusk.

My lip curled. "And you didn't think to tell Sunstar about this earlier?"

Aloecreek's shoulders tensed, the fur rippling. She licked at one of the scars. "No," she said, flatly, then left.

I looked out over the forest then turned to the leader's den to pass the information to Sunstar. The sun was gone by the time Sunstar organized the search patrols, swallowed by heavy, grey clouds that promised rain.

I sighed and stepped in beside Tremblebracken and Darkcloud, setting off to the north and GlacierClan. Rowanvalley, Shiveringrise and Snaildusk had gone the opposite way, towards LaurelClan, and both Sunstar and Sprucebird had went with Wisteriawhistle east, to the far border, hoping Wisteriawhistle could catch her sister's scent.

Darkcloud went straight to the GlacierClan border, finding the dusk patrol easily and asking them if they'd seen Albatrosstooth. "Oh! She came by this morning, said she wanted Olivesnout to help train her as a healer."

"Could I speak with her?" Darkcloud said.

"Sure! Wanna go see her, or should I bring her here?" the white tom, a cat Darkcloud greeted as Icetuft, mewed, friendly as a kittypet.

"Here will be fine," Darkcloud said with a nod, sitting. "Uh, did any other DriftClan cats come looking for her?"

"Nope, just you."

"Alright, thanks." Darkcloud shook his head when the GlacierClan patrol left them there to wait, sighing heavily. "I was hoping her jealousy would be short-lived," he said. "I try to let her help--"

"She wants to be a full healer," Tremblebracken said, bumping his head against his brother's. "Letting her help sometimes only makes her jealousy burn hotter."

I stayed out of it, but I did tap my tail-tip against Tremblebracken's, silent support as he helped his brother. "Well she should have decided that earlier," the ginger healer snapped, more frustrated than angry. "I was terrified, being sent to GlacierClan for two moons! But I bore it because that's what DriftClan expected me to do."

"You did well," I said softly.

Darkcloud tipped his ears, acknowledging my words. "I didn't like it, but I bore it. If she wanted to be a healer so badly, she could have offered to take my place at any time."

Tremblebracken stood, brushing his flank across Darkcloud's shoulder. He glanced over to me, blinking slow, then: "Albatrosstooth thought you'd come home crying. She wanted to step up after you failed, so that every cat would think she was the tragic hero. She kept saying that. Kept waiting. I--I could have stopped her from saying that, but I didn't. This is my fault."

Darkcloud bapped Tremblebracken over the head. "Idiot," he grumbled. "It's her fault for not saying what she wanted. Only her's."

A moment passed. In the distance, thunder growled. "Some cat should go tell the other patrols that we found her," Tremblebracken said, finally. "You two can wait for her, I'll go tell them what's up."

"Be careful," I warned, because I couldn't help it.

When Albatrosstooth came, surrounded by three GlacierClan warriors, I learned why Tremblebracken didn't want to be there. The argument between her and Darkcloud was legendary, almost as loud as the now constant thunder overhead, and only the threat of the storm and the looming darkness stopped the argument from becoming a fight. Once GlacierClan's warriors realized Albatrosstooth was on her own and wasn't sent by Darkcloud or Sunstar, they were more than happy to force her back over the border to DriftClan.

The walk home was pitch dark, the clouds blocking even starlight. I kept waiting for the storm to break--or for Albatrosstooth to snap--but neither did, the walk home tense and rumbling.

The LaurelClan search party was already back, but Sunstar, Sprucebird and Wisteriawhistle weren't, nor were Locustwish and Wrensong. Tremblebracken ran up to me once I finished arguing Albatrosstooth into the leader's den and posted Rowanvalley to watch her; she could stew there until Sunstar was back. "I followed their scents for as long as I thought I should, but they went far," Tremblebracken said.

I grunted and found myself a sparrow, bringing it under an overhang just in case the storm decided to break. I could barely see Tremblebracken at all, only his pale yellow eyes glowing. The sparrow beneath my paws was lost to the darkness, but I've been alive enough moons that I could pluck a bird with my eyes closed. "They probably found a place to rest for the night," I said. "I wouldn't worry. Sunstar and Sprucebird are both competent."

Even as I comforted Tremblebracken, my own worries prickled in my stomach, souring my meal. Mostly because Wrensong was out there, and however much I loved Locustwish, he wasn't the best fighter. I tried not to think about it as I curled in my nest that night; worrying wouldn't help any cat, and there was nothing to be done until morning.

I had to fight that next dawn to keep Shiveringrise and Rowanvalley from going after them. "Give them until sun-high to return," I said firmly. "Snaildusk, watch over Albatrosstooth. The rest of us can hunt; they'll be hungry when they get back."

And they did come back, all licking wounds. Wrensong had gotten snared in a trap, Locustwish had dislocated a joint trying to free her, Sunstar got heat exhaustion pushing forward, and Sprucebird had fallen into stinging nettles. Darkcloud sighed and got to work. I was just happy that everyone had gotten home alive.

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MOON 42
late summer, clear skies


I'd never breathed so easily. The weather is beautiful and I spent many long days wandering the beaches, breathing in the forest, sitting under a fragrant pine that reminds me of my youth. Mostly alone, sure, but it was the good kind of alone, the kind of alone that I'm only allowed to enjoy because DriftClan doesn't need me to thrive.

I can just...be.

I did spend some time in the healer's den with Locustwish and Wrensong. Both their injuries were minor, though, and I got the feeling that I shouldn't stop by too often. "He's good for you," I said one day, when Locustwish dropped a fish at Wrensong's paws. Her favorite prey. (She inherited her poor taste from Stormclaw).

I could tell that Locustwish heard too, the way his paws hesitated for a heartbeat before he curled back in his nest. But neither of them said anything about it as they chatted about their days. They included me--generous, bless their souls--but after a little while I gave them their privacy and volunteered for the next patrol.

Speaking of blossoming romances, I would have had to be blind to miss the moon eyes Aloecreek sent towards Sunstar all patrol. I couldn't help but scoff; what did she expect, that Sunstar would drop Sprucebird for her? Even I had to admit that my apprehension towards the two toms' relationship had been baseless, though they started slow, Sunstar had carved out time in his life to grow the relationship and now it flourished.

A small part of me, the part that was petty and vengeful, wanted to keep dropping comments of Sunstar's relationship in front of her until she got the hint. I almost started to ask Sunstar how Sprucebird was doing (despite having a long conversation with him myself that morning), but then Sunstar had treated Aloecreek gently, despite having seen her adoration, and I found the words died unspoken.

I spent the rest of the hunting patrol alone. It was a good day to hunt solo anyways.

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MOON 43
early autumn, overcast


Shiveringrise and then Wrensong both catch whitecough. I don't know how, that's usually a new-leaf ailment. At least Wrensong's sprain healed, as did Locustwish's dislocated shoulder. I assumed Locustwish would still check in on her occasionally, but as Wrensong grew grumpier and grumpier, I finally stepped in.

"Not once," Wrensong said, her black tabby tail covering her nose.

Except that was the one time Locustwish did drop in. Wrensong's eyes lit up and I couldn't help but purr--until he turned instead to Darkcloud, bumping the ginger tom's shoulder and complementing him on his work. "I hardly feel sore! You really know your stuff." Locustwish lingered a few heartbeats too long, too long to be just friendly.

Wrensong shot to her paws, tackling Locustwish from the side. Even I wouldn't have expected the sudden attack and Locustwish was completely unprepared, tumbling across the den. It caused Wrensong to have a coughing fit, but she seemed to hardly notice as she came out on top. "What are you doing?"

"Talking to Darkcloud?" he said, breathless, his orange eyes wide.

She let him up as quickly as she'd tackled him, stalking over to her nest and turning her back as she curled in a tight ball. It took a few more moments for Locustwish to stand, confused and disoriented. He shook his head and left. I gave Wrensong a few more moments of silence, but when it was clear she wasn't going to address me I asked: "You wanna talk about that?"

"No."

"Okay."

I sat in silence. Soft wind and the distant waves hummed in the cavern, punctuated by Wrensong's wheezing breaths and Shiveringrise's occasional coughs from the other side of the den. I stayed until dusk, said a soft goodbye, and left Wrensong to sort out her emotions on her own.

I did, however, go to Snaildusk the next day. She was the one cat that might know Wrensong better than I did--my daughters have always been close, especially after the badger attack. "Is there anything I can do for her?" I asked Snaildusk. "Or is romance not a Mom topic?"

Snaildusk laughed at that, which I'd expected. I twitched my whiskers. Her blue eyes lit up just like Stormclaw's had when she was amused. "You should ask Wrensong," she said, which I also expected, then: "but maybe remind her that she needs to tell Locustwish how she feels directly? He's too dense to catch the hints she's dropping, and she won't listen to me."

"Thanks, I'll do that."

And I started, but then: "How did you and Mother fall in love, Ma?" Wrensong asked, turning the conversation away from herself.

I let her redirect; it was obvious she was uncomfortable talking plainly about her own feelings. "Hmmm, it was a little bit over a long time," I said, honestly. "We didn't become mates until she was expecting you." I couldn't help but laugh remembering how we'd both stumbled over our words that night. But at least we spoke plainly. Of course, I wouldn't expect Stormclaw to be anything other than blunt, and I wasn't afraid to confront my own feelings. "It was out there, on the beach," I said, waving my tail over the cliffside. "Neither of us could sleep. It was a wonderful night."

I paused for a few moments. Wrensong's eyes were distant, thinking. "We both knew we liked each other before that, though," I said, pushing my point. "We talked about our feelings several times before we actually became mates. We'd liked each other for a long time before that, before we left the old forest, even. It just wasn't the right time, not until that night."

Wrensong nodded, still thinking, and I left her to it. As I was leaving, I heard her softly: "thanks."

I nodded. "Of course."

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MOON 44
mid autumn, foggy


Rogues. I curled my claws into the sand as Sprucebird retold the fight. "If I was there, none of them would have left alive," I growled.

"They're not the same rogues as before," Sprucebird reminded, but that didn't change anything. DriftClan was supposed to be safe here.

I kicked a stone over the cliffside, the thunk as it hit the water hidden by the crashing waves. "We should hunt them before they can gather their strength."

"That's for Sunstar to decide." My rage died as I spun to Sprucebird, saw the chill in his eyes. He'd always been strict, tight to the rules and to what was right, but there was something else in his voice now, something darker. "Brownfur, are you alright?" he asked, and the concern did light his eyes.

"Fine," I said, hoping my voice wasn't tight. "I just wish I'd been there to help."

Sprucebird shook his head. "You aren't the only one that can fight, Brownfur," he said, and his voice was soft, but underneath I could hear Sunstar's words: retirement, Brownfur. I shivered. Sprucebird must have misread my reaction, because he tapped his tail against mine. "You're the best fighter in DriftClan, but you've also shared your skills: Locustwish, Tremblebracken. Me. And your daughters have your blood."

"So now you expect me to step back. Retire."

"Stars no!" he said, bumping his head against mine, startling me. "I just ask that you trust us, alright? You're like a mother bird to the entire Clan, Brownfur. But we can't stay in the nest forever."

I wanted to snap, wanted to let lose my frustrations, and it was only Sedgestar's advice (breathe, ten heartbeats) that gave me the moment to think. "You've given so much to DriftClan," Sprucebird said. "Let us give something to you. Please?"

And I couldn't say no, not to Sprucebird, the cat I watched grow up into a cat I respected so much. So I dipped my head and let him come closer, sharing tongues as the sun fell.

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MOON 45
early winter, clear skies


I found myself sitting between Albatrosstooth and Locustwish at the gathering.

GlacierClan and LaurelClan mixed, but DriftClan still stood apart. Not for the other two Clans' lack of trying, of course, but the small cluster of DriftClan cats always stuck close to each other once the gathering announcements started.

I yawned. The year had been calm, for once, and there was little for Sunstar to report. Kelpstar of LaurelClan commented on their abundance of kits and Albatrosstooth nudged me, whispering: "Yeah, Sunstar and I found two of them out in the middle of the beach yesterday. Lucky we got to them before something else did."

"They have like, a hundred warriors," I muttered back. "Not a single one of them can count tails?"

On my other side, Locustwish smothered a laugh. "Surprised they could lose any cat, they all smell like rotten fish."

In front of us, a LaurelClan warrior turned to glare and it was only with great restraint that I could still my grin.

I wished every moon could be so calm. A fresh sheet of snow dropped the next night, only a dusting, but it made tracking prey easy and DriftClan prospered. We had plenty of warriors, only Rowanvalley sick with whitecough, and while the nights were cold, there were plenty of pelts in the warriors den to keep warm. I never wanted to leave my nest those calm, chilly mornings, wrapped up between Wrensong and Sprucebird, the comfortable smell of DriftClan wreathed around us all.

But of course, no good thing could last forever.

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MOON 46
mid winter, frozen


We found Locustwish wrapped around two kittens. His fur was cold and covered in frost, but the two souls he protected were warm and alive in the nest made of his curled body. It was only Albatrosstooth and I out on that early morning hunt and protecting the living was more important than finding a way to move Locustwish's frozen body.

Still, ice crackled and snapped, making me flinch with every pop and hiss as I forced my paw into the small hollow he made, freeing a silver-and-black she-kit first, then her grey rosetted brother, a kit that looked so much like Locustwish it hurt to look at. I made Albatrosstooth take that one and we rushed the two kits through the frozen forest to camp.

"Kits?" Sunstar mewed, his yellow eyes bright and wide as Albatrosstooth and I entered camp, the kits limp and cold in our jaws, but alive. Still alive. His eyes moved from me to Albatrosstooth, froze when he saw Locustwish's pelt on the small kit. "Locustwish's? My grandkits!" Sunstar rushed forward, nosing first the kit in my jaws, then the grey tomkit, purring loud enough to shake snow from the branches of a tree. "What did he name them?"

I couldn't speak around the she-kit in my jaws, but I didn't have to. My soul ached to return to Locustwish's body, bury my nose in my first apprentice's frozen pelt, and my anguish must have been clear in my eyes because Sunstar broke. The grey tomcat collapsed against the snow, his legs giving out beneath him. "Sunstar!" Sprucebird cried, rushing over. "StarClan what--"

"My son, my last son," Sunstar said, his voice creaking.

Rowanvalley, bless her soul, took the silver she-kit from me and helped Albatrosstooth and the other kit to the nursery. For a few moments, I opened my mouth and couldn't speak, then finally found the words: "he protected them. He protected his kits from the cold."

But there was nothing more I could say, nothing to take away Sunstar's pain.

Snailpaw helped me carry home Locustwish's body. I was surprised to find her grief nearly as raw as mine, but she bore his weight with dignity as I made the trip through the snow a second time that morning.

When we got to camp, I learned Sunstar had retreated to the nursery and threatened every other cat until they left him alone with them. For a heartbeat I worried, but Sprucebird caught my eyes and nodded slowly, so I forced myself to relax. Sprucebird knew Sunstar better than any other cat, if he thought his mate needed to be alone, so be it.

Sunstar eventually emerged to sit vigil that night, silently sitting by Locustwish's head. Because of the cold, it wasn't safe to stay all night and Sprucebird convinced Sunstar to return to the nursery. The next morning, Sunstar spoke: "Locustwish, my son, gave his life to protect his kits. They're DriftClan's blood, my blood, and I will raise them as my own."

It was Sprucebird that named them: Cloudykit for the grey tom, and Vinekit for the silver tabby she-kit.

Later that moon, DriftClan gained yet another member. At least temporarily. Wrensong, Shiveringrise and Rowanvalley encountered a cinnamon swirled molly staggering through the snow, delirious with fever. They'd somehow gotten her to Darkcloud, who was willing to take her in--DriftClan had plenty of herbs, including catmint to treat her greencough.

Why she was so far into the forest was anyone's guess, as she had a purple collar around her neck. Shouldn't the twolegs have taken care of her? She was on our territory, though, which made it DriftClan's problem, unless we were okay with letting strange cats die in the cold. Even in the old territory, rife with war, it would have been hard to turn away a cat so clearly in need.

Hopefully she survives. It's a cold moon and so far the fever hasn't let up.


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MOON 47
late winter, icy


Aloecreek cowered as Shiveringrise snarled above her. He raised a paw and before I knew what was happening I was moving, throwing myself between them, taking the blow meant for Aloecreek on my own shoulder. "What was that for?" he snapped, surprised, claws red with my blood.

I growled, shuffling Aloecreek behind me. "A warrior does not strike a Clanmate. Ever."

Shiveringrise's snarl was a sneer. "You did."

And I did again, striking Shiveringrise across the ear. My claws were carefully sheathed, but the blow was strong enough that he cried out. "I shouldn't have." Both this time and the first.

"Brownfur!" Sunstar's voice called across the clearing. "I give punishments to DriftClan's warriors, not you."

"He would have struck Aloecreek," I said evenly, but I stood, letting Shiveringrise go. The chocolate tom shook his fur, grooming his shoulders. Sunstar gave me a pointed stare and I narrowed my eyes in challenge.

I couldn't miss my daughters rushing up to help. Snaildusk to Shiveringrise, Wrensong to Aloecreek, making sure they were okay. Good.

Rowanvalley shot me a question with her eyes, but at my slight nod she turned to Sunstar instead. "What did Aloecreek do this time?"

The growl that broke from my throat was unexpected to all parties. "She did nothing. Shiveringrise threatened her."

"He must have had a reason," Sunstar mewed. "He's a good warrior--"

"He was unprovoked." I unsheathed my claws, more in frustration than as a threat, but I saw Sunstar's eyes flick, the tom take a half-step back, and victory burned. "It's a leader's job to give punishments," I said, flicking my tail to Shiveringrise. "But if I could weigh in, apprentice duties for a moon was typical for a cat that dared strike out against a fellow warrior."

I left before he could snap at me or I could snap back. Darkcloud jumped when I stomped into the healer's den, shoulder matted with blood. "What happened?"

"Just a misunderstanding."


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MOON 48
early spring, thaw


Tremblebracken came back to camp with a kittypet in tow. She was a beautiful molly, with long, silky fur and a rainbow ribbon tied around her neck. She called herself Banshee and said that the sick kittypet we took in last moon was a close friend of hers.

"His name is Victor," Banshee said, and she had the oddest accent I've ever heard, with high vowels and short consonants, like she was swallowing half the sounds. Banshee was as old as I was and admitted that she'd never left her twoleg den before, but was so good at arguing that Sunstar couldn't find a valid reason to turn her away that she didn't easily rebuke.

I spent the moon mostly in camp. Sunstar had resumed most of his roles as leader and Sprucebird, being deputy, didn't have the time--or patience--to kit-sit. So I fell into that role, along with Albatrosstooth. Cloudykit was already shaping up to be a pawful: fueled by spite, punishments only made the young tom act out even more. It was exhausting finding appropriate outlets for his energy, and it didn't help that Vinekit wouldn't ever stand up for herself.

Albatrosstooth returned to camp one day, shaken, and I learned that a cliff fell out from under her on patrol. By StarClan's miracles she was unharmed, but she spent the next few days in the nursery with the kits until she felt safe again.

I also helped Darkcloud collect new-leaf herbs. I couldn't help but tease him, just a little, for throwing me out of the healer's den the last time I'd offered that leaf-fall. He didn't need to apologize, but he did. "You spent so much time with Fogpool, then Faithspot. I didn't want to feel like an apprentice," Darkcloud said.

"It's alright," I assured him, cutting another garlic shoot with a claw. "I was being a mother bird again. I deserved it."

The back and forth about who was in the wrong lasted all morning, but at least it distracted us from the stench of garlic.

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MOON 49
mid spring, sunshowers


I knew Tremblebracken wanted my advice. He wasn't very good at hiding it: his tail twitched, he flinched whenever a cat would move in the corner of his eye, and he wasn't even listening to my awesome story. "There were six of them, ten. With green fur and red eyes--"

"Mhm, red eyes."

I poked Tremblebracken in the shoulder and he nearly jumped from his fur. "Spit it out," I said bluntly. I shifted on the stone, my bones aching from how long I'd been waiting on Tremblebracken to gather his courage. "You know you can ask me anything."

His yellow eyes went wide. Then: "I want to ask Snaildusk to be mates." A pause. "But does she even like me? I know she liked Locustwish and is it too soon?"

"Wrensong was the one that liked Locustwish," I said.

Tremblebracken stared. Then, hesitantly, as if he thought the words weren't his to say: "Uh, Wrensong was only flirting with him to make Snaildusk jealous. Snaildusk had a crush on him since we were apprentices."

"Oh." The pause this time was awkward and I was the one shuffling my paws. How had I not seen that? "Um, well. You should still ask Snaildusk what she thinks. The worst she could say is no, right? And, well. I already consider you family, Tremblebracken."

"Thanks." Another silence.

The awkward conversation was worth it, though, when three days later Snaildusk burst into the nursery where Rowanvalley and I were watching the kits, a wide smile across her face to rival the sun's glow. "Tremblebracken asked me out," she said, and she was so happy I didn't need to ask what her answer was. I wrapped Snaildusk in an embrace, her purr rumbling against my chest.

Stars, they grow up so fast.

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MOON 50
late spring, rebirth


I woke up and I felt good. Great, even. I stretched and my back wasn’t sore; there wasn’t a lingering cold in my paws or a phantom ache in my front paw that had been strained one too many times. I stood and nearly shot out of my nest.

I felt like I could jump to the sun and back, easy.

I was going to have a great day.

I felt light as air as I pranced across the clearing to the fresh-kill pile. Did squirrel always smell this good? A sudden surge of hunger clawed at my stomach and I took the whole thing for myself, dragging it over to Rowanvalley. "Morning!" I said, and my voice tickled my ears.

I dug into the squirrel, purring my pleasure at the taste. Rowanvalley was silent. She was never silent. I looked up, concerned, to find the red spotted molly staring at me with wide eyes, stunned, like I'd grown another tail. I looked around, looked down--

My scars were gone. All of them and I'd had plenty: the one across my front paw from the tree root, my patchy tail from the dog, the bridge of my nose, which I couldn't see but I usually could feel when I wrinkled my lip, stiff and pinching. Gone.

And my fur. I hadn't seen it shine like this since--well, I couldn't even remember. My muscles weren't as bulky as usual, but lithe and coiled like snakes. I curled my claws, watched them slide. I felt... young.

But then my hunger kicked and my gut went hollow. "Brownfur," Rowanvalley mewed, her voice sharp with concern. "Are you pregnant?"

Darkcloud's eyes did the same thing Rowanvalley's had, the young healer freezing in shock as we snuck into the healer's den. "What in StarClan's name--" He rushed over, poked a nose into my flank. I winced. Rowanvalley and I watched in silence as Darkcloud poked and prodded, paced in circles, then came back to prod me some more.

"What happened to me?" I finally said, unable to hold back the question.

He shook his head. "I-I don't know?" He walked once more around me, brushing gently against my stomach. "If you were a passing loner, I would have sworn to StarClan itself that you were a queen younger than myself only a moon out from kitting."

I looked to Rowanvalley for support but she just shrugged. "That's what I thought, too."

"How?"

"I don't know! Last night, you were... you, Brownfur. Now?" He gestured with his tail my direction. Darkcloud shook his head again, as if there were buzzing flies at his ears. "You're going to have two kits, maybe three. I would have been worried about the pregnancy at your age, but now I don't know what to think. Stars, you're too far along, we couldn't have missed it..." A pause as he paced, then, quietly: "How?"

Rowanvalley brought me to the nursery. What else was there to do? Sunstar was there with Cloudykit and Vinekit and his breath caught as I walked in. "Brownfur, what--when--how" he spluttered.

"Still working on it," I said, picking a nest. It wasn't the most comfortable--the moss probably hadn't been changed since leaf-fall, but my legs were wobbling and I didn't trust myself not to collapse right there on the floor.

Sunstar had many questions, but Rowanvalley--bless her--deflected most of them. "She just... woke up this way."

"How in StarClan's name--" Sunstar was almost yelling. Sprucebird had already come by to take Vinekit and Cloudykit away, only hesitating long enough to stare at me for a few moments before he blinked and took the kits outside.

I didn't know how I could go from having such a wonderful morning to such a terrible one so quickly. Or how I could feel like I could jump to the sun to being so exhausted I could barely lift my head from my paws.

But I did know that feeling, I thought with a jolt. "It was new-leaf," I said, silencing Sunstar and Rowanvalley as they turned to listen. "I had just gotten my warrior name...

Thornfall came with me to the healer's den, supporting me as I listened to Kestrelheart. Fogpool--Fogpaw, then--was at my stomach, poking where her mentor instructed. I was eighteen moons old and was expecting Thornfall's kits.

"Two kits," Kestrelheart had said. "But they're very weak."

"They'd better survive," Thornfall demanded, and I was too weak to remind him that it wasn't Kestrelheart's fault.

It was mine.

The birth was messy. Both kits stillborn, cold as snowflakes on my tongue. "Trauma-- These things happen-- Your next litter--" I could barely hear Kestrelheart's words. Only the two kits, who had never taken a breath, never felt their hearts beat, smelled their Clan.

My voice whispered the words, a memory that ached, still raw. My stomach kicked and I curled tighter. "StarClan gave me another chance."

MOON 0

"I will do what I can," Lionfur said, his deep voice gruff, but with a hint of warmness that Hollyhock was beginning to pick up on. "But StarClan does not favor her. I'm afraid they will not give her their blessing."

The cat in question, a golden speckled molly, lay shivering in one of the lichen-and-cloth nests Lionfur arranged in his healer's den. Her collar clinked, metal-on-metal, with each spasm, a jingle seeming to mock her coughs as she hacked and spat. Red dribbled from her jaw, a trail of dark blood staining the grey lichens, flecked with the herbs Lionfur was attempting to feed her. The white and ginger tom rested a paw on her flank, then shook his head. "I will try."

"That's all we ask, brother," Clearfluff murmured, butting her head against Lionfur's shoulder. Hollyhock watched from the side, observing without interfering. She'd done her part bringing the sickly housecat here after she and Clearfluff followed the sour stench of illness to the quivering molly. It was only Hollyhock's fifth day at the gorge and despite the small Clan's warm welcome and promises that she was blessed, she still felt like an outsider passing through.

There was only so much she could stand, watching the housecat suffer under Lionfur's careful paws, and eventually Hollyhock muttered an excuse to leave. She should hunt before the sun went down; Brightclaw's kits needed to eat.

---

MOON 1

As Lionfur predicted, the housecat died a few suns after the full moon. The full moon was important to Clan cats, Brooktalon said, explaining to Hollyhock how the other Clans gathered and shared news in peace. "Tha' our Clans aren't usually fightin'," Brooktalon explained. Unlike Lionfur, who spoke slowly and smoothly, the old molly tried to fit as many words into a heartbeat as she could, clipping the ends and squashing syllables together in her haste to get them out of her mouth as fast as possible. "W'all have plenty o'space. N'need for stealin' prey when w'all have 'nough t'spare."

"GoldenClan didn't attend the Gathering," Hollyhock said.

Brooktalon's smile was punctuated by a lack of several teeth. "We don't hava leader. Yet."

The grey molly's pointed stare was obvious enough, and Hollyhock shook her head. "I'm not a Clan cat."

"Nonsense, y'were chosen."

"I chose nothing," Hollyhock mewed, pushing back. The more she heard about being in a Clan, being a leader, the more she wanted that, more than anything. But she hated being pushed down a path, hated being told what to do, and so she pushed.

Brooktalon rolled her eyes. "Y'don't get t'choose. StarClan choses. Y'listen."

She didn't. Then Brightclaw sprained a paw. Then young Burnetkit suffered with a headache that Lionfur couldn't cure. Hollyhock heard whispers: "It's StarClan," Clearfluff said; "They brought a leader to us, but we have not presented her to the Whispering Cave," Lionfur mewed; "They're punishing us," Brooktalon asserted.

Lionfur brought Hollyhock along to gather herbs. The goldenrod shoots were bright and, to her, looked exactly like all the other stems and grasses poking through the cold earth. But Lionfur quietly explained the difference and drew a claw around the clump.

"Make certain you don't slice the roots," he explained softly as he demonstrated. "Excavate a whisker-length around the stem cluster, loosening the soil, then a gentle pull--" the white tomcat took the shoot between his teeth, plucking it free, and shook the dirt from delicate white roots. "We're transplanting, not harvesting, so be careful."

Patience was something Hollyhock knew well, and they seemed to be in no rush as they worked. She freed one shoot from the ground, then a second, careful and precise as the healer showed her. Then: "I thought mollies weren't supposed to help with healing," she said, teasing in tone, but with a serious tilt to her ear as she carefully watched the white tom for his response.

He flinched a little, his pale ginger ears flicking back, his nose scrunching for a heartbeat before his expression returned neutral, like a calm pond. "Ah," he said. He bent and finished the shoot he was working at before she'd asked, adding it to the small pile before he looked up and met her eye. "But you aren't a part of GoldenClan, so it doesn't count."

There was a pause, his blue eyes focused inward, his paws tensed, before he made his choice, blinking with a small nod she only noticed because she was watching him so closely. "Hollyhock," he said, more firmly than she'd ever heard him before. "You must become GoldenClan's leader."

She recoiled, about to bite back, but he silenced her with narrowed eyes. "No, some things a cat does not choose for herself. I did not choose to be born to Brooktalon or to be GoldenClan's last medicine cat. My mother did not choose to be the last of her Clan's fading memory. Brightclaw did not choose to join our Clan, not really. No, our paws, our paths, they were chosen for us by StarClan, just like yours is.

"The only difference is that all of us?" He gestured with a paw to the forest, the gorge, GoldenClan's camp beyond. "Understood that some things are simply up to fate, and that we can only choose how we can best follow the path laid out for us." Lionfur's blue eyes were cold as he stared into Hollyhock's, and she knew now that he hadn't needed her help with the goldenrod at all. "You will become GoldenClan's leader tonight. Will you choose to go willingly? Or will you try and fight your fate, dooming all of us because you are too cowardly to face your destiny?"

Lionfur's right eye winked in the sun, flashing gold, and for a moment it was Whiskerpaw's gaze that held her in place, a sparkling fog trickling from Lionfur's shoulders. She couldn't hide from those sun-and-moon eyes. No matter how far she ran, how desperately she hid. "Okay," she said, surprising herself by how easy it was to let go, let something else guide her paws. It was like she'd been wrapped tightly by vines her whole life, and only now understood what it was like to breathe, to move. "What do I need to do?"

---

MOON 2

When Hollystar emerged from the cave, she was a different cat. Her blue-and-gold eyes were brighter, somehow, a white flare on her head almost glowing. She felt light as a feather, but immovable as a boulder. When she looked down on her gathered Clanmates, she saw them in a way she had never before: Brooktalon, telling a story to Burnetkit and Owlkit, wasn't just an old molly entertaining the youth, she was a lake feeding a stream memories of the ocean; blossoms popped from fur as Lionfur carefully tended to Brightclaw's sprain, the delicate petals soothing and shielding; Clearfluff, looking up at her, was a cat Hollystar knew she would trust with her life--lives, again and again until she had nothing left to give.

The gorge exploded with color. Were the orange bands always so soft, like kittens' fur? The well-worn paths between cavern dens glistened with dewy pawprints, the tumble of water echoed with ceremonies long past. She could taste the names of newly named warriors on her tongue: Cherrytail, Iceleap, Cloverdawn, Dappleflame. Generations of kits collided into a tangle of fur, tumbling across the flat stone beside the creek, splashing in the shallows, squeaking with joy.

Hollystar let a purr roll down her chest, settling into her stone perch to look over GoldenClan. Her Clan. She felt something inside her click, like claws perfectly slotted into the ridges of bark, satisfying and right and like destiny. 

---
CW: blood mention, vague descriptions of kit birth

Lionfur's search for borage wasn't going particularly well. The flowering plant wouldn't be flowering yet, and while he often found borage in the mixed forest no-man's-land between GoldenClan and HatchClan, they didn't grow back in the same place every year, making tracking them down even more difficult, even for Lionfur, an experienced healer. But he'd used the last of the herb on Brightclaw and it was always good to have a stock just in case. Borage was mainly used on queens to help their milk, but it was also good for fevers and lungs in a pinch and, while difficult to track down, tended to grow plentifully and in large clumps, perfect for mass collection even in spring.

So Lionfur wandered, looking with his eyes for the familiar stalks, but also trusting his nose to pick up the plant's distinct scent. He made a methodical sweep of the region: back and forth, north to south, moving east, closer towards HatchClan, with every pass. Eventually StarClan would guide him to some. On the way, he picked up some other herbs: burnet, evergreen, was an easy one to spot and also had been mostly depleted during Brightclaw's pregancy; chickweed, which already had small white flowers, easy to spot against the dark carpet of fallen leaves; and thyme, easily identified by the pungent smell, also joined his bundle.

When he smelled coppery blood, even over the tang of herbs in his jaw, he knew there was trouble. The suppressed yowl of a cat followed, a specific tune that Lionfur could identify anywhere: a queen giving birth. His paws sped across leaves, then pine needles, pulling him closer and closer to HatchClan's border. Why would a Clan queen be away from camp? Anxiety prickled his pelt, but as a medicine cat, duty called him forward.

Even if HatchClan didn't know GoldenClan existed, the medicine cat code would protect him.

Lionfur found the sandy-colored molly between the roots of a white pine, her back arched and breathing heavy. The sharp bite of blood still painted his tongue, but he was relieved to see there wasn't as much as he feared there would be. The molly hissed as he approached, her eyes glassy with pain and terror, and he dipped his head, lowered his tail, approached at a low crouch to appear as non-threatening as possible. Her eyes flicked to the herbs in his jaw and she relaxed before immediately tensing as another ripple passed down her flank.

He dropped the herbs. "I'm a medicine cat," he mewed. "Lionfur. You're doing great, everything looks fine." He came closer, gave her time to push him away, but when she only lowered her head her continued until he could touch her flank. "How many kits?"

"Two." The queen's voice hissed between indrawn breaths. From this close, it was clear she was HatchClan, the pine-needle scent twisting with something more delicate and floral: mountain rose.

Lionfur knew what to do. When the first kit came, he made sure to coax his first breath, placing the light tabby tom at the queen's stomach before grabbing the second and doing the same, this a darker molly. He ran a paw over her stomach, but though she quivered and shook, he didn't feel the bulk of another kit beneath the flesh. "Only two," he reassured, pushing the small she-kit closer.

The sandy-colored queen gathered her breath and Lionfur let her recover, politely stepping away so she could greet her kits. He instead recovered his bundle of herbs, unpackaging and repackaging them together while he waited, mostly so the queen felt she could take her time without him looming overhead. After a few moments, she looked up from the bundles of fur towards him. "You're from GoldenClan, aren't you?" she asked, and his eyes snapped up, surprised.

"GoldenClan?" he asked, leading.

"I... had a dream. A small tom cat, with eyes like the sun and moon, led me to the gorge. He said: 'GoldenClan needs her.' He took my kit from my stomach, in the dream, and she walked up the cliffs, growing up until she stood at the biggest cave, a full grown warrior, and followed him inside."

Lionfur took a few steps closer, and when she didn't protest, sat. He pointed a paw to the dark molly and she nodded. "GoldenClan was reborn a quarter moon ago, when StarClan sent us a leader. StarClan sent you to us as well; you will be welcomed in GoldenClan."

The queen dipped her head, licking first the dark molly, then the lighter tabby tom kit. "Yes, and StarClan sent you to escort us there. Thank you."

She introduced herself as Gravelsplash, named the tabby tom Hazelkit, "after his grandsire," and the chocolate smoke molly Dreamkit, "because that's where I first laid eyes on her, in my dreams."

---

MOON 3

Only a few suns after Gravelsplash and her kits settled into the nursery, Clearfluff found Brooktalon cold in her nest. Even as she and Lionfur mourned the loss of their mother, the two had small smiles on their faces. "She had lived her entire life, over a hundred moons, waiting for StarClan to send GoldenClan a leader," Clearfluff said, the usually succinct molly loose with her words as she touched her nose to Brooktalon's fur. "She'll rest easy in their ranks, now that her dream has been made reality."

Hollystar felt StarClan's breath on her spine as she bent down, touching Brooktalon's ear with her nose. Flashes of the molly's life pressed against her eyes, watching in snapshots as the young warrior grew experienced, grew old, protected the land she still called home, sitting her own private vigil atop the peak of the gorge every full moon, eyes closed as she basked in StarClan's glow. "You're GoldenClan now, Hollyhock," she heard the elder's voice whisper, dancing inside her ears.

Brooktalon would live in the brightest star, GoldenClan's first guardian.

It was only right that GoldenClan name new apprentices under Brooktalon's watchful gaze: Hollystar called the meeting at dusk, when the brightest stars could watch over them. "Clearfluff, your first apprentice will be Burnetpaw. I'm certain you'll teach her GoldenClan's ways just as Brooktalon taught you." The dark ginger apprentice nearly knocked Clearfluff over in her enthusiasm, grinning ear to ear as Burnetpaw spun circles around her new mentor.

Owlkit, the quieter of the two, watched with sharp eyes as Hollystar called her forward. "I will train Owlpaw," she said, and didn't miss how Owlpaw's ambition flickered like fire in her amber eyes. "My own paws might not have much experience as a warrior, but now..." Hollystar closed her eyes, felt the flicker of past leaders warm her breath as they ghosted beneath her fur. She shivered, unable to keep the sensation internal. "Now, I have the experience of all of GoldenClan's history to draw on, and it is my honor and my duty to pass that knowledge to another."

Owlpaw's nose was warm against her own as Hollystar hopped from her perch to greet her new apprentice. Even as this was the first time Hollystar performed this ceremony, she felt the echoes of many other apprentices' noses against hers. Even, surprisingly, feeling herself in Owlpaw's pawprints, reaching up for her mentor's approval, heart leaping with acceptance.

On her first patrol, Owlpaw caught a shrew. Burnetpaw, too excited to control her paws, took another few days to make her first catch: a small sparrow. 

---

MOON 4


She should have expected the heat. Hollystar had never been in a place so hot, the sun pushing down on her back like a pelt heavy with dripping fire. She had pushed through the patrol regardless of her discomfort and ended up in Lionfur's den for her troubles. "Heat exhaustion: a moderate illness brought upon by extended exposure to hot conditions, in which the body temperature spikes suddenly. Symptoms include dizziness, thirst, weakness and nausea."

Hollystar grunted, spreading out on the shaded stone, relishing the chill against her fur. Lionfur brought her a scrap of moss soaked in water and she drank greedily. "Treatment: bring the patient to shade, give them plenty of water, and enforce rest until symptoms subside."

She licked the water from her lips, letting her head fall to her paws. Ironically, she felt the need to shiver, her muscles trembling. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon," Hollystar reassured him, and Lionfur chuckled, flicking his ginger-tipped ears.

He moved on to Burnetpaw, who had gotten a splinter in her paw while training. His deep, soothing voice was pleasant as he explained all the herbs he used to help stop the itching and prevent infection after he removed the scrap of wood, calming Burnetpaw and providing Hollystar with a backdrop of his voice as she rested. 

"I brought some prey." The voice was Gravelsplash's, the queen's eyes darting around the space, noting Hollystar's sprawled form before flicking to Lionfur cleaning the herbs after finishing Burnetpaw's wrap. He shooed the apprentice away and welcomed Gravelsplash into the den with a smile and a flick of his tail, pulling some of the nervous tension from the sandy-colored molly's shoulders.

He took the swallow from her jaws. "You didn't need to bring me anything, I haven't forgotten where the fresh-kill pile is," he teased, twitching his whiskers. "But thank you, I do appreciate the sentiment."

Hollystar appreciated the guesture too: it meant the former HatchClan queen was trying to make connections in GoldenClan. She admired Gravelsplash's dedication to her new Clan, her dedication toward helping Dreamkit reach the potential of her namesake. Hollystar's heart had gone out to her after hearing the queen's story, and she might have imagined the brush of cold fur against her shoulder, but she imagined Whiskerpaw's presence had been real as the breeze ruffling her fur.

"Oh, perhaps the Stars seeded the thought in your head," Lionfur said, turning back to where his nest lay between piles of herbs. He plucked out a blue ribbon, bright as a sliver of sky, fluttering between his teeth as he brought it over to Gravelsplash and placed it between her paws. "For Dreamkit. I--I discovered it yesterday morning, and last night had a dream, an idea really, that it should be hers."

Gravelsplash touched the ribbon with a paw, as if she couldn't believe something so bright wasn't a mirage. "Thank you," she said, her eyes wide, but Lionfur only dipped his head.

Only after Gravelsplash left, the ribbon held tightly but gently between her teeth, did Hollystar raise her head. "Discovered?" she pushed. Her throat was still dry, scratchy, and she coughed after the word.

"I'll get you more water," the healer said, dodging her question.

Lionfur swallowed as he left the den, trotting across camp to the pool. He scraped some moss from the rock tumble and soaked it. He didn't want to remember the cat's limp body he'd found under a bush, thin and starved, the smell of decay beginning to set in. Lionfur had only missed her passing by a few hours. The blue ribbon had been tied around her neck, waving gently in the breeze, but when he'd stepped forward to investigate further, it had somehow unraveled from her fur and floated to his paws, a gift he couldn't refuse.

He'd buried her. It was the least he could do. But he kept the ribbon: something told him that taking the ribbon home was the right thing to do. And then the dream, where he saw the ribbon twist from where he'd put it, float across invisible zephyrs like a snake, or maybe a stream, out of his den, down the cliffside into the nursery, where it had wrapped itself snugly around Dreamkit's sleeping form...

Lionfur shook himself, grabbed the saturated moss from the pool and returned to Hollystar. She thanked him and drank again. Even as leader, she didn't need to know; the ribbon and the dream were between Lionfur and StarClan.

---

MOON 5

Gravelsplash flicked her ears, glaring over the tumble of stones to the opposite side of the gorge.

Dreamkit--blue ribbon streaming behind her--was chasing Hazelkit across the stone. Hazelkit leaped into the shallow water, sticking out his tongue when his sister skidded to a stop at the edge, unwilling to wet her paws to follow. Gravelsplash wasn't worried: the pale tom-kit had taken to swimming as quickly as she had when she was his age, and the pool created by the rockfall was so calm and shallow, even a kitten could wade around safely.

Still, she kept one eye on her kits even as she watched the opposite bank. Her ears were perked tall, trying to listen closer.

Gravelsplash swore she could hear voices over there.

Brightclaw leaped from boulder to boulder, elegantly springing across gaps that seemed impossible to cross. Now that the kits had reached a standstill in their game, both their heads had swiveled to watch the young warrior's act of daring, their eyes wide as they tracked her back and forth, back and forth, never taking the same route twice and always jumping for greater heights. Gravelsplash held her breath as Brightclaw sailed in a particularly impressive leap, landing solidly on the other side and licking at her chest as if she didn't realize many cats would need to sprout wings from their paws to perform the same feat.

Brightclaw noticed Gravelsplash's eyes and excitedly waved her tail in greeting, racing down a precarious tumble to join her below. "Wonderful day!" the orange-and-grey molly greeted as she came to a stop beside the queen, an exhilarated grin on her face. "Too nice to sit still, at any rate. Say, Clearfluff and Burnetpaw are in camp today, whatcha say about getting out and about the territory?"

The territory, right. GoldenClan had attended their first Gathering last moon, announcing themselves as a full Clan. Gravelsplash hadn't gone, hadn't wanted her HatchClan Clanmates to know where she'd disappeared to, not quite yet. She didn't know how to explain that to Morningstar...

Gravelsplash's eyes flicked across the gorge again, catching those voices, whispering. She narrowed her eyes, but saw nothing. Brightclaw followed her gaze, eyes furrowed, then laughed brightly. "Oh! No one's told you about the Whispering Cave yet! No wonder you're twitchy as a mama hawk." She laughed again, not at Gravelsplash's ignorance, but a bright thing of mirth unable to be contained. "I thought I was crazy too, 'til Clearfluff took me in there to see it. There's a mossy cave between the stones--I swear it's bigger on the inside--where StarClan lives. The moss literally glows, it's crazy! When it's quiet, though, you can hear 'em whispering. That's why they call it the Whispering Cave, after all.

"Here, let's get the kits to Clearfluff. I promise, she won't let anything happen to them, she's really protective of the little ones," Brightclaw mewed, bumping Gravelsplash's shoulder with her own.

Gravelsplash didn't know quite how she felt about leaving her kits alone, but she did itch to take advantage of the wonderful weather and, well, she'd decided to trust the GoldenClan cats so far. Another leap of faith--perhaps not as extravagant as Brightclaw's leaps across the boulders--would be good to cement her trust. And she found she did trust Brightclaw's opinion: the other molly had been a queen herself, after all, and if she trusted Clearfluff with Burnetpaw, Gravelsplash felt comfortable allowing her to watch over her own kits, at least for a few hours.

They convinced Dreamkit and Hazelkit to continue their games in the nursery, where Burnetpaw and Clearfluff worked to change the bedding with fresh moss. "They need a good role model," Brightclaw murmured to her daughter, Burnetpaw, before the two queens left. "Teach 'em what you've learned. It'll help you remember, and be entertaining for the kits."

And then they were off. Brightclaw took the lead, moderating her pace to accommodate Gravelsplash's uncertain paws up the side of the gorge. The path they took was well-worn and easy to travel even if the sandy molly wasn't brave enough to look down. They fell into easy conversation along the way, stopping every so often for Brightclaw to point out a landmark or prime hunting spot. Oaks and beeches turned to pines, a familiar smell that made Gravelsplash sink into silence as homesickness washed over her.

"I miss this," she said softly, very grateful she decided to come along after all. They were headed towards HatchClan's border, the only solid border GoldenClan shared with another Clan. Nerves prickled at Gravelsplash's paws. It was too late for a dawn patrol, and hunting patrols rarely came this close to the border, but she was still nervous to be spotted by a Clanmate, terrified of being recognized, questioned. Her breath caught as fresh HatchClan scent, familiar to her as her own mother's, filled her nose.

Brightclaw smelled it too, pausing mid-step to part her jaw, turning to search for the source. Her eyes locked on and the GoldenClan warrior pulled herself into a hunter's crouch, stalking between the sparse undergrowth to investigate. Gravelsplash had to force her paws to follow, provide back-up for her new fellow Clanmate: if HatchClan wasn't respecting GoldenClan's new borders, trying to antagonize the new Clan... It wasn't like Morningstar, but she wouldn't put it past the deputy, Thrushfang, to take it into her own paws.

Instead, she spotted a familiar black-and-red tabby pelt in the scattered pine needles. "Mosspaw?" The apprentice leaped several tail-lengths into the air, her fur puffed like a cloud around her, making the apprentice nearly as large as Brightclaw, who had snuck only a few tail-lengths away without Mosspaw noticing. "What are you doing here?" Gravelsplash continued. "This is GoldenClan's territory now--"

"And you're trespassing," Brightclaw said bluntly.

"I-I-I," Mosspaw stuttered, trying to get her fur to still but unable to calm the shivering of her limbs. She'd always been a nervous cat, even as a kitten. Mosspaw took a deep breath and found the words. "I was looking for you, Gravelsplash," she finally said. "I smelled you on a GoldenClan cat's fur, I thought--I thought they might have taken you away!"

Brightclaw turned to the sandy molly, a question evident in her eyes. "You didn't tell them?"

Gravelsplash shook her head, embarrassment heating the tips of her ears, hot enough she'd expected the fur to turn ginger like Lionfur's. "I didn't know what I should say."

Brightclaw's tail flicked low in annoyance, but her aggressive posture melted away. This made Mosspaw a little bolder, and the apprentice spoke up: "are you safe? Are the kits safe?"

Gravelsplash's heart melted at the apprentice's compassion, ready to sneak into another Clan's territory alone to look for a Clanmate and her kits. It almost made her regret leaving HatchClan, leaving that faithful and kind group of cats she'd spent all her life loving and protecting. "I am. I joined GoldenClan of my own free will, with StarClan's blessing leading my paws."

That seemed to be enough to satisfy the calico apprentice, and she gave a small smile that warmed Gravelsplash to her core. Then she winced. "Uh, Morningstar is still sending search parties looking for you... Rootshine thinks you're dead... I'm pretty sure Dustfreckle is behind the rumors that you ran off to be a kittypet..." 

"Of course she did," Gravelsplash muttered, sighing. "Tell them... I'll be at the next Gathering, okay? It's only a few suns, they can wait to hear from me." Nerves tingled in her gut even as she made the promise, words jumbling together to figure out what she was going to say. 

"Okay, now get back to your Clan," Brightclaw interrupted, flicking her tail towards the HatchClan border. "Before your Clan starts sending search parties for you."

---

MOON 6

She didn't understand. 

"But I need Hazelkit for mossball!" Dreamkit pleaded, prodding her paws into Gravelsplash's hip. She knew if she pushed too hard, Momma would snap at her, but... anything was better than the quiet. Dreamkit shook her head, the blue ribbon tangling between her ears. "Owlpaw's too busy and Burnetpaw's too fast, Momma. Hazelkit lets me win..."

Gravelsplash didn't move, frozen as a boulder in her nest. "Mommmaaaa."

Dreamkit squeaked as somecat picked her up by the scruff, lifting her paws off the ground. She flailed about for a few moments, desperately trying to latch her claws onto something to pull away, but the tiny smoke molly couldn't reach. She huffed her displeasure but fell limp, her rear bumping into the cat's chest as they carried her away. Dreamkit looked up, saw Brightclaw's familiar grey fur. "Why can't you bring Hazelkit back?" she asked, and Brightclaw's measured steps stuttered, paused, causing the young molly to swing in her jaws before she regained her tempo.

She wasn't ferried far, only to the empty elder's den next door to the nursery. It smelled of stale moss and dust. Dreamkit sneezed, her nose wrinkling, her eyes struggling to adjust to the gloomy space. Brightclaw set her down in the middle of the den then sat, curling her tail over her paws. "We can't bring Hazelkit back, Dreamkit."

The kit scrunched up her nose again, tiny tail tapping against the sandy stone. "He's just in the Whispering Cave, Momma said he's gonna sleep there--"

"Dreamkit," Brightclaw interrupted. Dreamkit puffed up, upset she'd been cut off in the middle of her story! But the older queen's eyes were steady and sad, and made Dreamkit's stomach twist when she looked down at her. "You know what death is. The swallow you ate this morning was dead, Dreamkit."

"Of course prey is dead, mousebrain," Dreamkit said, regretting her words as soon as Brightclaw's face darkened. Oh, that wasn't good. She wasn't supposed to call older cats 'mousebrain' (only Hazelkit, because he deserved it). She squeaked as Brightclaw lowered herself to eye level, but instead of snapping, the molly licked across her ears.

The queen pulled Dreamkit close to her chest, licking rhythmically across the dark kitten's flank, pulling a purr from her chest. She immediately felt drowsy. Did Hazelkit feel this way, before he fell asleep? "Hazelkit is dead, Dreamkit. Dead things don't wake up."

Dead. She understood.

"Oh."

Brightclaw continued to groom the kitten's fur, horrified Dreamkit had to learn about death this way, but knowing that she couldn't allow the young she-kit to continue imposing on Gravelsplash's grief and couldn't force the queen to have to be the one to explain, to confront Hazelkit's death with every word. It broke her heart to feel the young kitten tremble in her grasp.

No cat had seen the snake in the stones until far too late. By the time Gravelsplash had killed it, it was far too late to save the young kitten from the venom. At least he'd died quickly, Lionfur assured them with clouds in his eyes.

So Brightclaw sat with Dreamkit in the privacy of the elder's den, holding her close and murmuring soothing nothings until the kitten had exhausted her emotions and fell into a deep sleep. She carefully scooped the kitten up in her jaws and took her back to the nursery, tucking her safely into the curl of Gravelsplash's sandy-furred stomach.

The queen's eyes glittered as she looked up and Brightclaw gave her the softest smile she could muster, dipping her head slightly before leaving the two alone. "Thank you," Gravelsplash said, her voice low. Brightclaw only flicked her ear to acknowledge the words as she pressed her flanks through the small gap to the nursery and tried to take a deep breath of her own.

---

Clearfluff sighed in contentment. She welcomed the leaf-fall breeze after the hot, stagnant-aired greenleaf GoldenClan had endured, relaxing atop a boulder in comfort as Hollystar worked with both their apprentices below. It was odd, watching the young leader teach: she was assured and confident on some points, but on others she paused, looking into the middle distance before replying.

"When'a Clan leader gets the'r nine lives," Brooktalon had said to her and Lionfur many times, the three of them curled in the apprentice's den. The warrior's cave was much too large for their little family, so Clearfluff had lived most of her life in the smaller apprentice's cave. "They get more th'n just another life. A bit o'the soul sticks too, th'personality, th'feelin's. Th'memories too. And not like they're som' other cats', naw, it's like y'lived it."

Clearfluff always dreamed she'd be a leader one day. She had the right fur, brown and ginger bleeding together like a sunset. She'd even sneaked into the Whispering Cave herself: once as a young cat, with sharp teeth and a sharper ego; and another time when Brooktalon was very ill, desperation to realize her mother's dream pulling her paws to the glowing cavern. Both times, she'd dreamed of StarClan. Both times, they'd told her that she wasn't ready to be GoldenClan's leader.

That first time she'd returned angry and sullen, cursing StarClan's name, claiming they were wrong for turning her away. Only Lionfur's careful tending had kept Brooktalon's punishment from leaving a scar after that one. The second time she'd turned the blame on herself: what did she do wrong, that StarClan didn't believe in her? What inside her was so flawed...

She'd never truly gotten over that, not really, not until Hollyhock had arrived in their camp, her sunrise-streaked eyes wide and blinking. When she laid eyes on that molly, she knew. Everything made sense.

Clearfluff watched as Hollystar corrected Owlpaw's stance, brushing her tail against the young molly's legs to encourage her to keep her posture tight, like a coiled snake. She quizzed the both of them on how to test the wind, and though Clearfluff couldn't hear well from her vantage, watched as the two competed to give Hollystar a better, more complete answer.

The deputy smiled, her tail flicking lazily against the stone. It was sun-high, not a star in the sky, but somehow she thought she could feel Brooktalon's eyes watching through her own. "They'll make good warriors," she said under her breath. "GoldenClan's first apprentices in over a hundred moons." Clearfluff stretched, tapping her claws against the stone as she stood. "I'd ask StarClan to guide their paws, but I know you're watching like a hawk from up there. Must be a great vantage, I'm almost jealous."

She dropped from the boulder, crouching to absorb the impact just as Brooktalon taught her. "Clearfluff! What do you think of this?" Burnetpaw asked, calling out to her as soon as she was close enough to hear.

---

Moon 7

Lionfur tried to shake the soreness from his paws. He'd spent far too much time last moon prowling the territory for herbs, finding little that was worth the effort he put in. Elder leaves and mullein were helpful, sure, but his stock was already overflowing with those. The rarer herbs he'd been searching for were nowhere to be found, despite longer and longer days venturing further and further from his usual spots.

He ranged outside of GoldenClan's borders. Why not? So long as he wasn't inside HatchClan's scent line, the southern forest was fair game in his eyes. He skirted the twoleg den--while it often had good herbs, he'd need a warrior escort to dare attempt crossing the fenceline--and pushed further into unfamiliar forest.

Lionfur took it slow. No use in taking unnecessary risks, after all, or missing herbs because he was unfamiliar with the dips in the landscape. He might have lost track of time, though, and by the time he'd noticed the sun was far lower than he was comfortable with, he was so far away from the border that he realized he wouldn't make it to familiar lands before it was fully dark.

He knew how to hunt. When it was only their small family at the gorge, he'd pulled his weight catching prey as well as tending to the herb stores. The last few moons had been the first in his life that he hadn't caught his own food, and while his skills got a little rusty, he still had no trouble snatching a wren from a bush to quell his rumbling stomach. Satiated, he nested himself under a thick bramble and settled in for the night, hoping Clearfluff would soothe the others over his absence.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd stayed in a bush overnight, having lost track of time.

He'd gotten soft, expecting plush mosses and the comfortable snores of his Clanmates around him. The darkness under the bush felt prickly, threatening, and every scratch of bark or enthusiastic gust of wind through the fallen leaves had him peeking open a blue eye. In the morning, it felt like he hadn't slept a wink. But at least he could see, so Lionfur set his paws on a path west and started plodding forward. He didn't have to be precise: he knew the top of the gorge for days' travel up- and downstream, and if he kept the sun at his back, he'd eventually find his way home.

He'd reached the top of the gorge by sunhigh, about another hour's walk downstream of camp. He was about to turn his paws north to complete his journey when he noticed a cat's blurred shape beside him. Light winked in their pelt--solid grey like Brooktalon's, but with a different build, and the sun-and-moon eyes that flashed were of the young guide Whiskerpaw. Lionfur watched the starry form walk the opposite way, its misty tail inviting him to follow.

Of course he did, he didn't have a choice.

There didn't look to be a path down the sheer edge of the gorge, but the StarClan guide seemed to manifest one and Lionfur's descent was easy as an afternoon stroll, placing his pawsteps in the shimmering edges the StarClan cat left in its wake. At the bottom, it disappeared.

Why had it brought him here? Lionfur looked around, tested the air, but saw and smelled nothing of note. The bubbling creek at the bottom hummed a familiar tune, wind trapped between the gorge's tall cliffs made the grit and dust into dancing clouds that shimmered in the sun-high glare. 

He stepped forward, called out: "Hello?" Had it not been for a small mewl that carried its way to his ears, he would have missed the eyes glowing from a shadowed crevasse in the gorge's wall: one reflecting white, the other orange. StarClan blessed, the white tom thought, his pale ginger tail-tip flicking. "I'm not here to hurt you," he assured.

Lionfur certainly was stumbling on plenty of cats lately. Was StarClan putting them in his path, now that GoldenClan had a leader? He certainly wouldn't have went out of his way without their guidance. Or was it even further back that he'd been following in StarClan's intended pawprints, pulling him further from the border and forcing him to find shelter that night?

He smiled, a warm and welcoming one, he hoped. "If you can believe it, I was sent here to help you," Lionfur said, his deep voice light. "I think so, at least." This late in the season, so far from newleaf floods, the river's flow was little more than a trickle and he easily hopped from one bank to the other. He didn't get too close to the crevasse, not within clawstrike range, but sat just outside, flicking his tail over his paws. From here, the mewling of kits was clear as birdsong.

"In my Clan, cats with two different colored eyes are thought to be blessed by StarClan," he continued, conversation coming as easily as if he were sitting beside Clanmates he'd known his entire life. "I know this might sound silly to you, but a StarClan cat--a spirit--brought me to you. I'm a medicine cat in GoldenClan. My first job is to heal any cat that is ill or injured, but it is also my job to honor our spirits as best as I can, and to interpret their messages. I think they wanted me to find you."

The trickling river made a backdrop to the silence. For a few heartbeats, Lionfur wondered if this cat wasn't able to hear him at all and he was making a fool of himself by talking, but then they poked a nose free of the shadows, revealing an orange pelt bright as fire. "I could use some help," she said, finally. Her eyes were even more enthralling in the light: the left shining silver, the right green with yellow flares. Two kits popped out of the crevasse on her heels, another two more hesitant in the shadows. "I really don't know what I'm doing."

Lionfur dipped his head, trying not to look too excited at GoldenClan's good fortunes as the queen extended her trust. Four kits and a StarClan blessed. "We have two queens back at camp that would be overjoyed to help," the healer said. "Our home is upstream, but it isn't far. We'll be there well before nightfall."

The ginger molly watched him with cautious bi-colored eyes, then, having made a choice, shooed the two shy kits from the crevasse to join the others. "Ginger is deaf," she explained, prodding the speckled tom. "And Dusty doesn't leave his side, they share the same tail."

"These two are energetic."

"Marigold and Valley, my girls. They're troublemakers, both of them," the queen offered, and the smile she gave them was one Lionfur thought was reserved for queens with newborn kits: soft, but fierce. "And I'm Bunny."

"My name is Lionfur. Pleasure to meet you, Bunny."

Wrangling the four kits was a challenge, especially because Marigold and Valley were just as troublesome as Bunny had warned him. Keeping the two she-kits from sticking their nose into a rattlesnake den was a full-time job and by the time they reached GoldenClan's camp, Lionfur felt like he'd walked double the distance, zig-zagging to corral them.

As he expected, Clearfluff was ecstatic to have another litter to dote upon, and even Gravelsplash managed a warm welcome, emerging from the nursery for the first time since Hazelkit's death last moon. She had a fresh spark in her eyes when she rushed over to pluck an exhausted Dusty from Bunny's jaws, helping the queen to the nursery. 

It was early evening, after hunting patrols returned but before the dusk patrol would be sent out, and every cat should be in camp sharing tongues, but Brightclaw was suspiciously absent. Clearfluff must have caught on to his searching eyes and nodded towards his den. "She's... having a time," his sister said, and at his spark of panic, she laughed. "Nothing serious. A sprained paw and allergies, I think. But you know Brightclaw."

If Clearfluff hadn't warned him, Lionfur would have thought the grey-and-ginger molly was about to join StarClan. She languished in the moss, snuffling with a leg stuck awkwardly behind her. "I'm not gonna--" her complaints were interrupted by a sharp sniffle, "be able to run for moooons."

Lionfur shook his head, already moving to the back of the den to pick some herbs. He started two piles: one for Brightclaw, the other some strengthening herbs for Bunny. "Here, let me take a look."

---

MOON 8

"I ask every cat to gather beneath the Highstone for a Clan meeting," Hollystar said. The first time she'd said the words, she'd felt as though she'd said them hundreds of times before. But those memories were over-sweet, not quite hers. This time, she was satisfied at how her own voice echoed between the stones.

She waited for cats to pull themselves out of their conversations, shifting their attention to Hollystar perched above. When every cat was ready, she began. "Owlpaw, step forward." Her apprentice's copper eyes glinted in the bright leaf-fall sun, her pride and ambition both stoking the fire that burned there. Hollypaw was surprised with how close she'd gotten to both Owlpaw and Burnetpaw in the short moons she'd been training the young mollies. They both excelled, but Owlpaw's analytical determination allowed her to learn more quickly than Burnetpaw's fearless enthusiasm, which was powerful but rather directionless.

"Owlpaw, you have shown mastery in all aspects of your training and it is my honor as your mentor to give you a warrior name. From this moment on, you will be known as Owlpool. StarClan will look upon you for your insight and fast thinking."

It was Brightclaw's job to cheer on her daughter's accomplishment, but Hollystar felt just as much pride bloom for the young molly as the Clan greeted their newest warrior by name. She let Owlpool have her moment, the golden marbled molly radiant with joy, but when the congratulations slowed, Hollystar drew attention back to her perch. "StarClan gave me another name to grant today. Dreamkit, step forward."

She'd warned Gravelsplash of the ceremony at dawn, and so Dreamkit's chocolate smoke fur was immaculately groomed, the blue ribbon about the molly's neck tied in a tidy bow. "Dreamkit, you are six moons old and are ready to become an apprentice. From this moment on, you'll be known as Dreampaw. I will take the place of your mentor." Hollystar had debated giving Dreampaw to Brightclaw, but the two mollies were equally headstrong and didn't often get along. When she'd realized Owlpool could take her name now, freeing herself up to take the molly as her own apprentice, the choice fit in a way that could only mean it was guided by StarClan's own paws.

Hollystar descended from the rock tumble to touch her nose against Dreampaw's. Unlike Owlpool's naked ambition, the hardness in Dreampaw's eyes was veiled by something... dark. It made Hollystar a little uncomfortable, and she made a point to get to the bottom of the shadows before they could wrap around the young molly's heart. Hollystar was about to dismiss the meeting when Bunny stepped forward.

The molly had been in the Clan for a little under a moon, but Hollystar knew she wasn't one to dance around her point. She was unsurprised when the newcomer didn't hesitate to speak up. "I would like for my kits to take Clan names too," she said. "I would like to stay in GoldenClan, if you'd have us."

Hollystar blinked, smiled, nodded. "Of course. StarClan led your paws to us, after all. You four," she called, and the tiny kittens came tumbling over, pushing against each other to be first in line. "From now on, you'll be known as Gingerkit, Valleykit, Dustykit and Marigoldkit." There was no real ceremony for this, but Hollystar tapped each kitten on the head with her muzzle as she bestowed the names. They stood still barely long enough for her to raise her head from Marigoldkit's red fur before they rushed off again, squealing.

Hollystar looked up, her eyes meeting Bunny's bi-colored gaze. "And you?" The offer was clear: Hollystar would gift the molly with a warrior name if she wanted one.

The red queen, for the first time, hesitated. Then: "I've never learned to fight," Bunny said. "I think I would like to learn, once the kits are old enough that I can have some time on my own, but I wouldn't feel right taking a warrior name if I could not defend it--or this Clan." She paused, then her eyes went wide. "If that's alright? I didn't mean to presume."

"I think that was very eloquently put," Hollystar replied. "And I agree. The other warriors can tutor you, and you can take a warrior's name when you are ready for it."

"Thank you!"

---

MOON 9

Snow dusted the edges of the cliffs, outlining each ledge in a thin white line, a bright contrast to the dark banded sandstone. Bunny couldn't help it: she looked up, enthralled, glad that the newly-named Burnetblossom and Clearfluff had offered to stay in the nursery and entertain her kits so she could begin her warrior training.

Brightclaw had offered to give her first lesson, but the molly was in the healer's den, waiting with a grimace while Lionfur double and triple checked her sprained paw. "I told you, it's fine," the grey-and-ginger molly mewed impatiently, trying to pull her paw away when she noticed Bunny at the den's entrance.

Lionfur's tail swatted the molly's nose. "I'll be the judge of that," the healer rumbled, his deep voice comfortable, confident. Bunny watched carefully as the white tom prodded Brightclaw's paw, his own eyes glued to the molly's face, watching for any twinges of pain. He eventually let her go with a nod. "Don't do anything too absurd. I mean it, take it easy for a few days, Brightclaw."

She rolled her amber eyes. "Fine, fine. No jumping off cliffs," she said, shaking her paw and trotting happily across the den. When she reached Bunny's side, Brightclaw winked and grinned. "At least not today, hm?"

Brightclaw didn't take her far. They didn't risk scaling the snow-covered gorge to reach the training hollow, instead clearing a small space beside the rock tumble so Bunny wouldn't slip as Brightclaw showed her how to pivot around her center of balance and how to set her paws. "We start all apprentices with the basics. A cat needs to know how to stand before they can learn how to move."

That made sense, and Bunny did her best to emulate Brightclaw's movements. The warrior made it look so effortless, twisting around herself and balancing in ways Bunny didn't think a cat could move, but by sunhigh, she'd managed to overcome her stiffness and relax into the poses Brightclaw led her through.

"What do you think, Hollystar?" Bunny jumped; she had been so focused on the training, she hadn't noticed Hollystar was watching.

Hollystar's gaze was sharp as ice and warm as the sun, the impossible paradox only possible as it lived between her blue-and-yellow split irises. For the first time, Bunny felt she could understand GoldenClan's obsession with her own eyes. There was something about the opposing colors that made Hollystar's eyes intense, discerning and uncovering Bunny's soul in a way Brightclaw's never could. She couldn't help but squirm under the leader's appraisal. "You are flexible and light on your feet," Hollystar said. "And your confidence is clear in your posture. This is good. Half a warrior's battle in convincing the opponent that you are more prepared to win than they are."

Bunny couldn't help but to take pride in the praise, standing up straighter. Then Hollystar's eyes turned sharp, warning. "But don't let your confidence and natural talent bloom into hubris. The only prize an overconfident warrior reaps are scars."

"I-" Bunny wasn't one to stutter, but the intensity of Hollystar's voice wasn't something she'd ever heard from the tortoiseshell molly before. It was like... voices echoing through her. Was this what Lionfur meant when he spoke of StarClan? "I will try my best, Hollystar."

The molly blinked, an eclipse of her ice-and-fire eyes, and when she looked at Bunny again, most of the cold intensity was gone, only the warmth making the yellows shine. "You're part of GoldenClan now. That means our warriors will always look out for you. I will look out for you. If there's anything you need, anything at all, we will do our best to make it happen, okay?"

The kindness was nearly as overwhelming as the warning, but it didn't seem like Hollystar needed a response to that. She only nodded and left Brightclaw to continue where they'd left off. For the rest of the training session, Bunny could have sworn she saw stars glittering in the snow where Hollystar had stood.

---

MOON 10

No cat expected the blizzard to be so bad. Even Lionfur and Clearfluff, living many leaf-bares in the gorge, hadn't seen a storm come up so suddenly or rage so fiercely. 

They were caught unprepared. It was by some miracle that Lionfur had been in the warrior's den when the gale hit, able to pile into the bundle of fur that was the rest of GoldenClan, conserving warmth and praying desperately for the storm to pass quickly.

Bunny, in the nursery, was alone. "I'll go," Hollystar said, her fur whipped into spikes by the wind and snow, her color leeched by the rime of frost in her fur.

"It's far too dangerous," Brightclaw mewed, the only cat still up and standing, the only one able to protest. The others were pushed into the deepest corner of the cavern, clumped to protect themselves from the deadly chill. Even so, Brightclaw's teeth chattered, her paws trembled. "The nursery entrance is small. If the snow drifts cover it over, they'll be warmer than we are--"

"That's a chance I'm not willing to take," Hollystar gritted through her own chattering teeth. "I promised her I'd be there--"

Brightclaw shivered, the snow momentarily displaced from her fur from the violence of the action. "I-I-I won't stop you, but please. We need you here."

It tore Hollystar's heart in two: the queen and her kits below, alone, cold; her Clanmates here, shivering, exposed. She growled, screamed, her voice taken by the wind, muffled by the snow. Dreampaw, her apprentice, valiantly took an outside position in the cluster of cats, sacrificing her own safety in the hopes that her long fur would shelter her Clanmates. Hollystar couldn't let her bear that.

She curled herself around the small molly, her own long fur crusted over with snow, trying to block the wind with her own body. Hollystar pulled her legs and tail in, folded her ears, turned her back to the worst of the storm and, despite her soul screaming that she should have done more, hunkered down to wait for the storm to pass.

----

She saw Marigoldkit first, the ginger kitten wailing in the sheet of bright snow, looking all too much like a drop of blood against the white. Hollystar raced down the cliffside, unafraid of falling. Even if she did loose her footing on the slippery cliffside, the snow was deep enough that the fall wouldn't kill her.

Probably.

When she got there, she noticed the kitten's eyes were screwed shut, her ears back and fur fluffed against the cold. "I got you, it's alright," Hollystar said, announcing herself.

Marigoldkit's eyes opened only a crack before she screeched again, shaking her head. "It's white!"

Hollystar scooped the trembling molly up in her jaws, concerned at her behavior but more afraid of why she was out here, alone. The nursery entrance was covered in snow as Brightclaw predicted, only a tiny gap at the top where Marigoldkit must have emerged. It was impossible to dig through the drift with the kit in her jaws, but at that point, Burnetblossom and Gravelsplash had managed to descend the cliffside--more cautiously than Hollystar's reckless leaps--and the younger molly took the kitten from Hollystar. "Take her to Lionfur," she ordered, and Burnetblossom quickly and confidently started back up the cliffs--she'd always been a good climber, maybe the best in the Clan, and Hollystar trusted she could ferry the kitten safely to the warrior's den, even in the thick bed of snow.

Gravelsplash stayed and helped Hollystar dig, and between the two of them, opened up a space big enough for an adult cat to squeeze into the den. "Bunny!" Hollystar called. She was motionless, cold as ice when Hollystar pushed her nose into the red fur.

"Hollystar?" The kitten's voice snapped her free of her grief, enough to notice the three kits pushed under Bunny's flank. It was Dustykit that spoke, peeking his head up, shedding a layer of frost. Both Valleykit and Gingerkit were nearly squashed by Bunny's body, unable to move their mother's weight to free themselves, but kept warm and alive by her protection, even after her soul had fled. Hollystar couldn't bear to touch Bunny. She grabbed Dustykit, pulled the pale tom away and curled him under her own warm stomach.

It was Gravelstripe, the sandy molly's eyes flashing with worry for the kits, that could push past the dead and focusing on what she could do to help the living. It was a skill the former HatchClan warrior had honed on the battlefield and it served her well now, her eyes skidding across Bunny's red-and-snow fur as if her body was simply another boulder in the nursery; she could deal with grief later, making sure the kits were safe, that Bunny's life was not given for nothing, that was what mattered.

Gravelstripe lifted Bunny enough for Valleykit to scramble free, the tiny kit pulling Gingerkit by the scruff, helping her brother warm up by pressing close to his side. Gravelstripe directed the two kits towards Hollystar, who pulled them under her protection with a sweep of her tail. Hollystar's eyes were distant, seeing into the stars, not the nursery. The leader looked stricken, but otherwise alright, and Gravelstripe trusted she could manage the three half-frozen kits for a few moments while she fetched more help.

She nearly collided with Burnetblossom as she climbed through the gap at the top of the drift, the young warrior's fur invisible against the snow, with only her ginger-brindled ears and tail visible as if floating in a sea of white. "The kits--" 

"With Hollystar, they all survived."

Burnetblossom's ears flicked back, the molly catching something in Gravelsplash's stony expression, or maybe a slight crack in her voice. "Bunny?"

Gravelsplash only dipped her head, a silent defeat. The two were silent for a heartbeat, a shared moment for Bunny's soul, then Burnetblossom sprung back in motion, already starting back up the cliffside as she called back:  "Let me go fetch Brightclaw, then."

It wasn't long before three of Bunny's four kits were snuggled up to Brightclaw's thick pelt, warm, fed and resting. Marigoldkit remained with Lionfur, the healer curled tightly around her to keep her eyes in the dark. "She looked out onto the fresh snow for too long and the bright reflection was like looking into the sun. I can't know if it's permanent damage  because I don't know how long she was out there, but right now, Marigoldkit is blind," he explained softly when Clearfluff came over to check on the red molly.

Hollystar licked Bunny's fur free of frost herself. They didn't hold an overnight vigil, Clearfluff too worried that it would be too risky if the temperature dropped again, and at sunset Brightclaw and Burnetblossom--GoldenClan's two most sure-footed cats--carried her to the Whispering Cave so her soul could join StarClan.

"Bunny didn't take a warrior name, but she was a warrior through and through," Hollystar said softly. The glowing mosses did nothing to warm the small cavern, and her breath made small clouds as she said a few last words. She was alone here, Brightclaw and Burnetblossom giving her privacy to speak to StarClan. "Under the light of StarClan, I would like to give her one now, so she may join your ranks as a full warrior. From now on, GoldenClan will name you Bunnylight. Your confidence and optimism were a beacon, reminding all of us to keep reaching. I'm certain that light will continue to shine through the blood of your kits, and their kits, and for generations after that."

Hollystar hadn't expected to feel so lost. Brooktalon's death was one thing, the elder molly joining StarClan's ranks of her own choice, but Bunny--Bunnylight. She had so much left to learn, so much left to give. Hollystar dipped her nose into Bunnylight's fur one last time. She wished she could stay longer, warm Bunnylight's pelt with her breath until the molly stirred back to life, but she couldn't. She didn't want Clearfluff to worry, risk a fall by coming after her, no, so Hollystar gave her one last slow blink, imprinting that red spotted pattern behind her eyes, and returned to her Clan.

---

Sometime after the storms, after the snow had settled and patrol trails had thoroughly traced furrows like a tabby cat's swirls across the territory, Clearfluff, Owlpool and Gravelsplash stumbled upon a kittypet. A dark grey tom named Flick, traipsing across the snowy fields without a care in the world. "Clan cats!" he mewed, and the three mollies automatically formed a triangle around him, ready to pounce if he tried anything. "I've been looking for Clan cats! See I--"

"GoldenClan does not reason with kittypets," Clearfluff growled.

"But--"

"Out. Now." They didn't need to use claws, bared fangs and bristled hackles enough to push the tomcat over the border with orders never to return.

Owlpool raised the question. "We could have used a cat to stay in camp and watch the kits," she said, a little hesitatingly, because Clearfluff was the deputy and Gravelsplash had more moons as a warrior than most the others combined. But it had to be said--she couldn't just leave an inefficiency alone, not without asking why. 

Luckily, Clearfluff understood how Owlpool thought, how the young warrior interpreted the world through hard logic and reason. She spoke firmly, but explained thoroughly: "first, he's a tom. While GoldenClan could use a tom to keep camp, we're already stretched thin enough on prey as it is without having to support a kittypet that probably couldn't pull his weight hunting." Owlpool nodded, accepting that reasoning. "If he were StarClan blessed, either in eye or pelt, perhaps that would be enough proof of his usefulness, but as it is, we can't take the risk."

"Also, I hated the way he was prancing about our territory. Even our kits wouldn't behave so poorly!"

Clearfluff's annoyance made Owlpool laugh. "Yeah, he'd probably only be good at scaring prey away. Maybe if we'd set a line of warrior on the other side of the gorge, he coulda scared it all into our claws..."

Gravelsplash cuffed her on the ear, a light, playful tap to get her attention. "Enough scheming, we still have a lot of border to cover," the senior warrior said, and they continued onward.

---

MOON 11

Life goes on.

It was hard for Hollystar to come to terms with Bunnylight's death, the first one she could have perhaps prevented, and Owlpool hated seeing her mentor, her leader, so cold and distant, eyes unfocused more often than not, peering into StarClan's realm.

Owlpool was glad the deep snow furrows made it difficult for Hollystar to accidentally wander off, absentminded as she was, but the young marbled molly stayed close to her side anyways, brushing her fur against Hollystar's flank occasionally, trying to ground her and remind her that her paws walked in the real world. Owlpool didn't know if she was successful or appreciated, Hollystar's vacant stare giving nothing away, but she kept trying. It was all she could do.

She was busy with Hollystar, and so it was her mother, Brightclaw, that noticed the red and white cat half buried in the snow. It wasn't the first they'd found near the borders, another victim of the sudden storm last moon that GoldenClan was still trying to recover from. The ground was far too hard to dig a grave, though, and excavating the body would drain energy the hungry patrol didn't have, so they could only mark where the patrol found them, hoping they could return in greater strength before a scavenger did.

At least there was prey when they returned: Clearfluff and Burnetblossom had managed to take down not one, but two enormous rats. Going to the barn had been a risky choice, but one that had greatly paid off for the starving, cold Clan. For the first time since the storm hit, Owlpool felt warm and comfortably full as she snuggled into the clump of warriors to sleep.

---

MOON 12

The waxy leaves itched against Lionfur's neck, but there was nothing to do about it. Gingerkit had graciously gifted him the evergreen stalk and he couldn't say no to that. Like most small changes, he would grow accustomed to the itch in time, feel comfort, even, as the leaves slipped between fur and tickled his neck when he turned to look around his den.

He was searching for wild garlic, and his nose picked the herb from his stock before his eyes saw the familiar green shoots. The taste was bitter, but Lionfur had plenty of moons, seasons, years, to grow accustomed to bitter tastes and the white tom barely noticed it as he carried the bundle to Gravelsplash.

Several shallow cuts parted the fur on her paws. The sandy warrior dodged his eyes, her ears back as she suffered under his attentions. Lionfur carefully applied the garlic to ward off infections, tactfully avoiding conversation about how she'd gotten the scrapes. Clearfluff had filled him in already, whispering in his ear as she passed Gravelsplash off to him at the den entrance.

There was no fight, Gravelsplash had simply tripped over a tangle of fallen branches and gotten herself caught in a deadfall. Lionfur kept his amusement to himself, respecting the molly's embarrassment. When he finished with the garlic, he wordlessly took his herbs away, flicking his tail in clear dismissal. When he turned back, Gravelsplash was already gone.

Lionfur exited the healer's den. The moons had marked the day as the first of new-leaf, but the weather had yet to turn. A soft sheet of snow kept the ground around the gorge painted white and drifts as tall as a cat lurked in the shadows, many packed down and filled with excavated tunnels from the kits' games. Owlpool was in charge of watching them today, and the brown marbled molly gave Lionfur a friendly smile as he passed by.

He'd only been up to the leader's den a few times since Hollystar took her name and title, but he'd grown up exploring every nook and crevice of the gorge camp alongside Clearfluff. Brooktalon hadn't let them range far in those early days, not wanting to draw attention to the small life they carved from the unyielding stone. His paws brought him to Hollystar's den without having to be told where to leap, where to watch the more precarious ledges, which boulders were safe and which grew slippery with ice.

She waited, chocolate tail-tip flicking, her eyes stunning as always, blue and gold, reminding Lionfur of her Blessed status every time she turned her gaze upon him. "The kits," she said, cutting straight to business, knowing he had been itching for this conversation for days and only now had the time to devote to it.

"Marigoldkit's condition has improved somewhat. Over the first moon, she has regained some sight, but her progress has since plateaued and I think this is the best it will get. I fear her eyes are permanently damaged and she will deteriorate again, becoming totally blind in the future." He paused, thought, and Hollystar let him have a moment to calculate. "Twenty or thirty moons is my estimate, but it's entirely in StarClan's paws. I've done what I could, and the only preventative care I could devise would be to keep her in the dark as much as possible, which I believe would be detrimental to her health and happiness."

"So do you think she could be a warrior?" Hollystar pressed.

Lionfur shrugged, his ginger tail-tip curling over his paws, preventing him from flexing his claws in frustration. He wished he could do more for Marigoldkit, wished-- "I would leave the choice up to her," he said firmly. It was hard to hold Hollystar's gaze, her bicolored eyes piercing, but he wanted to make his position clear. "Marigoldkit is determined and has courage. She should be allowed to define her own limits."

Hollystar didn't look entirely convinced, but that wasn't Lionfur's job. He'd given his leader his opinion, that was all he could do. The choice, in the end, was entirely hers. "I believe Gingerkit would be best suited as a mediator."

This got Hollystar's attention and she turned to face him with the full force of her focus. "Mediation is about listening and communication." And Gingerkit is deaf and nearly mute, was the obvious implication.

"Gingerkit has no trouble communicating," Lionfur reminded her, brushing the laurels on his ear to draw Hollystar's eye to the gift. Lionfur wasn't as confident of his position as he purported, but Stars, he couldn't allow Gingerkit to try and make it on his own. At least in GoldenClan he'd be fed and sheltered, he couldn't imagine the young tom learning to hunt and fight and survive without being able to hear danger sneaking up on him. "He is outgoing and friendly, and has good intuition. Gingerkit is a good match for the job."

"Why can't he be a healer instead? Let Dustykit learn to mediate."

Lionfur shook his head. "StarClan put Dustykit on a healer's path. For the last moon, the stone near the herb store has been strewn with sand and no matter how much of it I clean up, there's more the next day. Honestly, it's starting to get annoying," Lionfur said, twitching his whiskers in amusement. "It has StarClan's paws all over it. The sign was why I wanted to talk with you in the first place, Hollystar. To tell you that StarClan chose Dustykit to be GoldenClan's next healer."

Now this was a line of reasoning she could easily endorse, and Hollystar eagerly nodded. "Certainly so! I agree with your conclusion, that there could be only one answer to such an odd occurrence."

Lionfur hoped with Dustykit's fate decided, that StarClan would get the message and stop sending a coat of sediment to carpet his (usually) tidy den. "And Valleypaw, of course, will be a warrior. I see nothing stopping her from taking the obvious path," he concluded, more on ceremony than of any particular note.

"Thank you for your insight, Lionfur. I will certainly be watching the kits closely this next moon."

"As will I. And Clearfluff will be too, I'm sure." Lionfur didn't mention that it was his sister that pushed him to advocate for Gingerkit's training as a mediator. That she was the one that believed he could succeed in the role with the proper guidance. He trusted her opinion, even if he himself was uncertain of the young tom's ability to succeed in a role that grated so harshly against his disability.

But, as he said, it was Hollystar's choice. And, as a cat so thoroughly Blessed by StarClan, he trusted her to make the best one for GoldenClan.

---

MOON 13



The gorge rolled with fog, obscuring the rushing riverbed, blurring the canyon walls into featureless grey. It was on this day last year that Hollystar became GoldenClan's leader. She remembered feeling hopeful but wary; when it was just Brooktalon, Brightclaw was more than happy to buy into the old molly's dream of rebuilding her Clan in return for protection.

She'd even tried sleeping in the Whispering Cave at Brooktalon's insistence, her grey-and-orange fur marking her as special to Brooktalon's culture. Brightclaw had been shocked to see the StarClan cats she'd thought were only metaphorical, but they didn't ask Brightclaw to be leader. Instead they showed her another cat, this one without stars in her fur: a living cat, a ginger-and-chocolate molly with eyes like setting suns.

And then Hollyhock arrived.

Brightclaw's fur prickled. It's been a year since that moment, but she still hardly believed what had happened. Even after Lionfur told her about following a StarClan cat to Bunny and the kits, or the way Hollystar returned from the Whispering Cave, changed in a way that could only be explained by the sideways logic of that mysterious place. She hoped StarClan was real, if only because Bunny--Bunnylight--deserved to watch over her kits.

She'd heard from Brooktalon what to expect from GoldenClan's gender roles, and so she was glad that neither of Bunnylight's tom-kits were forced to leave the Clan. Dustypaw was taken in by Lionfur to learn herbs and healing, and Gingerpaw was thrust into the role of mediator, a job Hollystar had explained during the ceremony as "solving conflicts within and outside the Clan's borders".

It was clear to Brightclaw that Gingerpaw was intimidated by the task. She thought he could handle it, but she supposed it would be difficult for any cat to master a skillset without a teacher to help guide them. Not that she had any cat to teach her how to hunt, how to fight, how to survive; Brightclaw had learned all that on her own. And now here she stood, a warrior.

"Brightclaw!" Valleypaw skittered up the cliffside, as sure-footed as only a young cat could be. Her golden fur glowed like a beacon in the surrounding fog. Valleypaw opened her mouth to speak, but only then looked over the cliffside to the foggy scene below, her words expiring in a sudden gasp.

Brightclaw let her apprentice take in the view, using the few seconds to gather her wandering thoughts and bring her priorities back into focus. Now wasn't the time to be dwelling on the past, not when the future stood in awe beside her.

"The fog is beautiful, but also makes hunting challenging," Brightclaw said. She'd never had a teacher-voice before, her kits mentored by other cats in the Clan, but perhaps having a tone specifically for lecturing young cats was one of the universal truths to any mother, hidden in her psyche for when she next needed it. She stood with a stretch, shaking the dewdrops from her long fur. "It's similar to the rain, drowning scents and making the wind unpredictable."

Valleypaw shook off her awestruck expression, sensing a chance to leave camp in Brightclaw's words. The tortoiseshell smiled at her apprentice's eager wriggling, still kit-like in her habits, but trying to contain the impulse to explode into motion. "Let's see if you can find a mouse in the fog."

---

"I caught a mouse!" Valleypaw crowed, smugly.

"Well Gravelsplash showed me how to fight," Marigoldpaw countered, dropping into the battle crouch Gravelsplash had spent all morning coaching her through. Her paws still struggled to keep her center of balance steady, but it was more than enough to deflect Valleypaw's inexperienced pounce. Marigoldpaw sat up and preened under her small success, watching her sister pick herself up from the floor of the apprentice's den.

"Kits," Dreampaw muttered, the older apprentice curling her back away from them as she settled into her nest. Her blue ribbon was untied from her neck, but kept tightly between her paws.

Valleypaw huffed and ignored her entirely, dropping into Marigoldpaw's nest and settling her head on her sister's shoulder.

Dustypaw stretched, then curled into his own nest, his striped tail hanging over the side of the stone bowl. "Lionfur and I saw a sign from StarClan today," he said, as if it was nothing. The others stared. Gingerpaw pushed him to explain himself and he shrugged. "We were gathering juniper over by the HatchClan border when an oak branch fell right in front of us."

Valleypaw made a dismissive sound, rolling her eyes. "It's a forest mouse-brain, things like that happen all the time."

"There weren't any oak trees around," Dustypaw mewed, his voice low and ominous. "The forest was entirely evergreens." Signs from StarClan could be creepy too, Marigoldpaw figured. They were basically ghosts after all. She twined her leg with Valleypaw's, drawing comfort in her sister's closeness. She didn't miss that Valleypaw pulled her chin closer into her pelt either.

"Lionfur said we should never discount StarClan's signs, or their gifts. We gathered the oak leaves too. They're good for... infections? I think?" Gingerpaw tapped his tail against Dustypaw's brown spotted flank, flicking his ears pointedly at where Valleypaw and Marigoldpaw were nestled together. "Oh, Gingerpaw made me talk to Burnetblossom today."

Gingerpaw nodded along to Dustypaw's words, which were echoed in the supplementary signs that the four siblings used when they talked among themselves. Gingerpaw was getting better at reading a cat's words from their mouth, but still relied heavily on expressions and the minutiae of body language to follow conversation. Gingerpaw had invented the signs himself and the others quickly picked it up, their own secret language. "He'd noticed we were uncomfortable around each other and found the root of it, something silly I'd said as a kit and didn't think much of, but that really hurt her feelings. Gingerpaw made us talk it out until we could both laugh about it."

The ginger tom looked proud of his accomplishment, even if it was only clearing up a misconception between his littermate and a young warrior. It was a good first step. "Hey, maybe you can mediate something between me and Gravelsplash next," Valleypaw said. Her chin dug into Marigoldpaw's shoulder as she talked, making the darker molly squirm. Valleypaw held her down with a paw and lifted her head. "She told me this morning that she'd get rid of the moss in the nursery, but then Hollystar was on my tail about it at sundown because it still wasn't done! I'm still mad about that."

Gingerpaw's laugh was silent, a shaking of his shoulders, but he grinned and nodded. "Great! I'll let you know when Brightclaw has me done with training."

Valleypaw snuggled back into Marigoldpaw, the both of them purring. She'd been worried the apprentice's den would feel cold and different, but it was easier when all three of her littermates were still here with her. Only the presence of Dreampaw made it different, and the older molly seemed intent on ignoring them as much as she was able to. Marigoldpaw sighed and curled her nose into Valleypaw's fur.

Dustypaw was already softly snoring.

---

MOON 14

"Are you sure?"

"Of course," Gravelsplash replied, though she couldn't look Marigoldpaw in the eye even as she gave her justification. "TrickleClan never uses this territory, they hardly patrol it. When I was in HatchClan, the scent line on this border was so faint, it was only because the border stayed so steady over the years that we knew it was there at all."

So why was Gravelsplash's heart racing, her eyes flicking around for movement, her mouth parted to catch any scent blowing down the gorge? Her fur prickled. It felt like there were eyes on the cliffsides around her, looking down like kestrels waiting for the mouse to let down its guard. "Quickly now," Gravelsplash said, pulling Marigoldpaw closer with her tail.

If she knew she was going to do something so stupid, why did she think to bring her apprentice along with her?

It was just... Owlpool was so worried about Burnetblossom. When the brown molly had reached out to Gravelsplash for help, asking her if HatchClan would be willing to trade bindweed for her sister's broken bone, an injury Burnetblossom suffered when the bold young warrior leapt between Brightclaw and a large dog earlier that moon, Gravelsplash couldn't bear to let Owlpool down.

HatchClan wouldn't have any bindweed. The only place she knew that had the plant was on the edge of TrickleClan's territory, upstream, and TrickleClan rarely traded herbs with the two Clans--now three--in the south.

Gravelsplash looked around the riverbed, searching for the familiar white-cup flowers that grew on the bindweed vines. They only needed a few strands, enough to hold Burnetblossom's broken bone in place while it healed--

Marigoldpaw squeaked and pushed into Gravelsplash's flank, her raised hackles pricking against her mentor's pelt. Gravelsplash looked up and found herself nearly nose-to-nose with a black-and-white patched molly, her fangs bared. "TrickleClan doesn't appreciate intruders," she said, amber eyes cold. "'specially not Clan cats that should know better."

Gravelsplash drew herself up but Marigoldpaw spoke first. "We didn't mean to cross the border!" Marigoldpaw said, her young voice wavering with fear. The TrickleClan warrior narrowed her eyes. "We were gonna wait for a border patrol the polite way, honest! We smelled some scent a little while back but it was so faint, we didn't think it was a border..."

Before the TrickleClan warrior could intervene, Gravelsplash took over, padding Marigoldpaw's lie. "Because the scent line was so faint, I assumed it was old and that a patrolled border would be further in. Our assignment was urgent, and we couldn't afford to wait at a border line that hadn't been marked in several days." The prod at TrickleClan's honor might be a step too far, but if she played her pebbles right, making their trespass seem like TrickleClan's own fault might work in her favor. "Though I'm afraid my assumption has put us on the wrong foot, as we have come to ask a favor."

The black-and-white molly didn't seem too charitable, and the addition of two other cats behind her didn't help their odds. Before they could refuse to hear it, Gravelsplash asked: "we beg a few vines of bindweed. One of our warriors has broken her leg last night, and--"

"Fine, just. Take it." Gravelsplash blinked, and the molly bared her fangs. "I have a patrol to get to. You'd better be gone when we come back."

"Yes. I mean, thank you."

The TrickleClan patrol pushed past them. None got close to Marigoldpaw, but a ginger tom bumped into Gravelsplash's shoulder hard enough that she struggled to keep her balance as the three cats disappeared further into the gorge. Even after she lost sight of them, Gravelsplash didn't relax. "That was weird, right?" Marigoldpaw asked, her voice wavering.

"What were you thinking?" Gravelsplash hissed under her breath, causing her apprentice to flinch back. "Leave the talking to me."

"I-I only wanted to help," the red molly said softly. For the first time since they left GoldenClan's borders, Marigoldpaw wasn't pushed nearly into Gravelsplash's sandy fur. She'd dodged into the shadow of the ravine instead, trying to make herself small.

Gravelsplash sighed, trying to let some of her anxiety out before she boiled over. "We're lucky that worked, is all." She started forward again, moving quickly, and Marigoldpaw had to sprint to catch up. "Let's get the bindweed and get out of here, they won't be so charitable twice."






"What were you thinking?" And wasn't it ironic that Gravelsplash's own words to Marigoldpaw were turned onto her by the apprentice's own brother. Dustypaw seethed as the Gravelsplash handed the curls of bindweed to Lionfur, who immediately started using them on Burnetblossom's broken leg.

They'd arrived late, well after dusk; TrickleClan's territory was further than Gravelsplash remembered and they hadn't left GoldenClan's camp until nearly sunhigh. When they returned, the cliffside seethed like an ant mound provoked by a kitten's paw.

Hollystar was the first to intercept the pair, lecturing Gravelsplash on taking such a risk without warning her first. Honestly, Gravelsplash was rather surprised the leader would have approved the mission at all, seeing as it broke several parts of the Warrior Code, but Hollystar's anger stemmed from the fact that she'd been kept out of the loop. "GoldenClan only works if you trust me to make the right choices," she'd said. "I can't lead if my warriors are keeping secrets and going off on their own!"

She'd also turned on Owlpool, for going to Gravelsplash instead of bringing her concerns to Hollystar, or at least to Clearfluff first. That broke into its own argument, one that had threatened to turn into a brawl before Gingerpaw stepped in to mediate. From what Gravelsplash could tell, Clearfluff was defending Owlpool's choice, while Brightclaw was simply proud of her daughters for trying so hard to care for each other, but also berating Owlpool for not letting anyone else in the Clan help. She hadn't stayed for the entirety of that argument, using the commotion to bring the bindweed to the healer's den.

Of all the cats, Gravelsplash didn't expect Lionfur to be the most impartial. "You can make your own choices, as can Owlpool," he'd said as he finished wrapping the bindweed around a straight stick, holding Burnetblossom's leg still so it could heal properly. 

Burnetblossom was the only one that actually thanked her. "I'm sorry you went through so much trouble for me, but I am glad you thought to do everything you could to help."

Dawn's rays were touching the sky by the time GoldenClan's camp settled. Gingerpaw worked miracles, and by the end every cat understood the others' hurts. Owlpool promised to go to Hollystar if she needed anything, recognizing how her actions made Hollystar feel as if her former apprentice didn't trust her insight; Brightclaw and Owlpool bonded over their shared love of Burnetblossom; and Clearfluff grudgingly agreed that not all problems should be solved alone, even if it seemed easier that way.

Gravelsplash wasn't allowed to leave GoldenClan's camp for eight suns. She did break the Code, after all.

Marigoldpaw's punishment was only for two suns of camp duties, and only because she didn't immediately go to Hollystar when she was told Gravelsplash's plans. She couldn't be entirely faulted for following her mentor's lead, however, and Gravelsplash was the one to push for a reduced punishment, sharing how Marigoldpaw was the one that got them out of the TrickleClan confrontation.

---

MOON 15



Dreamspring sneered at Hawkcloud. She was pleased the cheers for the TrickleClan tom's warrior name had been far quieter than hers: TrickleClan was tolerated at the gatherings, but they were so far away, no cat really knew--or cared--about any of their warriors. They sometimes didn't even attend, and it didn't help that TrickleClan barely sent any representatives to the gatherings they did show up for.

So while all of GoldenClan and most of HatchClan shouted Dreamspring's name when Hollystar announced it, only a pawful of TrickleClan voices echoed Hawkcloud's.

"They deserve it," Dreamspring muttered to Brightclaw, feeling particularly smug as they watched TrickleClan leave the gathering early--because their trip home is so long, they said, but everyone else only saw their tails in retreat. "Seriously, allowing a tom to be a warrior? How can they even call themselves a Clan?"

Brightclaw twitched her ears in agreement, but the molly's eyes were distant, cloudy. "I mean, even LaurelClan's tom warriors are only there to help hunt," Dreamspring continued, trying to draw the older molly's attention, catch the flame of her emotion against Dreamspring's fire. "I bet their leader doesn't even have nine lives. How could StarClan support a Clan that strays so far from the Code?"

"GoldenClan's traditions are not the only way," Brightclaw said. Dreamspring had almost forgotten that the molly hadn't been born in the Clan, that despite her Blessed pattern, she'd been an alley cat before Lionfur found her. StarClan brought Lionfur to her, though, Dreamspring rationalized.

Still, Brightclaw's soft rejection of Dreamspring's fervor sparked against her pride and the dark smoke molly found herself snapping. "The Code is the only right way." Her tail lashed as she stalked across the clearing. Now that the announcements were over, the three remaining Clans mingled and relaxed, sharing gossip and stories. An impromptu sparring ring had begun between some apprentices, and Dreamspring found her paws treading towards the familiar haunt--even if she'd been named a warrior, most her friends were there.

Valleypaw sparred with Wasppaw, a black-and-ginger molly from LaurelClan. Valleypaw was always hot-headed, but as Dreamspring approached the ring, she thought the golden spotted molly was even more reckless than usual, taking risks and trying moves that she was still working on in training. In comparison, Wasppaw's movements were sleek and calculated. It was only after a few short exchanges that Wasppaw came out on top, pressing a paw against Valleypaw's chest.

Valleypaw's tail lashed as she exited the ring, giving up her spot to a HatchClan cat. "You can be a little more patient," Dreamspring said as the GoldenClan apprentice drew close.

"Fighting won't make Marigoldpaw heal any faster." Dreamspring nearly jumped from her fur. She hadn't noticed Lionfur had snuck up behind her, with Hollystar by his side. The healer pushed his nose into Valleypaw's shoulder, sniffing at her fur and wrinkling his nose when she flinched away from his touch several times, passing over small scrapes concealed by her fur. "There's no point in tearing your pelt to ribbons training, it will only delay your progress," he said, his deep voice disappearing into the shadowy corners of the clearing, inaudible to any cat outside their small cluster. Lionfur licked at Valleypaw's pelt and she squirmed, but allowed it.

Dreamspring remained silent. Anger heated her blood--when did it not? Anger is the first thing she remembers--but over the long moons of training she'd learned to conceal it, hide it behind a thick layer of icy disinterest. Hollystar's eyes, ice and fire, were the only thing that seemed to see through her, and she was pinned beneath Hollystar's stare while Lionfur worked over Valleypaw, muttering all the while.

After he was done, he turned to Hollystar. When she turned her gaze off of Dreamspring, the young molly felt her legs wobble, just a bit, like she'd run too far, too fast. "We probably should go home early, Hollystar," Lionfur said. "I should change Marigoldpaw's poultices and check on Burnetblossom."

The calico leader paused, swept her bicolored gaze over the clearing, then nodded. "Right."

Dreamspring couldn't help the snarl that curled over her lip, drawing Hollystar's eye yet again. But this time Dreamspring stood tall. "It's my first gathering as a warrior, I'd like to stay."

Hollystar's smile was kind, but patronizing, and Dreamspring bristled under it. "If you wanted to mingle, you could have done so any time before now," Hollystar said. "No, you can have your time next moon." Dreamspring's snarl grew, bared a tooth, but even as the inferno inside her blazed she shut it down with a torrent of ice, forcing her fur to lie flat and her tail to still.

It scared her a little, how easy it was to freeze the flames.


(Marigoldpaw got a mangled leg this moon)

---

MOON 16

Burnetblossom tried to relax.

"It got like, this close to Owlpool's tail," Valleypaw mewed, excitement fluffing the young molly's golden fur into spikes as she spun around the healer's den, a whirlwind of energy that made Burnetblossom's eyes sore. "It was so, so huge! I've never seen a dog that big!"

Burnetblossom's leg ached. The break was healing well, but Valleypaw's retelling of the dog made phantom fangs itch against her flesh, fear spark her heart into jumps. "I'm glad you had an exciting day, Valleypaw," Burnetblossom said.

The golden apprentice zoomed across the healer's den, skidding sand into her nest in her haste. "I can't wait to kill a dog." Valleypaw bared her fangs, gave a mighty pounce that sent herbs scattering.

"Valleypaw! Out!" Hollystar snapped. The tortoiseshell molly had her paws raised, bloody and scuffed from climbing a metal fence to lead the dog away.

"It's alright," Burnetblossom said. "She's not doing any harm." Lionfur emerged from the back of the cave and Burnetblossom flicked her ears in greeting as the medicine cat went to Hollystar's side. Dustypaw was on his heels, Lionfur's shadow, and the ginger point molly couldn't help but smile as the young tom helped Lionfur bind leaves around Hollystar's paws.

Valleypaw couldn't help but stick her nose in that too. "I think you could do a better job than Lionfur, Dustypaw!"

"OUT!" Hollystar ordered, her tail lashing, looking like she was ready to chase the golden molly out herself if her paws weren't full of leaves.

Valleypaw huffed but left, all enthusiasm gone as she dragged her tail against the ground, sullen. When she had disappeared, Hollystar gave a long sigh. "Sorry. Valleypaw has not stopped talking since the patrol."

"Hey, you don't have to apologize to me," Lionfur mewed lightly. "Can you finish Hollystar's wraps, Dustypaw?" The small tom nodded, his whiskers twitching as he grew focused in his work. Lionfur crossed to Burnetblossom and she let him check her splint with the ease of daily ritual. "It's always something, eh?" the older healer said.

Burnetblossom could smell the herbs on his fur, familiar and calming. "I hope the dog doesn't stick around," she said, her voice low so Hollystar wouldn't overhear. Not that she minded her leader hearing, it just... Hollystar worried about enough without Burnetblossom's anxieties added to the heap. Besides, worrying about a threat on their border was obvious enough.

Still, she had to force herself not to twitch her leg. Burnetblossom felt a lot of things since she'd landed in the healer's den: fear, anger, frustration, anxiety for her Clanmates, a cold, biting terror when she thought about never being able to run again. The emotions cycled alongside the moon. Lionfur gave her a friendly tap on the shoulder. "We don't use that territory for hunting anyways, it will all turn out okay."

Burnetblossom wasn't soothed, but that wasn't the point. "Dustypaw's training is going well?" she said instead, changing the topic towards something more hopeful. She'd been resting with a broken bone since the brown spotted tom started his training, and has grown fond of the young cat, having nothing better to do than watch Dustypaw go about his tasks.

Lionfur purred, raising his voice just loud enough that his apprentice could hear. "StarClan is never wrong. Dustypaw will make a fine medicine cat when he's finished his training." They both watched as his ears perked, sitting a little taller as he finished wrapping Hollystar's last paw. Lionfur gave her a wink before disappearing back into the depths of the healer's cavern. Burnetblossom sighed and rested her head on her paws, the comfort and safety of GoldenClan's familiar stone around her and the soft smell of herbs lulling her into a light nap.


It was actually Lionfur with cracked pads but shhhhh the story is better this way.

---

MOON 17

It was absolutely exhausting mediating Hollystar and Owlpool's fights. As the younger warrior has grown into her role in GoldenClan, she'd stopped being intimidated by her former mentor. There was obviously still respect there and Owlpool still held affection for Hollystar, but Gingerpaw suspected that sometime last season, Owlpool started to see Hollystar as simply another Clanmate rather than an all-seeing figure of authority.

Owlpool's logical solutions often clashed with Hollystar's emotional-driven ones, and the two have had some nasty ideological spats in the last few moons, many of which Gingerpaw felt honor-bound as mediator to step in for.

"Border--dangerous--" Owlpool's tail lashed to emphasize her point, her ears back. The side of her mouth twitched, a sure sign that the brown marbled molly was reaching the end of her patience.

"Warrior--duty--borders--clearly marked--" Hollystar spoke slower and more clearly even in an argument, her lips easier to read than Owlpool's. The only cat that Gingerpaw could understand better was Lionfur, other than his littermates of course. They hardly needed to use words to speak now, their internal sign language so complex and encompassing that it could handle any daily conversation with ease.

He was distracted and tuned back in when Owlpool snapped. "--dog again!" Gingerpaw read clearly on her face, even through her snarl. The young apprentice parted his jaw on a hunch and wasn't surprised to pick up faint traces of dog--and blood--on Owlpool's paws. Clearfluff, Gravelsplash and Owlpool must have encountered the dog again on the dusk patrol, sparking this argument.

With a better grasp of the situation, Gingerpaw decided now was the time to step in. It had been hard, at first, to stop cats from simply screaming over his head, but now that he's grown some--and had a better success rate with his intervention--it was easier. Owlpool's tail still lashed, her copper eyes flashing like fire; Hollystar took the opportunity to sit, curling her ginger-and-brown mottled tail over her paws, her bicolor eyes inscrutable as always.

It took a few tries, but he eventually found a wavelength they could both communicate on, melding Owlpool's more logical, risk-reward assessment with Hollystar's honor for the Code and fears of future dangers that might go unchecked if they don't continue patrols in the area. There was no compromise: after all, Hollystar was GoldenClan's leader, and her word was Code, but the conversation made Owlpool feel her concerns have been heard.

The next morning, Hollystar announced that no cat could be on the upper plateau without at least one companion, and that border patrols that direction would have at least four cats. "Until the dog is gone." Marigoldpaw typically would be the one at Gingerpaw's side, signing Hollystar's words so that he didn't have to struggle to piece together her speeches (and wasn't that a sight, one cat deaf, the other half-blind; together they'd be one functional apprentice), but with Marigoldpaw stuck in the healer's den with her injured leg, it was Dustypaw that filled her role.

Valleypaw, usually on his other side, was recently inseparable from Dreamspring. Gingerpaw didn't like feeling angry or jealous towards his littermates, but there was something about Dreamspring that made his fur prickle and his heart beat faster, like prey that knew it had no where to run. Gingerpaw must have leaned in closer to Dustypaw, as his brother rested his tail over his back. Dreamspring is a bad influence, Dustypaw said, tapping the words into Gingerpaw's flank with paw and tail. 

Valleypaw's not fighting, right? Gingerpaw asked. 

Dustypaw shook his head. The meeting was over, most of the Clan retreating into the caverns or gathering for patrols. Dustypaw's ears flicked; Lionfur called for him, the acknowledgement of unheard words for Gingerpaw's sake rather than his mentor's, who probably couldn't see them all too well from the healer's ledge. No, Dustypaw signed, emphatic on the motion, his paw heavy and fast. "Focused in training, but no more injuries."

At least there was that. Gingerpaw pushed his nose into Dustypaw's shoulder in farewell, the dusty brown tom leaving a cloud of mint-scent in his wake. For a few moments, Gingerpaw sat, letting the hot green-leaf sun bake into his shoulders. Then he stood and started up the path to Hollystar's den. He took his time, delaying the inevitable conversation that was to come just a little longer. He knew what she wanted.

She wanted him to play ambassador, she wanted him to negotiate with TrickleClan.

---

MOON 18

A long screech rang through the forest and all four GoldenClan mollies ears swiveled to follow the sound. "That's near the HatchClan border," Brightclaw said, tipping her head to better pinpoint the direction and distance. "Probably right on the border line."

"Which means it's GoldenClan's problem too." Hollystar hoped it was nothing: an apprentice making a scene, a jumpy warrior startled by a snake in the grass. But another screech, this one certainly a different cat's, ruined all benign hypotheses. A fight, it had to be. "We should see what's happening."

Their patrol was returning from a hunt, not a border patrol, but Hollystar knew they'd be the only cats on this side of the gorge to follow up on the commotion. Besides, if it was a fight, she'd rather be there with two reliable warriors by her side, and Valleypaw was nearly ready to take her warrior name.

The small patrol moved cautiously but quickly through the thin forest, their pawsteps silent on the thick bed of pine needles that covered the land closest to the HatchClan border. The screeches grew louder and more frequent, until Hollystar was finally able to pick out movement through the trees: a single cat, her white fur pink with blood, running straight for them, chased by three other cats she recognized as HatchClan warriors.

"Hollowbrook?" Gravelsplash said from Hollystar's shoulder, the senior warrior's voice shrill with surprise. Before Hollystar could give an order to her patrol, the grey molly dashed across the border, Valleypaw close on her heels, passing the fleeing molly and tackling a black-and-white HatchClan warrior behind her.

"Stars above," Hollystar muttered, but grit her teeth and followed Gravelsplash and Valleypaw into the melee, pairing off with a pale brown molly that was threatening to flank the pair of GoldenClan cats. With the GoldenClan patrol outnumbering them four-to-three, Brightclaw now had the opportunity to team up against Valleypaw's opponent, quickly driving the silver tabby cat away from the fight and forcing the others to flee.

Hollystar hoped Gravelsplash's impulsiveness wasn't a horrible political blunder. HatchClan was nominally allies with GoldenClan... or at least they were, before this.

Still, the rush of victory was contagious and Hollystar shook out her pelt, her blood singing, urging her to chase, to hunt. But she held that down, instead giving her Clanmates a quick glance--none injured, only a few minor scratches. Good--before the GoldenClan leader turned to the molly Gravelsplash had named Hollowbrook. The molly must have stopped running as soon as she crossed GoldenClan's border and was now sitting in the scattered needles, breathing heavily, licking at the bleeding bite wound on her shoulder.

The white molly's eyes flashed. Like Hollystar's own, the irises were split between two colors: Hollowbrook's eyes were vertically divided between pale yellow and amber. StarClan Blessed. A single brown spot marred her snowy flank. For the second time, Gravelsplash rushed forward before Hollystar could get a word in edgewise. "Hollowbrook! What happened? Is Tawnyneedle okay?"

Hollystar padded closer. "Tawnyneedle is fine." Hollowbrook looked like she wanted to say more, but then clamped her jaw shut. "Everything's fine."

"You certainly don't look fine!" Gravelsplash mewed, poking Hollowbrook's shoulder just above the bite wound. "What happened?"

"I said, it's nothing. I'll go back and--"

"You were just chased off your own territory by your own Clanmates! You're not going back!" Gravelsplash turned to Hollystar, the pale molly's hazel eyes dark with emotion. "Hollystar, Hollowbrook is my sister's daughter. She was a kit when--when I left HatchClan."

"You should let our healer look at that bite, at least," Hollystar said. Something itched at her, the voices of StarClan sighing like leaves in the back of her mind, pulling her attention back to Hollowbrook's bi-colored eyes over and over again. It felt important that she keep this Blessed cat for GoldenClan. "Valleypaw. Go warn Lionfur that there was a scuffle, and to prepare his herbs for a bite wound."

The gold spotted apprentice immediately dashed off, nimble paws quickly taking her out of sight. "Come. Let's get back to camp," Hollystar said. She didn't mind when Brightclaw offered to lead the way, her head buzzing with thoughts, some of them hers, some of them not, but all of them focused on Hollowbrook and her Blessed eyes.

---

MOON 19

"The battle was quite decisive. I don't understand why HatchClan keeps starting fights they can't win! I mean, we had the terrain advantage and numbers, how mouse-brained does a cat have to be that they can't count tails?" Owlpool's report of the recent border skirmish had quickly turned to a scathing review of HatchClan's tactics--or lack thereof.

Clearfluff tried to keep the young warrior focused, even if she knew that Owlpool's obsession with strategy would quickly overtake any quantitative report she could give, and in the end the deputy got the information she needed to polish her own report to Hollystar. "Good work, Owlpool. We'd have a lot more injuries in this..." --it wasn't a war, not really, even if HatchClan and GoldenClan have been constantly skirmishing since they took in Hollowbrook last moon-- "...tense state with HatchClan without you there to direct patrols."

Owlpool puffed up in pride, the brown marbled molly's copper eyes bright. Clearfluff knew she had to be a little careful not to stoke Owlpool's ambitions too hotly, but she also genuinely believed Owlpool deserved the praise. She might be young, but her strategic sense was unparalleled by any of the older warriors. Not even Clearfluff herself knew more about battle tactics. And so while it may make Owlpool utterly insufferable over the night's meal, she couldn't resist giving Owlpool a wide grin and a nod of approval that the young molly ran away with.

"Now, the hard part," Clearfluff said to herself, relishing the moment of solitude she was allowed between reports. In some ways, the tortoiseshell molly hated being deputy to an ever-growing Clan. For a long time, it had just been the three of them: Mother, Lionfur, and her. Dangerous, sure, but she was only responsible for herself and her family. And they all knew when she needed a break, needed to be left alone for a while to recharge.

As deputy, she didn't have that luxury. It was easier, with Gingerpaw as mediator, to take a step back from that part of her duties, but she still needed to organize, to assign, to delegate. Though she supposed that having fewer opportunities to isolate herself does make the moments she can have alone that much sweeter. The stone was warm on Clearfluff's paws as she climbed the gorge to Hollystar's den.

It doesn't take long for her to summarize Owlpool's report--being concise was one of Clearfluff's greatest strengths. Longer was the pause as Hollystar pondered, the double-Blessed leader's patched tail twitching in the boundary between light and shadow that spilled into the den. "I'll have to meet with Morningstar," Hollystar finally said, making a decision. Clearfluff appreciated that about her: when Hollystar made a choice, she stuck with it. "I thought it was clear that Hollowbrook choose to stay with GoldenClan of her own free will--I thought that would be obvious to any cat, from how we found her--but it seems I need to clarify some things."

"Should we send Gingerpaw?"

"I will ask if he wishes to accompany me. For a tom without a mentor, he's trained himself well. I'd appreciate his insight, and certainly the diplomatic weight it would put on the meeting to have a mediator there too, but." Hollystar shook her head, a minute gesture that made her ginger fur catch the glint of the sun. "I won't order him to come. He should be able to choose if his presence will be helpful or harmful to the negotiation."

Clearfluff dipped her head and took her leave. Perhaps she might have a moment to--

"Clearfluff?"

Or not. Gravelsplash lurked on the switchback nearby, not close enough that Clearfluff worried she was attempting to eavesdrop, but close enough that it was clear the sandy warrior was waiting to catch her after the meeting. "Yes?" Clearfluff said, hoping irritation wasn't too clear in her voice.

Either Gravelsplash didn't notice or Clearfluff was better at hiding her emotions than she thought. "I wanted your opinion. Dreamspring, well. She's always had her anger, you know."

Clearfluff's tail twitched, wishing she could speed Gravelsplash to her point, but also knowing that the molly was obviously uncomfortable discussing her daughter and would probably stick to addressing the matter in a roundabout manner. Just because Clearfluff understood this didn't mean she had any more patience for it. "Yes, did she do something?"

Gravelsplash's hazel eyes went wide, the molly taking a quick double step back--pat, pat. StarClan, she was lucky she'd met Clearfluff in the middle and wasn't near the edge of the path. "Of course not!" Gravelsplash spluttered, offended, and Clearfluff, rather heroically, contained her growl of frustration. When Gravelsplash continued, her explanation was full of awkward hesitations and hushed words. "It's just... the battles. Dreamspring is a bit... jealous... of Hollowbrook. And now because of the battles, she's... obsessing over Owlpool. I think. Because Owlpool is good in battles."

"And you think--"

"Dreamspring, she gets... obsessive. She... wants things, has to have things, you understand?"

Clearfluff couldn't hold back her frustration, but at least it was reduced to a mere huff. "And you're worried she wants Owlpool? What, romantically? You don't want your daughter having a crush on another molly?"

Gravelsplash's snarl was enough to make Clearfluff immediately regret drawing that conclusion. The long-legged warrior was taller than she was, Clearfluff realized suddenly. "No, not at all. I'm worried because it's Dreamspring, and I know my daughter. She doesn't know when to back off, and I don't want to see any cat hurt!" Gravelsplash's sandy tail lashed, her ears held back.

Clearfluff closed her eyes for a heartbeat and then dipped her head. "I apologize for my assumption." She had to diffuse the situation and Clearfluff did feel bad about what she'd accused Gravelsplash of. But she also knew that if the queen had only come out and said what was wrong in the first place, then maybe Clearfluff wouldn't have had to fumble for her own conclusions.

"Yes, well." Gravelsplash licked at her shoulder, smoothing the rumpled fur there. "I thought you should know. You should also know Valleypaw--Valleyplume." The spotted molly had only received her warrior name the night before, after an outstanding performance in another HatchClan skirmish. "Valleyplume looks up to Dreamspring. Idolizes her, even. I don't think she knows about my daughter's...anger. But--"

"I should watch over that too. Alright," Clearfluff interrupted with a soft sigh, if only to get this conversation over with. The deputy was already well aware of Valleyplume's fascination with Dreamspring. She'd tried hard to keep the two on separate patrols whenever possible while Valleyplume was still young and impressionable, but it was impossible to keep the golden molly from seeking Dreamspring out on her own time.

Like with Valleyplume, she didn't know what Gravelsplash expected her to do with this information. Sure, she could keep them apart on patrols, even if Dreamspring and Owlpool were the two best cats to send to the HatchClan border...

"She means well, Dreamspring," Gravelsplash said, interrupting her thoughts. "She just... gets stuck sometimes. You know?"

"Your daughter is a good warrior," Clearfluff replied, because that's what Gravelsplash wants to hear. Mollified, the sandy queen turns and descends the switchbacks, probably to soak up the last of the leaf-fall rays beside the pool before the sun dips behind the gorge, leaving Clearfluff finally, blessedly, alone.

---

MOON 20

(While picking what StarClan cat would be most likely to start this plot, I got to see Bunnylight watching over Hollystar and Hazelkit watching over Marigoldpaw. Yall deserve to know this.)


Dustysun's dreams itched.

He'd been a full medicine cat for what? Five suns? Six? And already his dreams were crawling with StarClan cats. Lionfur had warned him that his sporadic dreams would become routine, but Dustysun hadn't thought that meant every night.

There were no prophecies, no omens; his dreams held formless whispers, the brush of pelts, and familiar scents he couldn't place. He saw through other cat's eyes, which Lionfur said was either a StarClan cat's memories or the dreams of his Clanmates, but it was impossible to tell the difference when each lasted only a heartbeat.

When he woke, it felt like he hadn't slept at all.

"I feel like I'm sneezing Stardust," he muttered when he woke up that morning, groggy and itchy, like his nose and tongue were covered in fur.

"It gets easier," Lionfur said, stretching, but Dustysun could see the haunted look in his mentor's pale eyes, knew he too suffered through the same mash of dreams Dustysun did. His respect for Lionfur grew as the white-and-ginger healer shook his fur, blinked, and forced the dream-haze away.

Dustysun tried to do the same, rising and shaking the Stardust from his fur. But half-way through grooming he froze, suddenly remembering. One of the tumble of images in his dream stuck like honey, dripping ice-melt down his spine. "Lionfur," he said softly. "I think StarClan might have sent me an omen."

----

"Right. Everyone remembers their positions?"

Valleyplume dug her claws into the dry soil in front of the chain-link fence, glaring at the broken building behind it. She wanted to snap, but Clearfluff beat her to it: "We need to be quick. In and out. Don't let them corner you into a long fight. As soon as you hear the signal, break off and retreat."

"Yeah, yeah," Dreamspring said, her hackles raised as if they were already in the thick of battle. "We outnumber them, we have the element of surprise, let's just get this over with."

Nearly all of GoldenClan's fighting force was standing here, lined up against the fence. Only Hollowbrook, Lionfur and Gingerpaw had stayed back in camp. Dustysun insisted on joining them, claiming StarClan wanted him to be there for the fight.

Valleyplume was in charge of protecting her mouse-brained brother. He looked scared, which was good; he was a healer with not a lick of battle training, fear would make him cautious. Still, she stepped closer to his side, pushing her fur into his, tapping her tail against his side. I'm here, the touches said, and she felt some of his fear bleed away.

"GoldenClan! Forward!" Hollystar commanded, and as a wave of fur the warriors climbed the chain-linked fence and dropped to the other side. Valleyplume immediately dropped into a defensive position while she waited for Dustysun to follow behind her, but the yard inside the fence was empty. At least for now.

"Where is he?" Dustysun was breathing heavily already, though how much of that was from exertion and how much from anxiety she couldn't tell. She touched her tail to his brown flank again and he stood taller, looking around, then pointed with towards one of the building's fallen walls.

Hollystar saw the signal and nodded, leading the way with Brightclaw at her side. Valleyplume followed the pair a tree-length behind, sticking close to Dustysun's flank. The others, led by Clearfluff, spread out around the open yard, ready to intercept any cats that tried to attack.

Dustysun said there weren't many cats in the carrionplace. He also said they were keeping an old tomcat prisoner, barely alive and poisoned to keep him from escaping. That was the cat StarClan asked him to save, who GoldenClan was now attempting to rescue.

The yard was silent, still. GoldenClan's warriors were planted like seeds, ready to spring into action once the fighting spilled out of the building. Valleyplume tried to focus only on Dustysun and the pair of cats in front of her, her eyes only on her part of the mission.

Protect Dustysun. Locate the room the tomcat was being held in. Get Dustysun out before they could be pinned down.

Hollystar and Brightclaw reached the building, inching towards a gap torn away from the ragged, metal sheeting. Hollystar went in first and a few heartbeats later, Brightclaw was signaling the all clear, waiting for Valleyplume and Dustysun to come closer before she too entered the building. "Remember: as soon as the fighting starts, run back here. I'll cover you."

It was all she could do, the last communication they could afford before the pair of siblings slipped in behind and stealthed forward. Now that they were inside, Valleyplume and Dustysun would lead the way. Only Dustysun knew where the tomcat was being held, and only then from blurry visions that he said were nearly impossible to decipher without seeing where they overlapped with reality... whatever that meant. He knew the way, and that was what mattered. So after they were inside the building, Valleyplume was forced to take point, Dustysun following close behind, while Hollystar and Brightclaw covered their escape route.

Once Owlpool determined that the cats didn't have any scouts watching the yard, she'd deduced that their best shot at getting everyone out safely was to send a small group inside while the others waited in the yard. If they could reach their target without being spotted and sneak him out, all the better. And even if they did get caught mid-way through the operation, the open ground of the yard favored GoldenClan. Fighting inside the building, the rogue's home turf, would negate any advantage the warriors might have had with numbers or skill. So they would try and do things sneaky, and run if they were discovered.

It was a good plan, but sneaking across the metal floors that were cold on her paw-pads with the echoing clinks and clunks and the smell of decay thick on her tongue, each heartbeat heavy with the fear of discovery... Valleyplume felt trapped here. Hunted. At least an honest brawl would have put less strain on her thumping heart.

A sound from her left. She skittered, pressing Dustysun against the wall, then forced herself to relax when the sound came to be a steady dripping of water onto a metal sheet. Thwung, thwing, thwing. Valleyplume signed--another reason she was chosen to be Dustysun's escort, their silent communication a perfect tool for the mission--are we close?

The healer closed his eyes, his brown spotted pelt twitching. It was like he was walking without moving his legs. Looks familiar, he signed back, wrinkling his nose. Left? The directional poke of his tail wobbled, unsure. Valleyplume glared and he only shrugged in return.

They went left, down a narrower hallway that reeked of cat. Valleyplume walked cautiously, expecting rogues to attack at any moment, and when Dustysun poked her hind paw she jumped several tail-lengths in the air and only barely managed to clamp down on a yowl of surprise.

Dustysun urgently pointed to a door a tree-length down the hall, mouthing, “there!” His eyes were wide and sparkling with starlight at the edges, the perfect corona of an eclipse. She trusted him. She moved forward, creeping the last tail-length to the doorway and lowering herself tight to the floor to peek inside.

A battle-scarred tomcat sat inside, spread out in the single beam of sunlight that poked through the broken roof. It took Valleyplume a few scans to see the cat curled in the shadows, as his dark tabby fur and scrawny, still form rendered him nearly invisible. Slowly, silently, she pulled away from the door frame back into the hallway, where the three others clumped defensively. He’s there, she signed to Dustysun. To the others, she sent in the simpler battle-sign all warriors learned to communicate in the field: one enemy.

Hollystar nodded. She gave her own orders: sneak attack, flank them, and then they moved in.

The poor tomcat didn’t know what hit him. Hollystar pounced from one side, Brightclaw covered the other, and within heartbeats the two mollies had him pinned down, his muzzle pressed into the floor. Valleyplume hadn’t even had to leave Dustysun’s side.

Fighting the rogues wasn’t their objective, though, it was the black tomcat that, having heard the commotion, was struggling to stand.

“Hey, hey,” Dustysun said, his voice barely over a whisper. “It’s alright, we’re here to help you.”

The elderly black tom swiped with a paw. He was off balance and weak--from age, from starvation, from poison if Dustysun’s interpretation of StarClan’s message was right--but Dustysun still would have been slashed across the face if Valleyplume hadn’t knocked the tomcat’s claws away with her own paw. “Seriously!” she hissed. “We are trying to rescue you, so please don’t make it harder than it has to be.”

Her words got through the foggy fever that covered his silver eyes and he slumped back. “Oh, thank StarClan.” Now that the threat of danger had passed, he seemed to be falling into a stupor, his legs shaking as his eyes glazed back over.

Valleyplume poked him, sharply, on the shoulder. “We can’t afford to carry you out, you’re gonna have to help us out here,” she said. She prodded the old cat to his paws, trying to be gentle, but also recognizing that the GoldenClan rescue party was on borrowed time. As soon as Hollystar and Brightclaw let the scarred tomcat go--and they had to let him go, they couldn’t take him prisoner and they weren't about to kill him in cold blood--all the rogues in earshot would be on their tails, baying for blood.

So Valleyplume gritted her teeth and kept prodding, until the black tabby was on his paws, leaning against Dustysun’s flank. From the grimace on Dustysun’s face, the tom was barely able to keep on his own paws. Once they were as mobile as they could get, Valleyplume signaled to Hollystar. “We’ll give you ten heartbeats, then we’ll let this one go. May StarClan speed your paws.”

Like going in, Valleyplume went first. But this time, she didn’t bother sneaking about, instead pushing forward as fast as Dustysun and the tabby could follow. She’d carefully watched their path in, and so was able to guide them through the turns back until--

“Intruders!”

“Go!” That was Brightclaw’s voice, echoing down the metal hallways, and soon the two mollies were sprinting up beside them, claws out, fangs bared.

And StarClan did guide their path. Their group only ran into one other group: a pair of rogues that Brightclaw and Hollystar engaged only long enough for Dustysun and the black tabby tom to stagger by with Valleyplume hovering close before pushing away before they got too far.

Another trio of rogues caught them right as they were trying to shove the tabby tom through the gap in the metal they’d entered through. Valleyplume hissed, forcing her way through the gap beside him--the sharp metal ripped a thin cut across her flank as she squeezed past, smarting against the breeze--and grabbed his scruff from the other side, yanking him free of the building.

“Clearfluff!” Valleyplume shouted, even as she threw her shoulder under his chest, pushing him back to his paws. GoldenClan scent descended in a flood: Owlpool and Dreamspring there to help push the trio of rogues back and cover Hollystar and Brightclaw’s retreat.

Dustysun had exited the building first and was already half-way across the yard in a dead sprint, fleeing back to the fence line as he was instructed to do if a battle broke out. Valleyplume breathed a sigh of relief that her brother had made it out of danger, at least. It would be hard enough to protect their rescued prisoner in the fight, and the healer would have only slowed them down at this point in the mission.

Screeches and caterwauls rang in Valleyplume’s ears as she picked her way through the scattered piles of tussling cats, practically carrying the black tomcat on her back. Her claws unsheathed, ripping into the earth.

Burnetblossom yowled right beside her with a black and white molly pinning her to the ground, her paw raised, and Valleyplume wanted so badly to jump into the fray, add her claws to the pile. She turned her head away, focusing only on the fence. That was her goal. Reach the fence and the battle was over, reach the fence and Hollystar would pull the GoldenClan cats away.

Reach the fence, Valleyplume, and you’ll save them all.

Valleyplume growled and pushed faster. The screeching behind her sped her paws, gave her strength. Once they reached the outer bounds of the sprawling battle, Dustysun raced up to help carry the black tomcat. They made better progress together, and eventually there was only that one last barrier. “C’mon, one last push,” Valleyplume panted. She didn’t know if the encouragement was meant for the fever-ridden elder, her brother, or herself.

She got to the top and reached down, Dustysun pushed up, and between the two of them managed to haul the tomcat over the fence. Getting down was the easy part, even if Valleyplume would certainly have bruises from breaking the elder’s fall.

It was Dustysun who sent the signal, a trio of sharp yowls that carried over the yard. Hollystar’s echoed calls for retreat weren’t as loud, but the effect was the same: GoldenClan’s warriors broke from the fight, racing back to the fence line and over the top, less in a wave and more like individual spatterings of rain.

Hollystar and Clearfluff remained in the yard until every other cat had cleared the fence. But they hadn’t needed to guard the GoldenClan retreat: the rogues didn’t follow the fleeing warriors, instead howling and calling victory as their opponents turned tail.

In the end, Owlpool’s plan had worked perfectly. A few cats had some scratches and scuffs, but their number advantage and the open terrain meant the rogues couldn’t pin any cat down for long. She learned that Clearfluff had tackled the black-and-white molly off Burnetblossom only seconds after Valleyplume turned away. “Not half bad for the Clan’s youngest warrior,” the gruff deputy had said, which made Valleyplume proud she hadn’t given in to her reckless urge to fight.

The black tabby tom was weak, but after a few days, Lionfur announced he was stable. He was still very old and very weak and the poison was still in his system, but he was talking and eating and taking fluids, all things that Dustysun said were good signs pointing to eventual recovery.

“His name is Ivysnap. He’s a GoldenClan warrior from before, like Brooktalon was. He’s glad to finally be home.”

---

“I’m visually impaired,” Marigoldpaw said.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Burnetblossom replied, tipping her head.

Gingerpaw could see the signs of his sister’s growing anger, and even if he was tired to the bone, pulled himself up to step in. Couldn’t his Clanmates last one day without fighting between themselves?

Gingerpaw spent the whole afternoon with Hollystar, Morningstar, and the HatchClan mediator Eaglesong, trying to negotiate a peace between the two Clans. They’ve been at a stalemate for the entire moon: no fighting, but they couldn’t find a compromise either.

It’s not like they could break Hollowbrook in two and let each Clan have half of her.

“No! You said I was half-blind!” Marigoldpaw said, and though Gingerpaw was behind her and couldn’t see her face, he caught every word as she signed at the same time. It was an unintentional thing, complete habit, as she didn’t even know Gingerpaw was around. It warmed his heart to know that, like him, sign was such a part of how she communicated that she used it without thinking.

He could see Burnetblossom’s face, though, and he had a lot more practice reading the words off cat’s mouths: “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“It’s not the same at all,” Marigoldpaw said, her sign growing sharp to match the angles of her snarl.

“Stop,” Gingerpaw said. His voice always makes cats turn. Dustysun told him he sounds like a rock trying to speak cat--Gingerpaw thought that was awesome. Learning words was still a slow process, so he tried to keep it simple. “How do you feel?” Like a warrior needed claws, a mediator’s finest tool was those simple words. He’d learned them early and practiced them often.

He turned to Marigoldpaw, pointing the question at his sister first. Along with the words, he signed the complexity he couldn’t fit into speech: tell her the difference and why it matters to you.

Gingerpaw saw her putting her anger away and nodded in approval. “I’m not blind. Using the words half-blind makes me feel like you’ve already decided I wasn’t worth the effort. I prefer the term visually impaired because it lets others know I might not see as well as they can, but that I am still fully capable of being a warrior.”

Burnetblossom’s tail flicked. “I never said you weren’t capable! I was trying to defend you!”

Marigoldpaw took a deep breath, and Gingerpaw respected his sister’s restraint. He knew she dealt with a lot, more than he did sometimes. “My sight--or lack thereof--should never be an excuse. It wasn’t because of my eyesight that Valleyplume was named a warrior first. It was because she fought bravely. She deserved it, and I wasn’t--I’m still not--ready. I never use my visual impairment as an excuse, and so it made me feel very hurt that you did.”

Her speech was long but well-said, and Gingerpaw was glad he had Marigoldpaw’s sign to lean on so he didn’t miss the nuance. It was also clear to him that her anger didn’t stem from Burnetblossom using the wrong term, but because Burnetblossom--in Marigoldpaw’s eyes--thought her disability was slowing down her training.

“How do you catch a bird if you can’t see it?”

Gingerpaw tried to step between them but it was too late. “I don’t know,” Marigoldpaw said, and Gingerpaw couldn’t hear her but knew her voice was sharp as sheared stone. “Maybe if you weren’t half-deaf you would have heard that snake before you nearly stepped on it! I heard it! I pushed you out of the way! And I didn’t need working eyes for that.”

He did interfere before the two could trade blows, stepping between them and breaking the two mollies glares with his own flank. “Stop,” he said again. But there was no hope in trying to get them to find a middle ground, not now. “Stop. Go away. Try later.”

Burnetblossom settled her bristling hackles, rolled her eyes, and stalked into the warrior’s den. She must have spoken something with her back turned, as Marigoldpaw bristled again. Gingerpaw stopped her from following with a paw and a stern glare. I’m disappointed in you.

“She doesn’t understand!”

You think I don’t know that? Me? Gingerpaw nearly rolled his own eyes, but instead butted his head against his sister’s shoulder. That was the good thing about their sign, he could say most things with his nose still buried in her fur, and Marigoldpaw was good enough to imply what he couldn’t from the gaps. They’ll understand eventually. It won’t be soon, and it won’t be easy, but it will happen. They’ll wake up and realize: oh, Gingerpaw can’t hear, but he’s the only one that can see Clearfluff’s irritated before she snaps. Or: oh, Marigoldpaw can’t see very well, but she can smell a mouse from two tree-lengths away and stalk it with less sound than a turtle’s fart.

He could feel Marigoldpaw laugh at that last one, her shoulder moving under his nose. Gingerpaw grinned.

It shouldn’t take so long for them to accept us, Marigoldpaw signed, silently.

No, it shouldn’t. But one day they will, and that’s what matters.

---

MOON 21

As soon as one litter of apprentices are named warriors, another litter of kits comes to replace them. A blessing from StarClan, perhaps, as they build the Clan to its former glory. Lionfur certainly thinks so.

It is unfortunate that three of the four kittens the Clan rescued are toms, but at least all survived. Hollystar nearly didn't, having a close call with the dog that had killed the kittens' father. She'd fought valiantly, holding it off all by herself so that the other members of the patrol could take the kittens to safety.

Lionfur licked over Honeykit's head, pulled little Cavernkit closer. The molly was double-Blessed, like Hollystar was: brown-and-ginger swirled fur, eyes that were silver in the centers with dark blue rims. Hollystar said that StarClan led her to the stone cavern in the gorge where a tomcat sheltered his four kittens--of course they did, because Cavernkit was meant to be raised in GoldenClan.

Across the healer's den, Gravelsplash coughed. It was only whitecough, easily treatable, but Lionfur had Dustysun on her case so he could take care of the kittens without spreading illness to the vulnerable kits.




Brightclaw confesses to Hollystar but is rejected. Oh no </3
Gravelsplash gets whitecough. Valleyplume was seen sharing prey with a kittypet. Eats prey on patorl. MARIGOLDTHORN! Ivysnap recovers. Good!!

A rogue leaves three three-moon old kits with GoldenClan and Dustysun takes them in. Three toms and one double-blessed molly!!!

Hollystar has a fight with Ivysnap? Almost lost a life recently. Dog?
Lionfur x Marigoldthorn, Clearfluff, Brightclaw

Clearfluff, Holloybrook, Dreamspring, Marigoldthorn TrickleClan cats. Marigoldthorn brings up that awkward story how she and Gravelsplash trespassed and how now she's a warrior now.

TUMBLEFLICKER my child. He absolutely just gets emotionally attached to this abandoned kit and she immediately just adores him it's so so so cute <33 And Poolspot keeps seeing them together and interacting positively with the both of them, constantly having Swampkit in her thought bubbles, and the last moon she got a romantic tick towards tumbleflicker??? she wants IN on that family

ALSO OAKSTAR BRO It's been a YEAR since Spotbee and him started liking each other and their relationship had only ticked up once since on Spotbee's end but not Oakstar's. And after that, Iciclenudge has been non-stop flirting with Spotbee (though he hasn't flirted too much back). AND THEN, just as I have a great timing to get Spotbee and Iciclenudge together, Oakstar just comes onto Spotbee super hard and Spotbee immediately drops Iciclenudge's romantic ticks to get back with Oakstar haha And then two moons later, Oakstar's the one to propose being mates officially!
I wrote it as if Oakstar ALWAYS had a crush on Spotbee, so when Spotbee starts flirting, he hard blocks the tom out because he didn't want to be heartbroken if he was wrong, and that he was so desperate for Spotbee's attention that he didn't want to confess and accedentally go too fast and spook him off. But then Spotbee confesses and Oakstar is just like. So so happy he wasn't just seeing what he wanted to see from their relationship and from then on out, Oakstar was the one initiating their lil dates <3<3 and Spotbee is ECSTATIC because he's totally too shy to be the assertive one in the relationship lmao it took everything for him to have the courage to confess his feelings <3<3

Also that everyone got poisoned like really. TECHNICALLY in the game, Iciclenudge wasn't "poisoned" but nearly drowned like Streakrise... but I couldn't figure out a way for him to be dumb enough to fall in, and we had just gotten that plotline from her, and I really wanted him to have an arc searching for Swampkit's parents, so I went with the polluted puddle poison instead for his injury. Hopefully he doesn't get a long-term lung illness, cuz then I'll have to figure out a way to explain why his stomach cramps got to his lungs (or come up with another wound for the poor man. he's been ill more than not since the game started, give the deputy a break!!!)