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Chapter Text

ThunderClan:
Leader - Firestar
Deputy - Graystripe
Medicine Cat - Cinderpelt
Warriors:
Mousefur
Dustpelt
Sandstorm
Brackenfur
Thornclaw
Brightheart
Ashfur
Cloudtail
Brambleclaw
Rainwhisker
Sootfur
Sorreltail
Apprentices:
Shrewpaw(Thornclaw)
Spiderpaw(Mousefur)
Leafpaw(Cinderpelt)
Squirrelpaw(Dustpelt)
Whitepaw(Brackenfur)
Queens:
Goldenflower
Ferncloud(Dustpelt: Birchkit, Hollykit, & Larchkit)
Elders:
Speckletail
Dappletail
Frostfur
Longtail

ShadowClan:
Leader - Blackstar
Deputy - Russetfur
Medicine Cat - Littlecloud
Warriors:
Wolfstep
Deerfoot
Tangleburr
Nightwhisper
Wetfoot
Ratscar
Snowbird
Oakfur
Cedarheart
Rowanclaw
Tawnypelt
Wildfur
Smokefoot
Snaketail
Apprentice:
Kinkpaw(Snowbird)
Queens:
Fernshade(Wolfstep: expecting)
Tallpoppy(Blackstar: Toadkit, Applekit, & Marshkit)
Darkflower(Nightwhisper: expecting)
Dawncloud
Nightwing(Cedarheart: Smokekit & Talonkit)
Elders:
Newtspect
Rowanberry
Boulder
Flintfang
Runningnose

WindClan:
Leader - Tallstar
Deputy - Mudclaw
Medicine Cat - Barkface
Warriors:
Pigeonflight
Sorrelshine
Flytail
Oatwhisker
Rushtail
Darkfoot
Tornear
Ashfoot
Onewhisker
Runningbrook
Webfoot
Whitetail
Emberfoot
Gorsepelt
Nightcloud
Apprentices:
Crowpaw(Mudclaw)
Thistlepaw(Gorsepelt)
Gorsepaw(Ashfoot)
Cranberrypaw(Pigeonflight)
Queens:
Morningflower
Thrushwing(Tornear: expecting)
Robinwing(Gorsepelt: Weaselkit & Owlkit)
Willowclaw(Webfoot: expecting)
Elders:
Plumclaw
Stagleap
Ryestalk
Doespring
Wrenflight
Crowfur

RiverClan:
Leader - Leopardstar
Deputy - Mistyfoot
Medicine Cat - Mudfur
Warriors:
Voleclaw
Petaldust
Reedtail
Loudbelly
Blackclaw
Grasswhisker
Heavystep
Shadepelt
Reedwhisker
Feathertail
Stormfur
Swallowtail
Ivyheart
Hawkfrost
Mothwing
Apprentices:
Volepaw(Blackclaw)
Stonepaw(Heavystep)
Splashpaw(Swallowtail)
Queens:
Skyheart(Reedtail: Pinekit, Duskkit, & Icekit)
Dawnbright(Loudbelly: expecting)
Mallowtail(Grasswhisker: Ripplekit & Beechkit)
Vixenleap(Heavystep: expecting)
Mosspelt(Frogleap: Willowkit)
Dawnflower(Voleclaw: expecting)
Elders:
Timberfur
Rippleclaw
Ottersplash
Piketooth
Lilystem

StarClan:
(ThunderClan)
Bluestar
(ShadowClan)
Nightstar
(WindClan)
Deadfoot
(RiverClan)
Oakheart

Outside Clans:
Ravenpaw
Barley
Purdy
Midnight

Chapter Text

Night casted its shadow over the forest, and the air was heavy with the scent of late greenleaf. The moon was nowhere to be found, but the stars of Silverpelt were projecting their frosty glitter over the trees. At the bottom of a rocky hill, a pool reflected the starshine.

Wind sighed softly through the trees and ruffled the untouched surface of the pool. At the top of the hollow, the fronds of bracken parted to reveal a cat, her slate fur glimmering as she stepped delicately from rock to rock, right down to the water’s edge.

Sitting on a flat stone that protruded out over the pool, she raised her head to peer around. As if on command, three more cats made their appearance, slipping into the hollow from different directions. They padded down to sit as close to the water as they could, and turned their expectant gazes toward the cat first to arrive.

The blue-gray molly rose to her paws. “A new prophecy has come!” She announced sonorously, her voice reverberating around the hollow. “A doom that threatens to change everything has been foretold in the stars.”

The cat directly in front of her on the opposite side of the pool nodded his cinnamon head in confirmation. “I was told of this, too. A great challenge lies ahead of us.”

“Darkness, air, water, and sky will come together, and shake the forest to its roots.” The first cat continued. “Nothing will be the same as it is now, nor as it has been before.”

“A great storm is coming.” Added the sable tom with a twisted front paw to her left.

On her right side, the last tom with a glossy, ebony pelt jumped up suddenly to retaliate. “Can nothing change what is about to happen? Not even the courage and spirit of the greatest warrior?”

“The doom will come.” The slate molly replied coolly. “But if the Clans meet it like warriors, they may survive.” Lifting her head, she let her luminous gaze traverse over the other cats sitting around her. “We have all been made aware of this dire prophecy,” she meowed, “and we know the responsibility that we bear.” Once again her eyes roved over her companions. “Are you prepared to choose the cat that will hold your Clan’s fate in their paws?”

As she finished speaking, the surface of the pool rippled, though there was no wind to disturb it, then returned to its state of rest.

The red-brown tom stood, starlight turning the fur on his broad shoulders to silver. “I will begin.” He meowed. He stared down into the water, as motionless as the rocks around him. A fluffy, light gray blur formed on the surface of the pool, and all the cats craned forward to see it more clearly.

“That one?” Murmured the blue-gray molly. “Are you sure, Oakheart?”

The tip of the cinnamon tom’s tail flicked back and forth as a smirk creased his mouth. “I thought this choice would please you, Bluestar.” He meowed teasingly. “Do you not think she was well mentored?”

“She was excellently mentored.” Bluestar defended, her neck fur rising in agitation of her mate’s blithe. But, amusement still managed to creep onto her face. “Do you two agree?” She asked as she swept her tail between the raven duo.

They both nodded in assent, and the silver shape thinned and vanished from the water, leaving it clear and empty again.

The next cat to stand was the glossy tom to Bluestar’s right. He padded to the very edge of the pool. “Here is my choice.” He proclaimed. “See it and approve.”

This time the shape in the water was tawny-colored and muscular. Bluestar studied the image for a few moments before nodding. “She has strength and courage.” She agreed.

“But Nightstar, does she have loyalty?” Queried the tom with the twisted paw, his pear green eyes dark with disapproval.

Nightstar’s head shot up to glare angrily at the tom in front of him, and his claws dug into the ground. “Are you calling her disloyal?” He snarled.

“If I am, there’s a reason for it.” The green-eyed tom snapped back. “She was not born in ShadowClan, was she? And you know who her father was.”

“Those aren’t exactly bad things.” Bluestar meowed calmly. “If the Clans cannot work together now, they will all be destroyed. Maybe it will take cats with a paw in two Clans to understand what needs to be done. And I think she’s proven that she is not like her father. The fact she realized the truth of his ambition and turned against him and BloodClan is proof enough of this.” She paused for a moment, but no other objections were forthcoming. “Do we all approve?”

There was hesitation from the green-eyed tom, but after a moment of thought he nodded his acquiesce, and turned his gaze to the pool as it erased the tawny molly from view. “My turn, I guess.” He limped toward the water. “See and approve my choice.”

The charcoal shape that formed in the pool was difficult to see against the reflection of the night sky, and the cats squinted at it for some time before anyone spoke.

“What?!” Oakheart exclaimed at last. “That’s an apprentice!”

“Yes, I had noticed that. Thank you, Oakheart.” The sable tom meowed dryly.

“Deadfoot, you can’t send an apprentice into danger such as this.” Nightstar argued.

“Apprentice he may be,” Deadfoot retorted, “but he has courage and skill to match many warriors. One day he might even make a fine leader of WindClan.” He stated proudly, straightening and puffing out his chest.

Nightstar scoffed. “You’re only saying that because he’s your son.”

A growl escaped Deadfoot, but before he could say anything Bluestar interjected.

“One day is not now,” she pointed out, “and the qualities of a leader are not necessarily those that the Clans need to save them currently. Do you wish to make another choice?”

Deadfoot’s tail lashed furiously and his neck fur bristled as he glared harshly at Bluestar. “This is my choice.” He insisted. “Do you, or anyone else, dare to say he is unworthy?”

“What do you say?” The molly’s gaze traced the circle. “Do we approve? Remember that every Clan will be lost if one of our chosen cats should weaken or fail.”

Oakheart shrugged his shoulders with an easygoing smile toward Deadfoot, but Nightstar shifted anxiously and stared down at his paws. Eventually, though, he looked back up with a slight nod at Deadfoot. Deadfoot relaxed a little, then looked over at Bluestar for her approval. She dipped her head in endorsement.

When the water had cleared again, Oakheart meowed. “You have not yet made your choice for ThunderClan, Bluestar.” He looked at her curiously.

“No, but I am ready now.” She replied. “See and approve my choice.” She gazed down in satisfaction as a large, chocolate brown tabby manifested in the depths of the pool.

An outraged cry echoed throughout the hollow.

“That one?!” Deadfoot rounded on Bluestar, his flaming green gaze boring into her. “Are you insane?”

A boisterous laugh from Oakheart erupted as well. “Wow! You never cease to surprise me, Bluestar.” He wheezed.

Bluestar casted an annoyed glare at the two insolent toms, then turned it to Nightstar, but her gaze softened when she saw the worry and terror in his eyes. She sighed. “He is a noble young cat, fit for the challenges this prophecy will bring.”

“But he’s Tigerstar’s son!” Deadfoot shouted. “Have you forgotten the atrocities that tyrant has committed?”

Anger flashed in Bluestar’s eyes. “I can never forget!” She spat. Taking a calming breath, she added, “But what I said about Nightstar’s choice applies here as well. Despite what his father has done, I see the good in him. His mentor was Firestar, after all.” There was a proud glow in her sapphire gaze as she mentioned her former deputy, but it was quickly replaced with a cold resolve. “Say what you like, but I am not changing my mind.” She stated firmly, her icy stare slicing through the toms.

“…Well in that case,” Oakheart croaked after a brief silence, “do we all approve?”

Nightstar nodded his head slowly, and Deadfoot mumbled a few unintelligible words under his breath, but ultimately agreed.

“Oakheart?” Bluestar questioned her mate, but her tone was not as forceful towards him as it had been with the others.

Oakheart grinned at her. “Whatever you say, blueberry- I mean Bluestar.” He swiftly corrected himself, giving her a sheepish smile when she glared at him, her fur having turned rosy below her eyes.

Shaking off her flusteredness, Bluestar stood to readdress the other three representatives of the four Clans.

“Gathered cats,” she meowed, raising her voice, “your choices have been made. Soon the journey must begin, to meet the terrible storm that will be released on the forest. Go to your chosen cats, and make sure each one is ready.”

She paused, and her eyes blazed with a fierce, silver flame. “We can choose a warrior to save each Clan, but beyond that we cannot help them. May the spirits of our warrior ancestors go with these cats, wherever the stars may lead them.”

Chapter Text

The sun shone brightly against a light blue sky, its hot rays baking the air. Puffy white clouds streaked across as a steady wind guided them along their course. Birds glided through the breeze, squawking as they drifted to fly over a long stretch of almost barren sand, walled in by a line of high cliffs.

A large, brown tabby tom sat in the warm, golden sand, watching the water that surrounded the small beach he had found himself on lap over his paws. He breathed in the tropical air, and wrinkled his nose when he caught a whiff of the salty stench that wafted off the water, which only served to confuse him. Water didn’t usually smell like that.

Curiosity tugging at his fur, he dared to tread into the briny expanse, and a cold feeling rushed up his legs and leapt into his spine. He shivered. 

He had no idea how he had ended up on this beach, but the peacefulness it emanated gave him no reason to be troubled by it, and he allowed himself to relax, letting out a calming breath as the tension built up in his body released itself. 

His ears pricked up at the sound of a loud caw. Looking up, he saw that the flock of birds had migrated over to soar right above him. He watched in amusement as they danced in the sky, performing tricks that he could only dream of doing himself. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander as he listened to the song of the birds and the waves that were washing against the shore, lulling him into a sense of much needed security. 

But as he continued to be entranced by the serenade, it was soon interrupted by a piercing shriek. The tom’s eyes flew open and his head rocketed toward the sky, where the bird's once tranquil gathering had turned into a tumultuous panic. 

Confusion and terror overtaking him, the tom stumbled around, trying to get an understanding of what was happening. As he did, the ground suddenly began to rumble under his paws. 

Frantically, he looked back out at the water to find the source of the shaking, and froze in place when he saw a colossal wave surging toward the beach. Taking a breathless gasp, he began a clumsy attempt of escape, but he could not outrun the wave. It crashed into him, swallowing the coast whole and dragging the tom away as he was sloshed backwards and into open water. 

After a painstakingly long moment of struggle, he managed to crash his head through the surface of the water, releasing a coughing fit as he attempted to expel the salty liquid from his lungs, his eyes stinging intensely. He thrashed about, trying to stay above the black expanse and pushing against the current that threatened to pull him back under.

Looking around, his eyes widened in shock as he realized the scenery had changed. The sky was now dark and empty, the clouds and birds having disappeared. He stretched up his neck, straining to find the beach, but all he could see were endless, heaving, blue-green waves.

“Help! Help me!” The tom called out desperately, summarily choking as a sharp, salty wave filled his mouth, dragging at his fur and pulling his body halfway under. His paws worked even harder as he struggled to keep his head above the surface. On the horizon, he caught a glimpse of the sun sinking into the waves in a pool of flame, its dying rays tracing a path of blood that stretched toward him. Then his head went under and the cold salt water flooded into his mouth once more.

I’m drowning! He wailed silently as he fought for his life. StarClan help me! 

His head broke the surface and a strong current spun him around with his back legs dangling helplessly beneath him. Choking and gasping for air, he found himself gazing up at a sheer wall of smooth sand-colored rock. Had he been swept into the gorge? No, these cliffs were higher still. At their base, the waves sucked at a dark hole, edged by jagged rocks that made it look like a gaping mouth with teeth. The tom’s terror increased as he realized that the swirling water was carrying him straight toward the stony jaws.

“No! No!” He yowled. “Help me!” He kicked and thrashed in a panic, but he was growing weaker and his sodden fur was weighing him down. The waves drove him onward, crashing against the rocks; now the black mouth loomed over him, spitting salty foam, as if it were about to swallow him alive.

Suddenly, amidst the hysteria, the tom heard an echoey voice calling out to him.

“Brambleclaw, can you hear me? Brambleclaw.”

The bemused tabby extended his ears and head to pinpoint the location of the voice, and he saw that the beach had returned. He spotted a grayish shape as well, standing on the shore, and upon further inspection he realized it was a badger, recognizing the creature’s distinguished black-and-white face. Though it was hard to tell, its mouth appeared to be moving, another runoff of words escaping through its dog-like fangs.

“Brambleclaw, you need to wake up. Wake up!”

Wake up? Then the tom felt a light prodding at his side. He twisted his head to see what or who was doing it, but nothing was there. The feeling persisted, however, the invisible force behind it now jabbing at him, digging itself into his body.

“Brambleclaw!”

Brambleclaw was jarred out of his nightmare. As he took in his surroundings, breathing heavily, he turned to face an orange-furred cat with striking green eyes staring directly at him. He yelped and slid back in a startle. 

The ginger molly before him sat back on her haunches, then barked a laugh. “Ha! I scared you, didn’t I?” She jeered. 

Brambleclaw shook himself from his disarray, his eyes narrowing in irritation when he recognized his rude awakener. “Squirrelpaw, what are you doing in here? This is the Warriors’ Den.”

“I know that you fox-heart! I came to wake you up. You overslept.” Squirrelpaw meowed harshly, pointing her nose up in defiance. 

Brambleclaw blustered. “What are you talking about? I didn’t-” He cut himself off as his gaze reflexively drifted through the den, realizing its vacancy. “Wh-where did every-cat go?” He mewed as he stood up, his head darting around.

“They left. Because it’s morning. Which means it’s time to get up. StarClan, do I have to explain everything to you?” Squirrelpaw huffed impatiently. 

Brambleclaw’s head snapped back to her. “And why did you have to be the one to come and get me?” He growled. “Does someone want me?” 

“Yes: Me! I want you to go hunting with me!” She chirped brightly, an encouraging smile gracing her face.

“What! Wait, are you telling me that you woke me up just so you could make me go hunting with you?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s literally what I just said.” Squirrelpaw groaned. “You are so bad at this.”

“Well the answer is no.” Brambleclaw pushed past Squirrelpaw and out the den entrance. He stopped outside it, and breathed in deeply the fresh, morning air, trying to rid himself of the salty smell of the lake that still lingered in his nose. He glared around the camp, and his eyes were immediately drawn to the fresh-kill pile. Brambleclaw heard his belly growl, and he licked his lips and stalked off to get some prey. 

Behind him, Squirrelpaw let out a whine.

“Please, Brambleclaw? I really want to go hunting but I can’t by myself and no one else wants to come with me. I promise I won’t annoy you and listen to whatever you say. I’ll even let you choose where we hunt. Just please go with me!”

Brambleclaw growled an agitated sigh. “Why can’t Dustpelt take you hunting? He’s your mentor.”

“Because he’s spending the day in the Nursery with Ferncloud. Their kits were born super early this morning. Hey!” Squirrelpaw suddenly exclaimed, leaping in front of Brambleclaw. “You should go see them! They’re so cute! It’s two mollies and one tom, and one of the mollies is big and dark brown like Dustpelt and the other molly is small and gray like Ferncloud and the tom is a mixture of his parents being medium sized and brown but a light brown not a dark brown and flecks instead of stripes and-”

”Squirrelpaw!” The blabbermouth apprentice snapped her head up to be met with Brambleclaw’s red eyes, popping out and practically steaming in fury, fur sticking up at all angles. 

“Yes?”

Brambleclaw took a steadying breath, but his pelt did not lie flat. “If I go see the kits, will you stop bothering me?” He hissed pointedly, his gaze still sharp with anger.

Squirrelpaw’s expression turned bitter, and her body deflated as the excitement left her, eyes drawn to the ground. 

“…Yeah…” She conceded.

“Okay, then let’s go.” 

The pair set off for the Nursery. Brambleclaw squeezed through the narrow entrance, wincing as thorns scraped against his broad shoulders.

Inside it was warm and quiet. Ferncloud was laying on her side in a deep nest of moss. Her green eyes glowed as she gazed at the three tiny kits curled up snugly in the curve of her body. Dustpelt was crouched beside her with his paws tucked beneath him, occasionally rasping his tongue affectionately over her ear.

“Hi, there, Brambleclaw.” He meowed as the younger warrior appeared. “Come to see the new kits?” He looked ready to burst with pride, quite different from his usual prickly, detached air.

“Yep! I told him they were adorable!” Squirrelpaw blurted, poking her head out from behind Brambleclaw.

Inwardly Brambleclaw rolled his eyes, but his mind was more focused on the newborn kits before him. His heart was swelling with affection, even if they weren’t his, but he knew that he would protect them from danger just as their parents would. It was his duty as a warrior, as a Clanmate; a member of ThunderClan.

It’s what a leader would do.

“They’re beautiful.” He mewed, touching noses with Ferncloud in greeting. “Have you chosen names for them yet?”

Ferncloud nodded her head, blinking drowsily up at him. “Yes: Birchkit, Hollykit, and Larchkit.” She nuzzled each kit gently as she spoke, causing them to mewl and squirm further into her belly fur.

“And I got to name them.” Squirrelpaw proclaimed, puffing her chest out like naming newborn kits was some sort of grand achievement.

“Wow. Congratulations.” Brambleclaw said dryly, not a hint of care in his voice.

“Brambleclaw.” Came a familiar scolding tone. With a wince, Brambleclaw turned his head to his mother, Goldenflower. The old queen was laying in a large nest across the den, eyeing him crossly. “Be nice.” She mewed sternly. Brambleclaw dropped his shoulders in submission.

“Yes, Ma.” He heard Squirrelpaw giggle at him, and he shot her a warning glare, baring his teeth in the beginning of a snarl. But before he could retort something nasty to her, he saw Goldenflower rise from her place of rest and pad over to him. She brushed up against him, purring soothingly. Brambleclaw leaned into his mother’s warm pelt, his irritation fading away.

“They’re strong, healthy kits, too. StarClan has truly blessed you.” Goldenflower purred, dipping her head at Ferncloud and Dustpelt.

“And they’re lucky to have you to help look after them.” Brambleclaw meowed, lightly butting his mother on the shoulder playfully. 

“Well I didn’t do too bad of a job with you.” Goldenflower teased, but her eyes were shining with pride. 

“When I’m grown up, I want to have kits, too. Lots of them! And we’ll play together and I’ll teach them all sorts of battle moves and hunting techniques, and maybe they’ll even become future leaders and medicine cats!” Squirrelpaw described gleefully. 

“That’s wonderful, dear.” Goldenflower purred in amusement. “Sounds like you’ll be a splendid mother.” 

“Well that’ll be a long time coming if you don’t get your hyperactivity under control.” Dustpelt meowed gruffly, getting back to his default personality. “Having kits isn’t just all fun and games. They require a good deal of attention and care, especially newborns, so you shouldn’t have them until you're ready to spend the majority of your time feeding, washing, and nurturing them.”

Squirrelpaw let out a bored sigh. “Okay, Dustpelt, you don’t have to lecture me.” 

“So what’s your excuse?” Goldenflower questioned, giving her son a nudge.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You know. When am I gettin’ my grandkits?” 

“What?!” Brambleclaw was flabbergasted, his face turning bright red. “Ma, that’s embarrassing!” 

“It is not. You’re at that age now where you should be thinkin’ about startin’ a family.” 

“But- I- what- uh- that’s it! I’m done here, now.” Brambleclaw abruptly turned on his paws and stormed out the den. “I’ll bring you a piece of prey, Ma!” He called over his shoulder.

“Wait, Brambleclaw.” Said Dustpelt quickly. Brambleclaw halted and turned his head back to the older warrior. The brown tom rose from his spot beside his mate and padded up to him.

“I think I’m going to spend a few more days in the Nursery with my family, but Squirrelpaw needs someone to look after her.” Dustpelt gave him a deliberate look. A wave of dread filled Brambleclaw as he realized what Dustpelt was about to ask him.

“Uh, can’t someone else watch her? Someone with more experience… and patience..?” 

Dustpelt shook his head. “I don’t want to put more work on the other mentors, and the rest of the Clan has better things to do, and besides, Squirrelpaw likes you, and it’ll give you some practice for when you get your own apprentice. But I’m not asking you to be with her every moment of the day. Just know where she is and if she wants to go hunting or do anything in the forest go with her, and maybe you can even teach her some things. I’m sure she’ll be open to listen; I think she looks up to you in a way.”

Brambleclaw let Dustpelt’s words sink in. He did feel honored that the senior warrior was putting so much trust in him, but he just wished Squirrelpaw didn’t have to be involved.

Grudgingly, Brambleclaw caved into Dustpelt’s request, relinquishing a heavy sigh. “Okay, I’ll watch her.”

“Thank you.” Dustpelt dipped his head in gratitude and retreated back inside the den, padding past Squirrelpaw who had been eavesdropping on the conversation. She stood up with her head and tail held high, a satisfied smirk lining her face. Brambleclaw shut his eyes tight as she came over to him, bracing himself for the headache that was bound to hit him.

“So, can we go hunting now?” She purred smugly, blinking at him a feigning look of sweetness.

“Yes. We can go hunting.” Brambleclaw growled slowly.

“Yippie!” Squirrelpaw leapt up and hopped toward the camp entrance. Brambleclaw rose more sluggishly, but followed in pursuit of the excited apprentice, grumbling to himself as they both disappeared into the forest.

Chapter Text

The forest was slowly waking up as the sun climbed higher into the sky, spilling light through the open spaces in the treetops. Brambleclaw heard birdsong as he and Squirrelpaw passed by the lumber giants.

Remnants of his bizarre dream flourished in his mind—the beach, the salty waves, and most confusing of all: the talking badger. Why he had conjured such a dream was truly a mystery. He had never seen nor heard of anything like those things before. Could it have meant something? Like a message… from StarClan..? No, that was silly. Only medicine cats and leaders received communication from the ancestors. He had probably just had too much fresh-kill before he slept. His dream had meant nothing.

Then why do I still feel so conflicted?

Brambleclaw was pulled from his thoughts as his ears were penetrated by an obnoxious sniff. His eyes landed on Squirrelpaw in front of him as she was searching for the scent of prey. He began to search as well, getting lower to the ground and swiveling his head around to catch a trace of something.

“Brambleclaw,” Squirrelpaw suddenly whispered, “I think I smell something.” Brambleclaw paused his efforts and padded over to her. He sniffed in the direction she pointed her nose to, and was welcomed by the delectable, warm prey smell of vole. His belly rumbled again, a little too loudly, and he faked a cough, trying to hide it.

“I heard that.” Squirrelpaw meowed smugly. Brambleclaw gave her a snort, then crouched down, stalking into the bushes. She followed closely.

There.

Brambleclaw halted as he spotted the vole, rummaging around through the undergrowth. Squirrelpaw stopped behind him and squeezed in next to him.

“On the count of three, I’ll leap out and snag it.” He whispered to her.

“What? Why you? I can catch that vole just as well. And besides, I’m the one who suggested we go hunting.” Squirrelpaw hissed back.

Brambleclaw huffed at her. “I thought you said you weren’t going to be difficult.” Squirrelpaw narrowed her eyes at him.

He rolled his own and drew his attention back on the vole. He bunched up his muscles and started counting.

“One. Two. Three.” But before he could pounce, Squirrelpaw sprang out of the bush, landed directly on the vole before it could even turn its head, and bit it hard on the neck, killing it. Brambleclaw stood up out of the foliage and stared at her dumbly for a moment.

Then the rage hit him.

“Squirrelpaw, why did you do that? I told you I was going to catch it!”

Squirrelpaw jumped up stiffly, her fur bristling. “Why does it matter so much who catches the vole? It got caught, and that’s the end of it.”

“It matters because I told you I would catch it, and then you deliberately disobeyed what I said.” Brambleclaw snarled.

Squirrelpaw’s eyes grew incredulous. “Disobeyed?! What am I, your prisoner?” She screeched.

Brambleclaw was taken aback. “N-no. I don’t think that. It’s just that I’m-”

“Then quit acting like I am.” She demanded, stamping her single white paw. “You’re no better than me.” She batted the vole so it skidded to Brambleclaw’s paws, then turned and stalked away.

Brambleclaw looked down at the tiny creature, focusing on the droplets of blood dotting its ruffled fur. She was right: he wasn’t any better than her… he was much worse.

He bent down and collected the vole, then padded after the apprentice.

His mind whirled in an emotional frenzy, and another wave of anger washed over him. Squirrelpaw had done this to herself. He made it very clear he never wanted to be around her, but the young molly apparently didn’t comprehend the concept of listening. Brambleclaw mentally sighed, shame twisting his belly. No, he should be grateful that at least some-cat still wanted to be in his company, even if he didn’t fully understand why. It was better than loneliness, and that was something he understood all too well.

He continued to follow Squirrelpaw in complete silence, trailing a few fox-lengths behind. As he walked, however, a new scent suddenly came to him—a foul, musty odor—and his blood froze solid.

He stopped dead in his tracks, then tentatively called out to Squirrelpaw.

“Squirrelpaw.” He mumbled around the fur in his mouth. “Squirrelpaw, stop.”

The molly’s ears pricked up, and she looked back at him, though her expression was one of displeasure.

“What?” She growled.

Brambleclaw dropped the vole. “I think I just smelt a badger.” Squirrelpaw’s face paled.

“R-really? Is it close?” She mewed meekly, a response that honesty surprised Brambleclaw, and it dawned on him just how young she really was. It had only been three moons since she was a kit, spending her days in the Nursery safely snuggled in a feather-down nest with her mother and sister. That same protective instinct he had felt earlier with Ferncloud’s kits surged within him again, and Dustpelt’s words rang in his ears.

Look out for her.

“No. The scent’s stale, so it’s been a while since it came through here.” He purred delicately, trying to ease away the fear dancing in the apprentice’s gaze.

It seemed to have worked, because Squirrelpaw then straightened up, her tail flying high, and bounded past him, supposedly having recovered her courage.

“Let’s go look for it!” She exclaimed.

Brambleclaw shook his head in disappointment, tightening his lips to keep from shouting at her. “No. We need to go back to camp and tell Firestar about it. He’ll know what to do.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Squirrelpaw, have you ever seen a badger?!” The words exploded from his mouth before he could stop them, and Squirrelpaw actually seemed shocked by his outburst.

“No, but Dustpelt told me of them.”

“Then you know how dangerous they are.” He pressed.

“Yes… well it’s not like I’d be doing it alone. I bet if we went together we could take it on, and don’t you think the Clan would celebrate us if we chased it out ourselves? They’d brag about us for moons!”

“That doesn’t matter. We’re not going to needlessly risk our lives just to get into the Clan’s good graces.” As he said that, Brambleclaw was reminded of his older brother, Swiftpaw, causing deeply buried grief and sorrow to abruptly unearth itself. The black-golden-and-white tom had died in a similar way, going claw to claw with a pack of vicious dogs that had sheltered at Snakerocks many moons ago to save Brightheart and prove himself to Bluestar, who refused to make him a warrior on account that his mentor, Longtail, had once been a follower of Tigerstar, as well as Swiftpaw having been raised as Tigerstar’s son.

While Swiftpaw was praised for his bravery, being remembered as a hero in the Clan, and Brambleclaw was proud he had died like the warrior he deserved to be, he couldn’t help but also feel angry at his brother for letting Bluestar get to him and throw his life away when he had had a family—younger siblings—who looked up to him, who needed him. But then Brambleclaw thought of his own desire to fit in, to prove that he was worthy of being in ThunderClan and was nothing like his father, and in that regard he understood his brother a little better, but the pain of losing him was still not something he could easily forget.

“Um, are you okay?” Squirrelpaw’s concerned mew broke through his mourning.

“Huh? Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” He shook himself of his distracting thoughts, then turned to pad away. “Come on, let’s go.”

Squirrelpaw huffed an exasperated sigh. “Fine, but do you have to be so bossy about it..? Bossyclaw.” She sneered.

“Very mature.” Brambleclaw meowed dryly, not one bit amused. He passed by the hunted vole he had dropped, and pointed a paw to it. “Want to carry that back?” He asked Squirrelpaw as she sauntered up to him.

She picked it up in her small jaws, side-eyeing him as she padded past. Brambleclaw let out a groan, then followed after her.

Another moment of silence passed between the Clanmates.

“…I wasn’t trying to be bossy, by the way.” Brambleclaw spoke up, feeling discouraged that Squirrelpaw had thought all he was attempting to do was boss her around. “I was only trying to look out for you. I know you don’t like to hear it, but I am a warrior, and as such it’s my responsibility to protect you, even if you don’t think you need protecting.” He casted a fleeting glance at her. She did not respond.

Finally returning to camp, Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw both headed for the prey-pile. Squirrelpaw placed the vole neatly atop the heap of fresh-kill, then padded back to Brambleclaw who was standing a few tail-lengths away.

“Okay, I’ll find Firestar and let him know about the badger.” He was saying as she came up to him, something that immediately put a kink in her tail.

“What, no! I want to tell him!” She protested.

“Do you always have to argue with me?”

“Yes, because everything you say is dumb.”

Brambleclaw felt his eye twitch. “Well I’m the one who smelt it.” He snarled.

“Well maybe you were just smelling yourself.”

Brambleclaw’s anger boiled over.

“I’m telling him!”

“No, I am!”

“No, I am!”

“I am!”

“I am!”

“Telling who what?”

The disgruntled pair snapped their heads to be met with Firestar’s confused stare.

“Firestar!” They shouted in startled unison.

“Firestar,” Brambleclaw started, side-stepping Squirrelpaw before she could rattle off, feeling her vengeful glare dig into him. “I wanted to tell you that I scented a badger while we were out hunting.”

Firestar’s eyes grew wide. “Really? How strong was the scent?”

“Not too strong. It might’ve just been passing through, but I still thought it was worth bringing up to you.”

“Yes, thank you. We’ll have to keep an eye on that just to be sure. We don’t want to have a badger problem on our paws.”

Brambleclaw nodded in agreement. He remembered an incident some seasons ago when he was first made a warrior, where Willowpelt, the late deputy Whitestorm’s mate, had been slain by a badger, leaving her three newly apprenticed kits at the time—Rainpaw, Sootpaw, and Sorrelpaw—motherless. It had been one of many tragic days in ThunderClan history.

“Maybe you could send a patrol out to double-check the territory, especially at Snakerocks. If it is still in ThunderClan, it could be hiding there like the dogs did.”

He saw a shiver pass through Firestar at the mention of the brutish animals. “Yes, that is a good idea.”

Brambleclaw felt giddy with delight that his leader had liked his suggestion. “And I can lead it if you want.” He offered, grinning brightly.

However, Firestar shook his head. “No, I think I’ll have Sootfur lead it. He’s more experienced with dealing with badgers. But thank you, anyway.”

“Yeah, of course. No problem.” Brambleclaw’s heart sank at the rejection, a mix of envy and anger weighing in his chest at being passed over for a younger warrior. But he supposed Firestar’s decision was better; Sootfur had been there when his mother was attacked, helping to fight off the fiend, unfortunately to no avail.

Seeming to have noticed his former apprentice’s dejection, Firestar chuckled warmly. “Don’t worry. You can still be on the patrol.” Brambleclaw’s spirits lifted slightly.

“Can I go too?” Squirrelpaw blurted, leaping forward.

Her father turned to her with a straight face. “No.”

“What? But Daddy-”

“No, and that’s final.” Firestar asserted, a bit more aggressively than Brambleclaw would’ve expected from the cool-headed tom.

“Well why does Brambleclaw get to go?” Squirrelpaw demanded.

“Because he’s a warrior with full combat training and you are not. And he’s far less likely to do something extremely reckless.”

“That’s not fair! I bet you took him on dangerous patrols when he was your apprentice!”

“Only when he was ready for them, and one day you will be, too. But not now. Not until Dustpelt and I deem you have had enough training to start participating in more rigorous patrols.”

Before Squirrelpaw could say anything more, Firestar stormed away, disappearing into the Warriors’ Den.

Squirrelpaw unleashed a frustrated scream. “He never lets me do anything!”

Brambleclaw couldn’t help himself from snorting a laugh.

Squirrelpaw rounded on him. “You think that’s funny, huh?!”

“Oh no, no. Of course not.” He teased, trying to keep his bearing. “I would never find amusement in you getting humiliated by your own father…” He snickered, then broke out into a laughing fit.

Squirrelpaw’s face flushed in embarrassed fury. “You’re such a self-righteous fox-heart! You really do think you’re better than everyone else!”

Brambleclaw abruptly cut his laughter. “I already told you I don’t think that!”

The ginger apprentice stuck her nose up at him. “Well you’re not doing a very good job at proving it.”

“Firestar’s right about you, you know!” The tabby roared, officially done with the molly’s aggravating comments. “You never listen, and you never think before you act! You just do whatever you please because you think there will be no consequences. Well sorry princess, but that’s not how it works, and you’re never going to be a warrior until you learn that!”

“Brambleclaw-”

“What?!”

Firestar flinched back, a genuine and sickening fear glazing his emerald eyes. Brambleclaw’s heart dropped into his belly.

“Firestar! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize it was you!”

The noble leader steadily regained his composure, leveling his gaze with the dark tabby. “Maybe you shouldn’t go on this patrol after all.” He meowed calmly.

“What? No! I’m sorry! I just lost my temper, but I’m okay now! I promise I-”

Firestar raised his tail for silence. “You’ve been out of camp all morning. Some rest will do you good.”

Brambleclaw opened his mouth to argue, but wisely thought better of it. Instead, he hung his head. “Yes, Firestar.”

“Haha.” Came Squirrelpaw’s taunting mew.

Brambleclaw saw red.

“Do you want a fight? Cause that’s what you’re about to get!”

“No! There will be no fighting!”

“Bring it on!” Squirrelpaw unsheathed her paws and crouched down, ready to pounce.

Brambleclaw did the same, and the cruelest insult he could imagine in that quick moment manifested in his mind.

“You stupid furball!”

Squirrelpaw’s head shot up, her ears back and eyes round moons. Her claws retracted, and her fluffy tail deflated to half its size as it drooped down. Brambleclaw stared at her for a moment, still growling defensively, until he noticed a shimmer in her emerald gaze.

A lone tear rolled down her face.

Horror engulfed him as the sinking realization of what he had done soaked into him.

I just made her cry.

“That is enough!” Firestar shouted, his fur bristling in fury. “I am tired of you two constantly being at each other’s throats!” He snapped his harsh gaze to his daughter. “Squirrelpaw, go clear the elders’ of their ticks!”

She tore her eyes from the brown tabby to her father. “But-”

“Now!”

The apprentice casted a final glance at the broad-shouldered tom, her eyes still sparkling with moisture, then ran off to the Medicine Cats’ Den, vanishing into the shaded cleft.

Brambleclaw looked down at his paws, feeling as though the world was spinning around him.

“And you…”

He looked back up to meet Firestar’s angered glare. The older tom flicked his tail in the direction of the Warriors’ Den, and Brambleclaw trudged toward it, having no energy to protest.

He collapsed into his nest, wiggling in deep and bringing his tail in close for comfort. His throat was dry and nose wet as tears of his own threatened to pour out like a flooded river. He felt sick, his belly knotting in guilt and disgust of himself.

“What is wrong with me?” He whimpered before he lost all control. He buried his head under his paws as he sobbed into his moss bedding, the rest of the world being drowned out completely.

It was a little past sunhigh when Brambleclaw had calmed down enough to remove his head from its hiding place. He sniffled a few times and wiped away his remaining tears. Then he gingerly stood up, shaking out his pelt and heading for the den entrance. He poked his head outside it, glancing around to make sure Firestar wouldn’t catch him disobeying an order. As soon as the coast was clear he made a dash for the Medicine Cats’ Den.

Just before he could tread in, however, he was suddenly blocked by a cat, her brown, mackerel tabby pelt bristling and amber eyes burning with hatred.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” She barked at him.

At the command, an anger ran through Brambleclaw that not even Squirrelpaw could cause—a power specially reserved for her older sister.

“Leafpaw, get out of the way! Last time I checked I was allowed to be in the Medicine Den.”

“Not when you’re out here making my sister cry!”

Brambleclaw took a couple steps back. “She really was crying?” He mewed, almost at a whisper.

“Yes, and she told me what you did!”

“Well I’ve come to make things right. Can I please have some mouse bile?” He presented her with a smile for added effect.

Leafpaw was not impressed.

“You really thought I was going to fall for that?! I’m not letting you anywhere near her! Now get out of here before I feed you deathberries!”

“Leafpaw!”

The apprentice stopped her tirade and whipped her head back. Her mentor, Cinderpelt, came limping forward. “What did we talk about?”

“Ugh. ‘Don’t threaten other cats with deathberry poisoning.’” The tabby drawled, not a hint of remorse in her voice.

Cinderpelt just shook her head. “How can I help you, Brambleclaw?” She purred kindly.

“I need some mouse bile, please.” He tried out another smile.

“Alright, one moment.” She hobbled over to a shelf in the rock that held her herb supply.

Brambleclaw looked down at Leafpaw smugly. “Looks like I won.”

“It also looks like you’ve been eating way too much prey, lately.”

Offended and greatly embarrassed, Brambleclaw sat down in a pout, placing his paws in front of his belly now that he was made self-conscious.

“You’re the worst.” He mumbled.

This pleased Leafpaw.

Cinderpelt finally returned with a stick dripping with mouse bile and placed it at his paws. “Is that enough?” She asked with eyes shining of an eagerness to help.

“Yes, that’s perfect! Thank you.” He stood up and bent to pick up the stick, wrinkling his nose at the foul stench it possessed.

“You better apologize to her.” Leafpaw reclaimed her condemning speech as she followed him out the den. “Because if you don’t, I’m being serious about the deathberries.”

Brambleclaw nervously gulped, but powered forward, flicking his tail at Leafpaw to stop following him.

He padded up to the Elders’ Den. He could hear a conversation happening inside, so he halted by the entrance, pricking up an ear to better listen in.

“…and then, he called me ‘a stupid furball.’” Came a choked, timid mew.

Squirrelpaw. His belly tightened again in guilt.

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” Said Dappletail, Squirrelpaw’s grandmother.

“I can’t believe Brambleclaw would say such a thing! I’m going to have to remind him of his manners.” The angered meow came from Speckletail, Brambleclaw’s own grandmother.

He gulped again, mentally bracing himself for the harsh scolding he was now in for.

“Brambleclaw, get in here!” Speckletail suddenly shouted, making her grandson jump in surprise. He tentatively poked his head inside the den, then walked in.

“You could see me?” He asked through the stick between his teeth.

“Well it wasn’t exactly a good hiding spot. Now what do you have to say for yourself? And why do you have mouse bile?”

Brambleclaw dropped the stick at his paws. “I came to help.” He glanced at Squirrelpaw. The apprentice shifted uncomfortably and drew her eyes to the ground.

“And I came to apologize.” He continued. This regained Squirrelpaw’s attention, but her face hardened in distrust.

“Oh, the Great Brambleclaw is going to admit to me that he was wrong… fat chance! Firestar probably told you to so you won’t even mean it.”

“No, he didn’t tell me to do any of this. In fact, he told me to go to my nest, but I felt really bad about what I said to you, and… I’m sorry I hurt you.” He lowered his head as his voice started to shake, warmth flooding his face as hot tears began to pool once again.

“Okay, alright, you don’t have to cry about it.” Squirrelpaw meowed lightly, her gaze softening. “I forgive you.”

“Thanks.” Brambleclaw sniffed, meeting her eyes with a sparkle of gratitude.

“You’re really gonna help?” She asked hopefully.

“Yeah.”

“Well then you can start with me.” Said Speckletail. “I’ve got this tick on my side that’s been bothering me for days now.”

“Sure thing, Grams.” Brambleclaw retrieved the stick of mouse bile once more and padded to his grandmother. He sat beside her and began to gently part her fur, locating the blood-sucking parasite. He rubbed the bile against it and watched as it unlatched itself, its bloated body falling to the ground. He crushed it under his paw, then looked to Speckletail. She beamed at him an appreciative smile.

As the sun was beginning to set, Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw had finished clearing the elders of their ticks, and were now listening intently to a story Longtail was weaving of his fight with Firestar when the Clan leader had first come to ThunderClan.

Squirrelpaw nibbled a vole, the one she had caught earlier, as the elder spoke. Gulping down a morsel, she nosed the prey toward the tabby beside her.

“Want some?” She whispered invitingly. Brambleclaw nodded and dove in, making Squirrelpaw laugh.

“Hey! I said some, not all of it.”

They both turned their heads as they heard some-cat entering the den.

“Squirrelpaw, I wanted to apologize-” Firestar cut himself off as his eyes landed on Brambleclaw. “I thought I told you to stay in the Warriors’ Den!”

Brambleclaw jumped up instantly. “Yes, Firestar, you did, but-”

“So now you’re disobeying me? Didn’t I teach you anything?”

“Daddy, stop, it’s okay.” Squirrelpaw leapt up herself and got between Brambleclaw and her father. “He came to help me with the elders.”

The anger in Firestar’s eyes faded rapidly. “Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… um… that was… very kind of you.” He dipped his head at the dark tabby, though looked away out of shame. “But seriously.” He flicked his tail for the second time in the foreboding direction of the Warriors’ Den.

“Yes, Firestar.” Brambleclaw slowly walked away, sad he had to go after actually having a good time with Squirrelpaw, but wouldn’t dare disregard Firestar’s orders any further.

“Good night, Squirrelpaw.” He mewed as he edged the entrance, then padded through and toward the Warriors’ Den.

“Wait, Brambleclaw.” Firestar called. Brambleclaw looked back as the ginger tom was bounding up to him.

“Thank you for helping Squirrelpaw with the elders.” He mewed. “I’m proud that you were able to put aside your differences and lend her a paw.”

“It was no problem. I just felt really bad about what I said to her… I made her cry.”

“Well, I don’t think she’s holding it against you any longer.” Firestar purred, his eyes warm and soothing. “Now, I know she can be a pain most of the time, but she really does want to be your friend, and it would be great if you could promise me that you’ll try to get along with her better from now on. Can I ask that of you?”

Brambleclaw nodded.

Firestar gave him a tender smile. “Good.” He rasped his tongue over Brambleclaw’s ear. “Now go get some sleep.”

“I will. Good night, Firestar.”

“Good night, Brambles.” As Firestar retreated into his den, Brambleclaw did the same, curling up in his nest and falling into a deep, peaceful slumber.

Chapter Text

Leaves rustled as Brambleclaw slid through a gap between two bushes, his jaws wide open to drink in the scent of prey. Veiled by the black of night, he had managed to escape the camp without drawing Squirrelpaw’s attention this time, and so was taking the opportunity to hunt in peace.

This warm night in late greenleaf was full of the scuffles of tiny creatures. Movements twitched endlessly at the edge of his vision, but when he turned his head he could see nothing but thick clumps of fern and bramble, dappled with moonlight.

He stepped out into a wide clearing and was instantly taken aback, gazing around in bemusement. He could not recall being in this part of the forest before. Smooth-cropped grass, glowing silver in a cold wash of moonlight, stretched in front of him as far as a softly rounded rock where another cat was sitting. Starlight sparkled in her blue-gray fur, and her eyes were like two small moons.

The young tabby’s bewilderment increased as he registered the molly before him. “Bluestar?” He meowed, his voice shrill with disbelief.

Brambleclaw had still been a kit when the great leader of ThunderClan had given her life by leaping into the gorge with the pack of blood-hungry dogs after her to save her deputy and Clan. Like all of ThunderClan, he had grieved and honored her sacrifice, but he’d never thought to see her again, and he realized finally that he must be dreaming once more.

“Come closer, young warrior.” Bluestar meowed mysteriously. “I have a message for you.”

Shivering with awe, Brambleclaw crept across the shining stretch of turf until he crouched below the rock and could look up into Bluestar’s glittering eyes.

“I’m listening, Bluestar.” He mewed breathlessly, still entranced by the interaction.

“A time of trouble is coming to the forest.” She told him. “A new prophecy must be fulfilled if the Clans are to survive. You have been chosen to meet with three other cats at the new moon, and you must listen to what midnight tells you.”

“What do you mean?” Brambleclaw felt a prickle of dread, cold as snowmelt, slip down his spine. “What kind of trouble? And how can midnight tell us anything?”

“All will become clear to you soon.” Bluestar replied vaguely. Her voice faded, echoing strangely as if she were speaking from a cavern far beneath the earth. The moonlight also began to dim, leaving thick, black shadows to creep out of the trees around them.

“No, wait!” Brambleclaw cried out. “Don’t go!” He let out a terrified yowl, thrashing his paws and tail as darkness rose up and engulfed him.

Then his eyes flew open, and he was staring up at the leafy ceiling of the Warriors’ Den. He gulped down a breath of air as he attempted to calm his thudding heart, and rolled over so his belly laid on his moss bedding like it had when he’d initially gone to sleep.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dustpelt, who had now returned to his warrior duties, snarled from the other side of the den, his eyes only halfway open. “Can’t you keep quiet and let the rest of us sleep?”

“Sorry.” Brambleclaw muttered as he sat up, beginning to groom the bits of moss out of his fur that had clung onto him in his restlessness. “I was just dreaming.”

“Dreaming!” Grunted a voice. Brambleclaw turned his head to see Cloudtail heave himself from his mossy nest nearby and give a long stretch. “Honestly, you’re just as bad as Firestar.” The white warrior spat. “When he slept in here he was always muttering and twitching in his sleep. A cat couldn’t get a good night’s rest for all the prey in the forest.”

Brambleclaw twitched his ears at hearing how disrespectfully Cloudtail spoke of their Clan leader, even if the brash tom was Firestar’s kin and former apprentice, but a sense of pride also swelled within him at being compared to the courageous leader of ThunderClan. However, the thought quickly turned sour as he was reminded of his dream.

Was that truly just a dream, or was Bluestar’s message real? And if it was, why would she choose me of all cats to be a part of it? Why not Firestar or Cinderpelt? They’re much better options, especially Firestar. I’m nothing compared to him.

As Brambleclaw stewed in his degrading thoughts, he didn’t notice that the other warriors were arising and exiting the den, or that the Clan deputy, Graystripe, had padded up to him and was trying to get his attention.

“Brambleclaw!” The gray tom shouted, slight agitation in his voice. Brambleclaw was jolted out of his distress and snapped his head toward the deputy. The frustration in Graystripe’s eyes immediately became concern, and he placed the tip of his tail on the younger warrior’s shoulder.

“Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah, everything’s fine.” Brambleclaw mewed, cringing at the shaking of his words. Graystripe blinked worriedly at him, clearly not believing the tabby’s claim to a stable well-being.

“Maybe some food in your belly will make you feel better. Go get a piece of prey. You can go hunting later.”

“Really? Thank you, Graystripe.” Brambleclaw appreciatively bounded out of the den, realizing just how hungry he was. He padded over to the fresh-kill pile, and picked out a plump shrew. He turned and headed toward the forest, where he usually ate his meals. He enjoyed the quiet and relaxation he found out there, where he could be at peace and not have to worry about what any-cat believed of him. Still, he simultaneously longed for a friend; someone who would listen and understand his problems, because being isolated with only his thoughts for company regularly served as more of a depressant than a comfort.

As he wriggled through the prickly entrance to the camp, he spotted a small, black shape slip in on the other side. Brambleclaw dropped his prey and spun around quickly, his muscles tensing as they prepared themselves to attack the intruder. But he stopped himself short of diving headfirst into the course thicket when the scent of the creature came to his nose—a warm hay smell. Brambleclaw let his body loosen and his claws sheath, exhaling a chagrined sigh, then calmly entered back through the brambles.

When he reappeared, Brambleclaw was glad to see that he was right to halt his overreaction, as the trespasser was only Ravenpaw, a former member of the Clan who now lived his days as a barn cat with his mate, Barley.

Ravenpaw was quickly greeted by the Clan, one of which was Leafpaw. She padded up to the sleek black tom, a glow of curiosity in her eyes.

“Hello, Ravenpaw.” She dipped her head courteously. “What brings you here?”

Ravenpaw shifted nervously. “Hi… it’s Leafpaw, isn’t it? I just wanted to talk to Firestar about something that’s been concerning me lately. Do you know where he is?”

Brambleclaw briefly wondered what could be so troubling that Ravenpaw had felt driven to come all this way to tell Firestar about it, but paused when his question was openly voiced by Leafpaw.

“Sure, I can go get him, but what is it that has been so-” She was interrupted by a cheerful yowl.

“Uncle Ravenpaw!” Shrewpaw bounded over to his visiting kin with Whitepaw beside him.

Brambleclaw watched Leafpaw back away shyly as the other apprentices jumped in front of her.
She flattened her ears in annoyance, then left to presumably go find her father. Brambleclaw reflected that, aside from Squirrelpaw, Leafpaw had never been especially close with her peers. He involuntarily directed a twinge of empathy toward her, which he swiftly covered up with detest.

Ferncloud’s kits, who had been preoccupied with a beetle, abandoned their game and scuttled after the apprentices.

The biggest of the three kits skidded to a stop in front of Ravenpaw and took an enormous sniff. “New cat.” She growled. “New scent.”

The loner dipped his head in greeting, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth in amusement.

“Hollykit, this is our Uncle Ravenpaw.” Shrewpaw told her. “He lives on a Twoleg farm, and feasts on more mice than you three have seen in your life!”

Hollykit’s amber eyes grew huge. “Every day?”

“That’s right.” Whitepaw put in solemnly. “Every day.”

“I want to go there!” The little pale brown kit mewed. “Can we? Now?”

“When you’re bigger, Birchkit.” Ferncloud promised, coming up to join them. “Welcome, Ravenpaw. It’s good to- Hollykit! Larchkit! Stop that at once!”

The two molly kits had pounced on Ravenpaw’s twitching tail, and were batting at it with outstretched paws. Ravenpaw winced. “Don’t do that, little kits.” He scolded gently. “It’s my tail, not a mouse.”

“I’m sorry, Ravenpaw.” Meowed Ferncloud softly. “They haven’t learned how to behave properly yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ravenpaw replied with a smile, though he drew his tail closely against his side out of harm’s way. “Kits will be kits.”

“And these particular kits have been out for long enough.” Ferncloud swished her tail around to gather the three kits together and herded them back toward the Nursery. “Say good-bye to your uncle now.”

The kits mewed good-bye and scampered off.

“Can we do anything for you, Ravenpaw?” Whitepaw asked politely. “Would you like some fresh-kill?”

“No, I ate before I left home, thank you.” The black cat replied. “I’ve come to see Firestar. Is he around?”

“I think he’s in his den.” Shrewpaw told him. “Shall I take you there?”

“There’s no need for that.” Came Firestar’s strong mew. All three cats whipped around to find the regal tom standing there, his tail held high and a bright grin displayed on his face.

“Ravenpaw, I’m so happy to see you.” The ginger tom padded up to his old friend and pressed his nose against Ravenpaw’s.

“Firestar! It’s good to see you too.” Ravenpaw purred.

“Leafpaw said you needed to talk to me.” Firestar mewed, his smile fading. “Is everything alright?”

Ravenpaw’s whiskers twitched nervously. “Well, I think so. It’s just, I’ve been noticing the Twolegs doing strange things, and I wanted to talk with you about it to make sure nothing serious is going on.”

Firestar looked down in a moment of thought, then raised his head when he realized there were still cats sitting around them, listening to their conversation in intrigue.

“Come. We’ll discuss this in my den.” He flicked his tail and led Ravenpaw away.

Brambleclaw watched them leave, a desperate desire to be in on the discussion eating at him.

Shrewpaw and Whitepaw also departed to go over to their mentors, and Brambleclaw reluctantly turned to pad back toward the camp entrance to retrieve his dropped prey that was hopefully still where he’d left it. But he couldn’t shake his curiosity away, and so he stopped short of the tunnel and ran over to Firestar’s den.

Knowing he would be in trouble if he was caught, he silently slipped up to the side of the Highrock, wiggling in behind some rocks to hide himself from any observate Clanmates, then pressed his ear against the cold stone to try and listen in on the anxious conversation Firestar was having with Ravenpaw, but all he could make out was unintelligible murmuring.

Brambleclaw mashed his body further against the rock in an attempt to pull out any ounce of dialogue. Just then, he heard a voice whispering to him.

“Whatcha doing?” Asked the cheeky molly. Brambleclaw was so focused on his current task however that he dismissed her without a second thought.

“Shhh. Be quiet, I’m spying.” Then realization struck him.

“Ahhh!” He jumped up frantically to be met with a riot of laughter. Brambleclaw’s pelt became hot with anger and embarrassment.

“Squirrelpaw!” He shouted. “What are you doing?” The annoying ginger leapt down from the rocks to land in front of him.

“I asked you first.” She said with a smile bright with humor. “We were playing hide-and-go-seek last moon.”

“Well it's not like I agreed to play that game with you in the first place.” Brambleclaw growled. Squirrelpaw huffed and plopped her rump onto the ground.

“So, why were you spying?” She purred slyly, arching her brows like she often did when she’s gotten him cornered in one of his schemes, and his only options were to lie or tell her the truth.

“It’s none of your business!” Brambleclaw blew up at her. Squirrelpaw became rigid in her own fury.

“It is too my business!” She yowled, jumping back up and fluffing out her tail in the process. “It’s my father you’re spying on!”

Brambleclaw was about to yell back at her when he was interrupted by a stern voice.

“What’s going on out here?” Said Firestar as he emerged from his den. He instantly caught sight of the warring cats, and his face filled with weariness and annoyance. “What’s the problem this time?”

Squirrelpaw spun around immediately. “Brambleclaw was spying on you!” She tattled.

Firestar raised a brow. “Oh was he now?” He shifted his gaze to the young tabby, his green eyes shimmering with disapproval. Brambleclaw shrunk under the harshness of Firestar’s stare, feeling as though he was the brave warrior’s apprentice again and was being scolded for misbehavior.

“Ooo, you’re in trouble.” Squirrelpaw sang. Brambleclaw shot her an angered glare.

“Squirrelpaw,” Firestar cut in curtly, making Squirrelpaw jump, “I think I just saw Dustpelt.”

“But-” She tried to protest. Firestar raised his tail to signal his non-negotiation.

“Ugh. Fine, I’ll go.” She stood up with an attitude, flicking her tail and stalking over to her mentor.

Watching his daughter leave, Firestar let out a deep sigh. “You know, I was really hoping that after helping her with the elders the other day, there would be no more fighting between you two.” He looked into Brambleclaw’s gaze. “Especially when someone promised me he would try getting along with her better.” He narrowed his eyes at his former apprentice, and Brambleclaw lowered his head further.

Seeing how deflated Brambleclaw was, Firestar eased off his irritation. “Feeling a little nosy today, were you?” He mewed lightly. Brambleclaw still couldn’t meet his eyes.

Firestar sighed again, then a small smile crossed his face. “Come on in then.”

Brambleclaw lifted his head in surprise. “Really?”

Firestar looked back at him. “Might as well, since you’re so interested.”

Brambleclaw beamed and leapt up, rushing after Firestar into the Leaders’ Den.

When the pair entered, Ravenpaw greeted them with worried eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s been sorted out, now.” Firestar reassured him as he sat down. “Oh, do you mind if Brambleclaw joins us? He just couldn’t contain his curiosity.”

Ravenpaw eyed the large tabby for a moment, an unidentified emotion glossing his gaze. Brambleclaw shifted uncomfortably at the look the dark tom was giving him. It was almost akin to fear.

“No, I don’t mind.” Ravenpaw said at last, though it was close to a whisper.

“Good. Then you may continue with your recount.” Firestar meowed, prompting his friend with a slight nod.

“R-right. As I was saying, I’ve been noticing the Twolegs behaving strangely, more so than usual. There are far more of them on the Thunderpath than before, walking along the edge with shiny, bright-colored pelts. And they have new kinds of monsters—huge ones!”

Brambleclaw felt the fur on the back of his neck rise in shock and anxiety at hearing Ravenpaw’s words. He casted a glance at Firestar to see the reaction of his leader to the news, but the other tom remained stoic.

“Twolegs are always doing strange things,” Firestar said matter-of-factly, “and I have heard nothing from my warriors nor noticed anything myself of this behavior. I’m grateful that you came all this way to tell us, but I really don’t think it’s got anything to do with us.”

Ravenpaw looked uneasy. “I know Twolegs often act without reason, but I’ve never seen anything like this! There just has to be something going on. But if you haven’t seen anything, then maybe I’m just speaking nonsense.”

“No, not at all.” Firestar defended. “If it worries you that much, then it is worthwhile to check out. I trust your judgment. Tell you what…” He paused to press his muzzle affectionately against Ravenpaw’s side as he began to exit the den. “I’ll tell the patrols to keep their eyes open for anything unusual.”

Ravenpaw stood up to follow Firestar, twitching the fur on his shoulders. “I suppose that’s all you can do.”

Brambleclaw also rose to his paws and followed after the elder toms.

“And you could drop in on WindClan on your way home.” Firestar suggested. “They’re closer than we are to that part of the Thunderpath, so Tallstar ought to know if something strange is going on.”

“Yes, Firestar, I’ll do that.”

“Wait a moment, I’ve got a better idea.” Meowed Firestar, stopping short with the force of his revelation. “Why don’t I come with you part of the way? I could take a patrol up to Fourtrees at the same time. Stay there, and I’ll fetch Graystripe and Sandstorm.” He bounded off into the Warriors’ Den without waiting for Ravenpaw to reply.

When the Clan leader had gone, Ravenpaw turned to face Brambleclaw. “Sorry, I didn’t get a chance to say hi to you.” He meowed timidly. “How are you? How’s the prey running?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine.” Brambleclaw responded inattentively, his mind having begun to drift as he thought of what Ravenpaw had said and his odd dreams surrounding Bluestar’s message and the saltwater lake.

Are the Clans truly in trouble?

“A-are you sure? You seem distracted.” Ravenpaw’s concerned mew broke through Brambleclaw’s thoughts.

“Yeah. I just… had a confusing dream this morning and it won’t stop bugging me.” He explained.

Ravenpaw’s eyes turned sympathetic. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No, it’s alright. It was probably just something I ate.” Brambleclaw murmured, but he couldn’t shake the eeriness of his dream and the words Bluestar had meowed as they echoed in his head, and suddenly he found himself spilling the contents of his vision to Ravenpaw: the starry forest, Bluestar’s appearance, and the peculiar but dreadful prophecy he was supposedly a part of.

“I don’t know why it’s gotten to me like this. It’s not like I don’t have anything else to think about.” He added grimly.

To his surprise, Ravenpaw did not leap in to agree that Brambleclaw had conjured a ridiculous dream and that Bluestar had not in fact visited him and relayed to him a grave prophecy. Instead, the black cat was silent for a long time, his eyes clouded with thought.

“You know, this isn’t the first time the fate of the Clans has been placed in the paws of a seemingly insignificant cat.” He meowed at last. “It happened to Firestar, too, with StarClan’s promise that fire would save the Clan, and I believe that is exactly what has happened to you.” He met Brambleclaw’s gaze steadily.

Brambleclaw swallowed down a building lump in his throat. The evidence that his dream could in fact be real didn’t do anything to boost his self-esteem, even with the knowledge that he was going down a similar path as his role model.

“I still don’t understand why they chose me!” He cried in frustration. “Why couldn’t it have been Firestar..? He would know what to do.” He drooped his shoulders in defeat.

Ravenpaw purred a chuckle, shocking Brambleclaw as he drew his attention back to the loner.

“You act as though Firestar has never been unsure of himself.” The black tom mewed. “When he eventually found out about the prophecy, he didn’t understand it, never realized it was about him, until Bluestar told him just before she died.”

“Really?” Brambleclaw pricked his ears up, a bit in disbelief.

“Yes.” Ravenpaw purred. “There was a time when Firestar was a young warrior just like you. He often wondered if he was making the right decisions. Oh, yes, he’s a hero now, he saved the forest, but to begin with, his task looked as impossible as yours—whatever it might be. His prophecy has been fulfilled.” He added. “Maybe it’s your time now. Remember that StarClan doesn’t like to make things obvious. They send us prophecies, but they never tell us exactly what we should do. They expect us to show courage and loyalty to achieve what has to be done, just as Firestar did.”

Brambleclaw mulled over the loner’s wise words. They actually made him feel a tad better about his situation. But there was another question in his mind itching to be heard.

“Do you think StarClan wants me to go somewhere?” He asked Ravenpaw tentatively.

“Go somewhere? Why?”

“Because… I had another dream, first. One about a huge saltwater lake surrounded by high cliffs, a cave with gaping black jaws, the sun sinking in a pool of bloodied fire, and a talking badger.”

Ravenpaw was staring at him incredulously, but his face furrowed in thought as he murmured to himself, then he looked back at Brambleclaw with a more serious expression.

“Yes, I’ve heard of this place before. It’s real, though I’ve never seen it for myself.”

“Then how do you know about it?” Brambleclaw meowed desperately, his fur standing on end.

“Rogue cats come to the Twoleg farm sometimes, when they have traveled far and are in need of shelter for the night and a spare mouse or two.” Ravenpaw explained. “Cats who live toward the place where the sun sets. They have told Barley and me about a place where there is more water than you could possibly imagine, like a river that has only one bank, and it’s too salty to drink. Every night it swallows the sun in a flash of fire, bleeding into the waves without a sound.”

Brambleclaw shivered. The loner’s words brought his dream back far too vividly for comfort. “Yes, I saw the place where the sun drowns. And the dark cave with teeth, or the badger?”

“I can’t tell you about those.” Ravenpaw admitted. “But I do think StarClan must be telling you to go there. Why else would you dream of a place you have never seen unless StarClan wanted you to know of it?”

Brambleclaw nodded in understanding of the logic the loner presented, but his belly twisted with nerves at the prospect of having to travel to an unknown place and carrying the weight of the survival of the Clans on his shoulders. However, he suddenly remembered that Bluestar had said he would be meeting with three other cats, so at least he wouldn’t have to bear the burden alone.

But who could the others be? If he, a warrior of ThunderClan, had been chosen for this quest, and there were three other cats involved, then they could potentially be members of the remaining three Clans: ShadowClan, WindClan, and RiverClan. It would only make sense that the four picked to save the Clans from prophesied destruction would be a single representative from each Clan. Satisfied with his conclusion, Brambleclaw finally allowed himself to relax.

“Well, looks like it’s time for me to go.” Ravenpaw chirped. Brambleclaw looked up to see Firestar returning with Graystripe and Sandstorm. He murmured a farewell as the black tom jumped to his paws and joined his companions, Graystripe and Sandstorm greeting him cheerfully.

As the four cats padded across the clearing and vanished into the gorse tunnel, Brambleclaw began to think again. If the dreams were true—both of them—then an enormous task lay in front of him. He had no idea how he could find the salt water, and he did not know how far away it was: farther than any forest cat had ever gone before, that was for sure.

Ravenpaw’s words echoed in his ears. Maybe it’s your time now. Had the other three cats dreamt of the sun-drown-place, too?

What if he’s right? Brambleclaw asked himself. What should I do next?

Chapter Text

The full moon rode high in the sky as Firestar led the cats from ThunderClan up the slope toward Fourtrees. Padding along just behind his Clan leader, Brambleclaw shivered with anticipation. The words of the message Bluestar had given him ran through his mind, and determination welled inside his chest. He needed to find the other recipients of the prophecy, and he had decided this would be the greatest opportunity for him to do so, begging Firestar to allow him to attend tonight’s Gathering despite his earlier squabble with Squirrelpaw, so they could meet at the new moon, and learn what midnight had to tell them… whatever that meant.

Firestar paused at the top of the slope and gazed down into the clearing. From where he stood, Brambleclaw had a good view of the four great oak trees that gave the clearing its name, and could hear the sounds of many cats as the breeze brought to him the mingled scents of ShadowClan, RiverClan, and WindClan. Memories of his first ever Gathering began to enter his mind, and he started to reminisce a bit.

He remembered the excitement rushing through him, being barely able to contain it, as he followed Firestar into the clearing. He recalled the nerves that started to prickle as he was instantly overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the clearing and the number of cats who were gathered, their mixture of smells flooding his senses. He tried to take in his surroundings, but it was difficult as he realized just how many new faces were around.

He suddenly lost Firestar in the fray, and he began to panic. But, he felt a pelt brush up against his comfortingly, and he looked to see Tawnypaw, his sister.

“Come on, Bramblepaw.” She had mewed with a grin. “Firestar went this way.” She strode forward confidently, and Bramblepaw timidly followed close beside her, thankful for her company.

That had been one of the last times Tawnypaw, now Tawnypelt, had been by his side before she decided to move to ShadowClan… and stay there. Brambleclaw missed his sister fiercely. He hoped he’d get to see her tonight.

Brambleclaw sensed someone behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see Leafpaw crouching in the undergrowth, patiently waiting for her father’s signal to move down into the clearing. She caught Brambleclaw staring at her and met his gaze. He gave her a small smile, but she only scowled at him and pompously turned her head away. Brambleclaw frowned himself, rolling his eyes and returning his attention forward.

A thought of Squirrelpaw managed to worm its way into his head, and Brambleclaw felt a surprising pang of sadness regarding the fact she hadn’t been chosen to attend the Gathering as well, even though she had also begged. But he quickly shook the feeling away, reminding himself that Squirrelpaw was an annoying know-it-all and would just distract him from his mission with her talking and teasing. Besides, she would probably be the first cat to greet him when he returned to camp.

At last Firestar raised his tail as the sign for his cats to move ahead. Brambleclaw sprang over the edge of the hollow and raced down the slope into the clearing.

The shimmering moonlight revealed a mass of cats, some already settled around the Great Rock in the center, others trotting across the clearing to greet cats they had not seen for a moon, or lying in the shelter of the bushes to gossip and share tongues. Brambleclaw swiftly slipped into the throng, immediately beginning his search for the other three prophecy cats Bluestar told him of.

He squeezed his way through the crowd, trying to spot any-cat who looked as though they were supporting the weight of a critical prophecy on their shoulders. After a few instances of him tripping over and running directly into cats, getting yelled at, and attempting to apologize, Brambleclaw spotted a familiar smoky pelt, and upon getting closer, the scent of RiverClan confirmed the cat to be Stormfur, Brambleclaw’s best friend and foster brother. The other tom was seated beside his sister, Feathertail, talking with Graystripe, their father, and the deputy of RiverClan, Mistyfoot. Elated, Brambleclaw bounded toward his friends, having missed them after not seeing them for a long while, not since the battle with BloodClan when the four of them had been apprentices. But then he glimpsed another pelt sticking out amongst the cluster of gray—a lighter brown tabby.

Brambleclaw abruptly halted as he recognized the cat to be Leafpaw, and began fidgeting anxiously with his paws. He wanted to be around his friends, but not while Leafpaw was there. It would be a different story if she was actually nice to him, but the young apprentice made it very apparent that she despised the dark tabby warrior with every ounce of her being, and Brambleclaw earnestly directed the sentiment right back at her.

After a moment of awkwardly standing in place to ponder if he should still talk to Stormfur and Feathertail or not, Brambleclaw decided against it, and turned to leave before any of the cats could notice he had been there.

Now feeling a bit defeated, he padded back through the assembly, still clinging to hope that he would find Tawnypelt.

After another round of bowling over cats, being shouted at, and trying to apologize for his lack of awareness, he came up empty-pawed. Letting out a disappointed sigh, he headed toward the Great Rock to wait for the Gathering to start.

Sitting down, he saw that two cats were already waiting on the summit. Silhouetted by the shining circle of the full moon was the leader of WindClan, Tallstar, easily recognizable by his long, black and white tail. Beside him stood Leopardstar, the strict but fair leader of RiverClan, staring impatiently at the cats below. As Brambleclaw watched, he saw Firestar leap up to join them.

“Where is Blackstar?” Leopardstar called out, flicking her tail irritably. “He should’ve been here already.”

“Hold your tongue, Leopardstar, I’m coming.” A heavy white tom with jet black paws shouldered his way through the cats not far from Brambleclaw. He crouched at the base of the rock and sprang up to land lightly beside the spotted molly.

As soon as his paws touched the rock, Leopardstar threw back her head and let out a yowl. At once the noise in the clearing died down, and every-cat turned to face the Great Rock. A couple WindClan warriors settled near Brambleclaw, but as soon as they saw him they grimaced and got up to sit somewhere else. Brambleclaw tucked his chin into his chest fur and securely wrapped his tail around himself. He hated when cats did that.

“Cats of all Clans, welcome.” Tallstar, the eldest of the Clan leaders, moved to the front of the Great Rock, raising his voice to address the gathered cats. Glancing at his fellow leaders, he asked, “Who will speak first?”

“I will.” Firestar meowed eagerly. He stepped forward, his flame-colored pelt having turned silver in the moonlight. Behind his Clan leader, Brambleclaw noticed Leopardstar rolling her eyes and Blackstar frowning at the former kittypet.

Though the pair’s annoyance with his past mentor made his fur bristle, a part of Brambleclaw was relieved he wasn’t the only one still struggling to overcome the prejudice of others, and seeing Firestar stand atop the Great Rock, glowing with assurance and pride in the face of adversity, made Brambleclaw feel a bit more confident, and he lifted his head and pricked up his ears to collect every word Firestar said.

“This is a time of great giving in ThunderClan.” Firestar stated proudly. “Prey is running well, and one of our queens, Ferncloud, has just had a new litter with her mate, Dustpelt: Birchkit, Hollykit, and Larchkit.” Firestar paused a moment to allow the excited and congratulatory murmurs of the Clans to pass.

“However,” he began again, “a badger was recently scented in our territory. But, as long as there is ample prey, it is unlikely the creature will move into another Clan, so no-cat has any need to worry.” On that note, Firestar stepped back, and Blackstar took his place.

“ShadowClan is strong and prey is plentiful.” He announced gruffly. “The heat of greenleaf has dried up part of the marshes on our territory, but we still have plenty of water to drink.”

His glance raked defiantly around the clearing, and Brambleclaw reflected that even if ShadowClan had less than a single raindrop left in their territory, Blackstar was doubtful to admit as much to the Gathering.

Tallstar flicked his tail at Leopardstar, inviting her to speak next, but she drew back, leaving him to go instead. The WindClan leader hesitated for a moment, and Brambleclaw saw that his eyes were clouded with worry.

“Blackstar spoke truly of the heat of greenleaf.” He began. “It has been many days since the forest saw rain, and the moorland streams on WindClan’s territory have been scorched away completely this last quarter moon. We have no water at all.”

“But the river borders your territory!” A cat called out from the shadows beneath the Great Rock. Craning his neck to see, Brambleclaw recognized Russetfur, the ShadowClan deputy.

“The river runs through a deep, sheer-sided gorge for the whole length of the border.” Tallstar replied. “It’s too dangerous to go down there. Warriors have tried, and Onewhisker fell, though thank StarClan he was not hurt. And our kits and elders cannot manage the climb. They are suffering badly, and I fear some may die if conditions do not improve soon.”

“Can’t your kits and elders chew grass for the moisture?” Another cat suggested.

Tallstar shook his head. “The grass is parched. I tell you, there is no water anywhere on our territory.” Turning with clear reluctance to the RiverClan leader, he meowed, “Leopardstar, in the name of StarClan I must ask that you let us come into your territory to drink from the river there.”

Leopardstar came to stand beside the elder tom, her dappled golden fur rippling in the moonlight. “The water in the river is low.” She warned. “We have not escaped the effects of this drought in my Clan.”

“But there is far more than you need.” Tallstar responded, desperation creeping into his tone.

Leopardstar nodded. “That is true.” Coming to the very edge of the rock, she looked down into the clearing and asked, “What do my warriors think? Mistyfoot?”

The RiverClan deputy rose to her paws, but before she could speak, one of her Clanmates cried out, “We can’t trust them! Let WindClan set one paw over our border and they’ll be taking our prey as well as our water!”

Brambleclaw could see the speaker: a gray tabby tom with a stiff tail, that was currently shot straight up in anger. He believed the warrior to be named Reedtail, a senior warrior of RiverClan.

Mistyfoot turned and fixed Reedtail with a clear cobalt stare. “You forget the times when RiverClan has needed help from the other Clans.” She meowed. “If they had not helped us then, we would not be here today.” To Leopardstar, she added, “I say we should allow this. We have water to spare.”

The clearing fell silent as the cats waited for Leopardstar to make her decision.

“Very well, Tallstar.” She said at last. “Your Clan may enter our territory to drink from the river just below the Twoleg bridge. But you will come no further, and you do not have leave to take any prey.”

Tallstar bowed his head, and Brambleclaw heard the relief in his voice as he replied, “Leopardstar, RiverClan has our thanks, from the oldest elder to the youngest kit. You have saved our Clan.”

“This drought will not last forever, and you will have water in your territory soon. We will discuss this again at the next Gathering.” Leopardstar meowed, her head held diplomatically.

“Let us hope that StarClan will have sent rain by then.” Tallstar meowed, stepping back to let Leopardstar address the Gathering.

“Some of you have met our apprentices, Hawkpaw and Mothpaw.” She started. “They are now warriors and will be known as Hawkfrost and Mothwing.”

The cats around Brambleclaw craned their necks to see the warriors the RiverClan leader had named, and Brambleclaw did as well, though he could not distinguish them amongst the throng. The traditional welcoming murmur for all new warriors broke out at the announcement, but to Brambleclaw’s surprise it was mingled with a few disconcerting growls who he realized were coming from RiverClan cats.

Leopardstar stared down from the rock and stilled the clamor with a flick of her tail. “Do I hear protests? Very well, I will tell you everything to stop rumors from flying once and for all.”

“Six moons ago, at the beginning of newleaf, a rogue cat came to RiverClan, with her two surviving kits. Her name was Sasha, and the birth of her kits had weakened her so much that she needed help with hunting and caring for them. For a time she thought of joining the Clan, and we would have welcomed her as a warrior, but in the end she decided the warrior code was not the way of life for her. She left us-,“ Leopardstar broke off, her voice trembling slightly. “She left us, but her kits chose to stay.” She finished more strongly, and she straightened, her austere persona returning, though her eyes were still glazed with sadness.

A flood of protests surged up from the cats around the rock. One voice rose clear above the yowling. “Rogue cats? Taken into a Clan?! Has RiverClan gone mad?”

“They are good warriors!” Mistyfoot defended from her place below the Great Rock.

Leopardstar made no attempt to quiet the uproar, only staring stonily down until it died away.

“They are strong young cats and have learned their warrior skills well.” She asserted when she could make herself heard. “They have sworn to defend their Clan at the cost of their lives, just as all of you have sworn.” With a glance at Blackstar, she added, “Were not some of ShadowClan’s warriors rogues once? I know Russetfur was.” Before he could reply, her gaze swiveled to Firestar. “And if a kittypet can become Clan leader, why should rogues not be welcome as warriors?”

Brambleclaw heard a wave of thoughtful murmurs as cats took her words into consideration, and he found himself also siding with her. Once again, he felt that familiar sting of being hated solely because of who your parents are, and his heart went out to the new warriors.

Firestar dipped his head toward Leopardstar. “That is a good point.” He agreed. “I will be glad to see these cats fulfill their promise as loyal members of their Clan.”

Leopardstar nodded in reply. His words had clearly appeased her. Then she began to speak again.

“Mothwing has chosen a special place within our Clan.” She explained. “Our medicine cat Mudfur is growing old, and the time has come for him to take on an apprentice.”

This time her voice was drowned out entirely by the holler of protests. The other three leaders drew together for an anxious conference. Tallstar was clearly unwilling to speak out after Leopardstar had agreed to give him access to the river, and in the end it was Blackstar who replied. “I completely agree that a rogue can learn enough of our code to become a warrior,” he rasped, “but a medicine cat? What if she doesn’t believe in StarClan? Will they even accept her?”

Brambleclaw felt a tingle spread through his fur, and he searched the gathered cats for Leafpaw. He spotted her a distance away, still sitting with Stormfur and Feathertail. The lithe molly was staring up at the Great Rock, and Brambleclaw was taken aback by the understanding and sympathy on her face, expressions he had not believed her to be capable of. Though he could’ve been mistaken; he didn’t have the greatest eyesight.

Voices all around the clearing echoed Blackstar’s questions. At the base of the rock, an older brown tom heaved himself to his paws and waited for silence: it was Mudfur.

“Mothwing is a talented young cat.” He meowed once the noise had died down. “But because she was born a rogue, I am waiting for a sign from StarClan that she is the right medicine cat for RiverClan. Once I have received that sign, I will take her to Mothermouth at the half-moon time. If I act without the blessing of StarClan, then you can all complain—but not until then.” He flopped back down again, his whiskers twitching irritably.

The crowd had parted so that Brambleclaw could make out the young molly beside Mudfur. She was rather large, but beautiful, possessing a pair of glowing amber eyes resting upon a slender face, and a long, golden-brown pelt equipped with tabby stripes rippling through it. A shiver went up Brambleclaw’s spine. All those traits felt incredibly uncanny.

As the Gathering drew to a close and cats began to separate back into their own Clans, Brambleclaw saw Firestar leap down from the Great Rock, and he got up to pad over to his leader. He stopped when Firestar halted in front of a young, dark tabby tom who was sitting near Mudfur.

“Congratulations, Hawkfrost.” Firestar meowed with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll make a fine warrior.”

So that’s Hawkfrost. Brambleclaw thought with interest. He studied the former rogue’s appearance, and again he felt that foreboding notion of familiarity twisting in his belly.

He reminds me of Tigerstar.

“Thank you, Firestar.” The new warrior replied. “I’ll do my best to serve my Clan.”

“I’m sure you will.” Firestar touched Hawkfrost’s shoulder with the tip of his tail in a gesture of encouragement. “Pay no attention to all the fuss. It’ll all be forgotten in a moon.”

He walked on, and Hawkfrost raised his head to look after him. Brambleclaw couldn’t quite suppress a shudder when he saw the tom’s eyes: an eerie ice blue that seemed to stare right through Firestar as if he were made of smoke.

“Great StarClan!” Brambleclaw murmured aloud. “I wouldn’t like to meet him in battle.”

“Meet who?”

Brambleclaw spun around to see Tawnypelt standing behind him, and his face lit up.

“Tawnypelt, you are here!” He exclaimed, bouncing on his paws. His sister laughed at his excitement.

“Glad to see ya too, Brambsie.” She purred. Brambleclaw flushed at the usage of her cutesy nickname for him, making Tawnypelt laugh again.

“Anyway, who were ya talkin’ about?” She asked after a moment of catching her breath.

“Hawkfrost. He looks dangerous.” Brambleclaw replied, flicking his tail in the direction of the other tom.

Tawnypelt looked behind him, stared at Hawkfrost for a moment, then returned her gaze to her brother. Shrugging, she said, “So? You’re dangerous, and I’m dangerous. We’re warriors, what did ya expect?”

“For you to be nice about it.” Brambleclaw mumbled, pouting a bit.

“Now why would I do that?” Tawnypelt said teasingly, coming up to ruffle the fur on her brother’s head. He stepped away from her, placing a paw over his head to protect it from his sister’s assaults further, giving her a scowl. Tawnypelt just snickered at him.

Brambleclaw was about to say something else to her when he saw an uncharacteristic uncertainty cross her face, and his heart began to race with worry.

“Are you okay?” He asked urgently. Tawnypelt looked up at him.

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… can I tell ya somethin’, Brambs?” She looked him square in the face, and Brambleclaw nodded immediately.

“Of course! What’s wrong?”

“Well, the other night I had this weird dream that I was sittin’ on the shore of a giant lake, and then outta nowhere a badger sat down right next to me! I jumped up, cause, ya know, it’s a badger, and I was just about to fight it when it started sayin’ somethin’. I don’t really remember, but I think it was somethin’ like, ‘There is one for you, who brings joy and life.’ I have absolutely no idea what that means and I can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

Brambleclaw’s mouth was hanging open, which seemed to concern his sister even more. “What’s the matter? Why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

Brambleclaw blinked at her. “Because I had the same dream! Well, not exactly. In my dream I got swept up by the water and dragged out deeper, and saw the badger on the shore calling out my name, but it turned out to only be Squirrelpaw because she was trying to wake me up.”

“Well your dream sounds a lot more fun than mine.” Tawnypelt griped.

“I wouldn’t say so.” Brambleclaw muttered, shivering as he remembered his struggle not to drown below the waves.

“Uh… did you happen to have another dream recently?” Brambleclaw meowed hesitantly, looking to his sister meekly.

Tawnypelt raised a brow at him. “Why? Did you have another dream?”

Brambleclaw nodded slowly. “Uh huh…”

“About?” His sister prompted.

“About Bluestar giving me a message regarding the fate of the Clans, and that I had been chosen to meet with three other cats to listen to what midnight would tell us.”

“Yep! Sounds about right.” Tawnypelt concurred, fixing her brother with a light-hearted gaze.

Brambleclaw’s heart fluttered with the knowledge that his sister shared that dream with him also. “Did Bluestar speak with you as well?” He asked her curiously.

“No, it was Nightstar. Ya know, the leader before… um… Tigerstar…” Tawnypelt looked down at her paws at the mention of their father, and both siblings grew silent.

“So, uh… who do you think the other prophecy cats are?” Brambleclaw inquired, trying to break the awkward quiet that had formed between his sister and him.

Tawnypelt lifted her gaze to him, her eyes still a bit clouded. “Prophecy cats?” She mewed.

“Yeah, it’s what I’m calling us.” Brambleclaw proclaimed, holding his head high. “Pretty clever, huh?”

“Not really, no.” Tawnypelt replied dryly. Brambleclaw’s face fell.

“Eh, I dunno.” Tawnypelt meowed, answering Brambleclaw’s question about the identity of their fellow prophecy cats. “I honestly thought the rest would also be from ShadowClan, but if you received the prophecy, then the other two must be from RiverClan and WindClan.”

Brambleclaw nodded in assent of his sister’s deduction, having already believed that to be the case, though he decided to keep that to himself, wanting to avoid the barbed comment Tawnypelt was bound to give him for trying to one-up her.

“Hey, there’s still some cats here, maybe we can go find out who the others are.” Brambleclaw proposed.

Tawnypelt’s eyes widened in exasperation. “Oh, right, cause that makes sense!” She growled with scorn. “Yes, we should definitely walk up to random cats we don’t know and ask them if they’ve had a dream of a StarClan cat visitin’ them and tellin’ them that we’re all gonna die. They totally won’t think we’re crazy!”

Brambleclaw gritted his teeth. Well so much for avoiding an outburst.

“It was just a thought!” He shot back at her.

Tawnypelt narrowed her eyes. “You already tried to do that, didn’t ya?” She growled again, cornering her brother in his stupidity. He looked away from her, his pelt flaming with embarrassment.

Tawnypelt shook her head. “Well it’s a good thing I got here before you went off again and embarrassed yourself… more.” She added as she took notice of Brambleclaw’s red face.

“Well what do you suggest we do, then?” He huffed, refusing to meet his sister’s gaze after she brutally decimated his confidence.

“We’re all supposed to meet at the new moon.” She meowed thoughtfully. “Nightstar didn’t say where, but it must be here at Fourtrees. There ain’t nowhere else where cats from four different Clans can get together. So, at the new moon, we’ll come here.”

“Yeah, alright, that’s a good idea.” Brambleclaw conceded, the anger he had felt toward his sister fading slightly. “I only hope the other cats do the same.”

“Me too.” Tawnypelt agreed.

“Tawnypelt!” Some-cat called. The littermates turned their heads to see who had yowled. A small but robust red tabby tom was standing a few fox-lengths away, his yellow eyes reflecting the moonshine. “Come on, we’re waiting on you!”

“Comin’, Rowanclaw!” Tawnypelt called back. She turned back to her brother. “Gotta go.” She mewed apologetically, pressing her muzzle to his.

“Yeah, I should probably get going, too. See you at the new moon?” Brambleclaw meowed.

“See ya.” Tawnypelt purred, and Brambleclaw watched as she bounded over to her Clanmate. A twinge of protectiveness coursed through him as he saw Tawnypelt affectionately touch noses with Rowanclaw, the small tom pressing against the large tortoiseshell as they slipped away to join the remainder of ShadowClan.

Brambleclaw growled something not so nice about Rowanclaw under his breath, then hurried over to Firestar and the rest of ThunderClan. Firestar was visibly irritated, flicking his tail back and forth in impatience. A pang of guilt and shame hit Brambleclaw for causing his leader to wait on him for so long.

“Hi Firestar, I’m ready to go, now.” He said softly.

“Finally!” Firestar exclaimed, the displeasure evident in his voice. “You were taking so long I was about to send Leafpaw after you. What were you doing?”

“Sorry Firestar, I-I was talking with my sister.” Brambleclaw stammered, feeling uneasy under the scrutiny of his leader.

Firestar’s vexed gaze softened, and an understanding smile crossed his face. “Well, no harm done, then.” He got up to lead the Clan out of Fourtrees.

Brambleclaw watched him go, donning a grateful smirk. He began to pad after Firestar, but had to stop as Leafpaw stepped in front of him.

“Hey, watch it, Leafpaw!” He snarled at her.

Leafpaw flashed him a warning glare. “You’re the one who needs to watch it! I was already walking when you almost flattened me!” She huffed indignantly, and aggressively stepped forward, her tail held high as she padded away. Brambleclaw just rolled his eyes.

As he trod back to camp, Brambleclaw’s mind swirled with the foretold doom that threatened to destroy the forest, and his and the other prophecy cats’ responsibility to save it.

Trouble was coming, and he did not know what to do about it, nor understand how midnight could tell him anything.

Oh StarClan, he mewed silently, I hope you know what you’re doing!

Chapter Text

Squirrelpaw was awoken by the bright beam of sunlight streaming into the den. She lifted her head groggily and blinked a couple times, then rubbed away the blurriness in her eyes with a paw.

Once she was adjusted to the morning light, she gazed around the den. Two of her fellow apprentices were already awake. Whitepaw, her cousin’s—Cloudtail’s—daughter, was busy washing herself, while Shrewpaw, Dustpelt’s eldest son, was tidying up his nest.

When the little brown tom saw her, his tail shot straight up and he smiled wide. “Good morning, Squirrelpaw!” He greeted her blissfully. “Did you sleep well?”

The molly gave him a small smile in return. “Yes, I did.” Her gaze drifted to another one of the apprentices, Spiderpaw, who was still dozing.

“That’s good.” Shrewpaw mewed, noticing Squirrelpaw’s shifted attention. He looked across the den to Spiderpaw’s nest, a jovial chuckle escaping. He padded to his younger brother.

“Spides, wake up.” He prodded the other tom gently. “You’re going to be late for your hunting patrol.”

Spiderpaw let out a pained groan, digging his head deeper into his moss bedding. But after a moment of disconcerted grumbling, he uncovered himself, his eyes shaded with bleariness.

“I hate patrols.” He lamented tiredly, standing slowly and trudging for the den entrance. An amused purr burst from Shrewpaw’s chest. Squirrelpaw also found Spiderpaw’s unhappiness quite entertaining.

Soon the other apprentices went to exit the den and start their day, and Squirrelpaw followed after them. She emerged from the fern-covered tree-stump, taking a long stretch, then glanced around the clearing. It had been a whole two quarter moons since the latest Gathering, and still not a single drop of rain had fallen from the sky. Over all the forest, the air was hot and heavy. The streams near the camp had dried up, so the Clan had to travel to the stream that flowed past Fourtrees when they needed water. Luckily it ran deep through the rocky soil, and flowed even in the driest greenleaf.

“Hey, want to practice some fighting moves, White? Before training?” Shrewpaw asked his friend.

The snow-colored molly perkily responded. “Sure!” She bounded a few tail-lengths outside the den, falling into a readied crouch.

“Want to practice with us, too, Squirrelpaw?” Shrewpaw invited earnestly.

Squirrelpaw shook her head, casting a glance across the camp, where Firestar, Graystripe, Dustpelt, and Cloudtail sat talking at the base of the Highrock. “No thanks. I’m gonna go see what they’re up to.”

“Oh, um… alright…” The brown apprentice mewed, a mixture of sadness and disappointment weighing in his voice.

Squirrelpaw did not pay him much mind, however, as she was already leaving, trotting up to her cousin, mentor, father, and honorary uncle. “Hello!” She meowed enthusiastically as she plopped down next to Dustpelt.

“Hey, Squirrel!” Graystripe greeted just as brightly, and Cloudtail waved his tail in acknowledgement.

“What’re you all talking about?” She questioned.

“Nothing that concerns you.” Dustpelt growled sternly, giving her a sharp glare, one that his stubborn apprentice fiercely returned.

“Back down, Dust.” Firestar meowed evenly. “She can know.” He nodded at his daughter.

She huffed at her mentor in triumph, and Dustpelt let out another growl, but lowered his eyes, showing he was no longer hostile.

“Firestar wants to send out a patrol to check the border with ShadowClan to make sure they don’t get the sense to cross it in search of water on our territory.” Graystripe explained, his claws sliding out defensively.

“Are you going to go, Dustpelt?” Squirrelpaw prodded the dark tom.

“Yes. I offered to lead it.”

“Then can I go on the patrol, too?” She asked hopefully, staring up at her father with a keen glow.

“If Dustpelt allows it.” Firestar mewed.

“That’s fine.” Dustpelt stated, turning to the young molly. “It’ll make for a good experience for when you have to lead your own patrol one day.”

“Hey! Brambleclaw!” Firestar suddenly yowled.

Squirrelpaw’s heart leaped at the tom’s name, and she spun around in an exuberant flash. She saw him emerging from the Warriors’ Den. He glared over at the gathered cats, his eyes darkened with weariness.

“I want to talk to you.” Firestar clarified.

Brambleclaw blinked a couple times in uncomprehension, then a light sparked in his dim gaze, and he padded to his leader with a small burst of liveliness.

“Yes, Firestar?” He meowed eagerly, though his voice was gruff and thick with fatigue. He sat beside Squirrelpaw, causing her to scoot over slightly out of flusteredness, but her smile didn’t vanish.

Despite how tired and unwell he sounded, which pained Squirrelpaw’s heart, the molly still sent her gaze to coyly admire the dashing warrior next to her, but was forcibly taken aback by the profound state of him. His pelt was grossly disheveled, appearing as though it hadn’t been groomed in moons, along with the near showing of ribs beneath his thick, tabby fur, and his usually vibrant amber eyes were even darker than she’d previously realized, shadowy depths lining them below.

Firestar must have been as startled as his daughter, because he quickly voiced his concern. “Brambleclaw, are you alright?” He eyed his former apprentice with prying worry.

“What? Oh, yes, I’m fine.” The tabby reassured, shaking his head to wake himself up more. “I just… didn’t sleep well.”

“You can go back to sleep if you’d like.” His leader permitted, distress still dancing in his eyes.

“No, no, it’s okay. I want to help. What did you need of me?”

“I wanted to know if you’re available for a patrol. I want to check the border with ShadowClan, in case they get the idea of coming across here to find water.”

“But Blackstar said that his Clan has all the water they need.” Brambleclaw reminded him.

Firestar’s ears twitched. “True. But we don’t necessarily believe what Clan leaders say at a Gathering. Besides, I’ve never trusted Blackstar. If he thinks we have richer prey in our territory, he’ll send warriors in to help themselves, I’m sure.”

Graystripe growled agreement. “ShadowClan has been quiet for too many moons. If you ask me, it’s about time they started making trouble.”

“I just thought-” Brambleclaw stopped, embarrassment at being seen objecting to his leader’s order creeping into his features, but Squirrelpaw was amazed that he could see a possibility Firestar didn’t seem to have considered.

“Go on.” Firestar prompted.

Brambleclaw took a steady breath. Squirrelpaw noticed Cloudtail glaring at him for daring to disagree with his uncle. “I just think that if there is trouble, it’s more likely to come from WindClan.” The tabby ventured. “If their territory is as dry as Tallstar said, then they’re bound to be short of prey.”

“WindClan!” Cloudtail erupted. “Brambleclaw, are you completely mouse-brained? RiverClan gave WindClan permission to drink at the river, so if they steal prey from anywhere they’ll steal it from them.”

“And that strip of RiverClan territory is really narrow between the river and our border.” Brambleclaw retorted, his nostrils beginning to flare. “If WindClan does hunt, the prey could easily cross into our territory.”

“The nerve you have!” Cloudtail sprang to his paws, his fur bristling. “Firestar ordered you to check the ShadowClan border, so you should do what you’re told.”

“Of course, you’ve never disobeyed Firestar, have you?” Dustpelt put in dryly.

Cloudtail ignored his senior. “ShadowClan has always caused trouble.” He persisted. “But we’ve allied with WindClan many times, and Tallstar is far more noble than Blackstar has ever been.”

Squirrelpaw felt anger boiling within her. “Why can’t you just listen to him!” She barked. “It’s a good thought.”

“I agree.” Firestar meowed strongly, cutting off his nephew’s attempt to counter back at his cousin with a stern look. Cloudtail relented.

“In that case, would you like two patrols, then?” Graystripe wondered aloud. “One to the ShadowClan border and the other to WindClan’s?”

“Yes, that is exactly my thinking.” Firestar nodded at his deputy, humored that his best friend had practically read his mind.

“I call ShadowClan!” Graystripe yelled, leaping up. He gave Dustpelt a smug look, and the brown tom scowled at him.

“Come on, Cloud.” The deputy encouraged, flicking the younger tom playfully with his tail. “Let’s go find Thornclaw.”

The two warriors departed.

Brambleclaw stood up suddenly, his tail waving high. “Then we’ll go down to WindClan!” He proclaimed loudly, looking to Firestar eagerly. A wave of happiness passed through Squirrelpaw at Brambleclaw’s renewed luminosity.

“Right. Dustpelt?” Firestar pointed his nose to his sullen friend.

The stocky warrior let out a sigh. “Fine. But I wanted to go to ShadowClan.” He muttered as he turned and began padding for the camp entrance. “Come on.” He mewed curtly, flicking his tail at his younger companions. “We’ll renew the scent markings, and with any luck we’ll find a mouse or two while we’re out.”

Squirrelpaw got up to follow her mentor, joy flooding through her that she was going on a patrol with Brambleclaw. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the young warrior’s shoulders drop, and his muscular form deflated as his precious excitement abandoned him.

Sadness and worry tugged at her heartstrings. Though she knew he wouldn’t admit it if questioned, Brambleclaw was clearly going through something, and had been for a while if looks were anything to go off of. She wanted to make him feel better; to fend off whatever foe was attacking him on the inside, then press against him in comfort and whisper to him that everything was going to be okay, that she was here for him, and that she always would be.

She went to walk beside him, prepared to lighten his mood, and gazed up at him with a humorous glint in her eyes. “What are you all mopey about?”

The tabby released a strained sigh, and Squirrelpaw’s belly clenched at the annoyance nestled within it. “I wanted to lead the patrol.” He sulked, rounding out his words in a slight pout.

However, his irritation didn’t deter her, and she pressed on with her mission. “Oh. Yeah, you wouldn’t have done a good job, anyway.”

Instantly Brambleclaw’s face screwed up in fury, and he whipped his head to her with flaming eyes. “Do you like infuriating me?”

Squirrelpaw inwardly winced at his outburst, guilt tightening her chest. She hadn’t meant to upset him, but she couldn’t stop herself from continuing the banter in response to his barbed words.

“A little bit.” She purred with a smirk.

Of course, this only fueled the flames of Brambleclaw’s ire, and he snorted indignantly and stomped away from her.

Squirrelpaw’s spirits faltered. She knew Brambleclaw didn’t respond well to her teasing; it hurt his feelings, and probably made him think she was too shallow or naive to show him sympathy—which stung her ego—but she didn’t know how else to talk to him, and she held onto hope that someday her jokes would break through his tough exterior and cause a smile or a laugh, even if fleeting. But sometimes, she admitted to herself, she did go too far when it felt like he was starting to challenge her, and making fun of him was honestly amusing, especially when he deserved it.

She sighed in acceptance. She would just have to keep trying. She wouldn’t give up on him.

Firm in her resolve, Squirrelpaw ran forward to catch up with the warriors.

Squirrelpaw pounced and landed swiftly on the vole, dispatching it with a blow of her paw. She held it up victoriously and padded back to her patrol. They had stopped at Sunningrocks to take a quick hunting break. Squirrelpaw bounded through the bushes to where Brambleclaw was laying on a stone doused in sunlight, stretching out lazily. Dustpelt was perched higher up, surveying the area with keen eyes.

When Brambleclaw saw her, he lifted his head with a smile. “Nice catch.” He called, his tail waving in approval.

“Thanks.” She mumbled, her face dusting with pink. She was happy he had recovered his good temper, and that he’d taken notice of her hunting abilities.

She placed the plump vole in offering at the base of Brambleclaw’s stone, and sat up to beam at him. The tabby twitched his ears in surprise.

“Is this for me?”

“Yep!” Squirrelpaw chirped, swishing her fluffy tail gleefully.

Brambleclaw’s face furrowed, and he opened his mouth like he was about to protest, but then confliction passed over his gaze, and he instead graced her with an appreciative grin. “Thank you.” He slid off the smooth rock and began devouring the vole, and Squirrelpaw watched on with satisfaction.

“When you’ve quite finished stuffing yourself,” Dustpelt rumbled as he leapt down from his rock, “we should get moving.”

Brambleclaw nodded his understanding, then gulped down his final bite. He buried the remaining bones and bounded after Dustpelt as the older warrior was starting to walk away, and Squirrelpaw followed his lead.

Falling in step behind Dustpelt, Brambleclaw looked to the apprentice again. “Seriously Squirrelpaw, thanks. I really needed that.”

“Of course, it was no problem.” Squirrelpaw replied with a smile. “Just looking out for a Clanmate.”

Brambleclaw returned the gesture, but it weakened and he glanced away, realizing she knew something he didn’t want her to know.

Squirrelpaw brushed her tail gently against his shoulder in an attempt at comfort, but he quickly shrugged it off.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He mewed roughly.

Squirrelpaw’s face scrunched up in disagreement. I’ll always worry about you.

The silent patrol trailed the edge of the territory, the river running rapidly beside them.

“Squirrelpaw, what do you smell?” Dustpelt posed all of a sudden, breaking the peaceful quiet that had formed around them. Squirrelpaw’s head popped up, and she began to sniff the air. The breeze was blowing from RiverClan territory.

“RiverClan cats—strong and fresh.” She answered.

Dustpelt looked back at her. “Good.” He seemed pleased. “A patrol just went by. Nothing to do with us.”

As they drew closer to Fourtrees and passed the Twoleg bridge, all three cats paused to scan the slope. The breeze had dropped and the air was still and heavy with the scent of cats.

“WindClan and RiverClan.” Brambleclaw mewed aloud.

Dustpelt nodded. “But they’re allowed to go down to the river.” He reminded him. “There’s no sign that they’ve crossed our border.”

They were just starting to continue to Fourtrees when Squirrelpaw caught another scent: WindClan again, but much stronger and fresher than before. She saw Brambleclaw tense next to her, and he frantically signaled to Dustpelt with his tail, angling his ears in the direction where the scent was coming from. Dustpelt crouched down in the long grass and signaled to his companions to do the same.

Squirrelpaw flattened herself to the ground and stared at the clumps of bracken that Brambleclaw had indicated.

For a while, the only noise was the slap and murmur of the river nearby. Then there was a dry, rustling sound, and a mottled brown cat peered out of the bracken before creeping into the open a couple tail-lengths on the ThunderClan side of the border. Squirrelpaw recognized Mudclaw, the WindClan deputy. He was followed by Onewhisker and a lanky dark gray cat she had never seen before—an apprentice, she guessed—carrying a vole in his jaws.

Glancing back, Mudclaw murmured. “Head for the border. I can smell ThunderClan.”

“I’m not surprised.” Dustpelt growled, rising up out of the grass.

Mudclaw recoiled and drew his lips back in a snarl. At once Brambleclaw leapt up to stand beside his Clanmate, and Squirrelpaw dashed up to her mentor’s other side.

“What are you doing on our territory?” Dustpelt demanded. “As if I need to ask.”

“We’re not stealing prey.” Mudclaw retorted.

“Oh yeah, then what’s that?” Squirrelpaw asked accusingly, flicking her tail toward the vole that the apprentice was carrying.

“It’s not a ThunderClan vole.” Onewhisker explained. An old friend of Firestar’s, he looked thoroughly embarrassed to be caught like this on ThunderClan territory. “It ran across the border from RiverClan.”

“Even if that’s true, you’re stealing it from RiverClan.” Brambleclaw pointed out. “You’re allowed to drink from the river, not to take prey.”

The gray-black tom dropped the vole and launched himself across the grass at Brambleclaw. “Mind your own business!” He spat.

Squirrelpaw’s hackles raised and she unsheathed her claws, ready to attack the insolent apprentice if he even dared to lay a paw on Brambleclaw.

Brambleclaw took a few menacing steps forward, towering over the WindClan cat. The apprentice continued to stand his ground, hissing at Brambleclaw with his ears flattened against his head, but his eyes had glossed over with uncertainty.

“I most certainly will not mind my business if it means holding you accountable for breaking RiverClan’s trust.” The tabby growled, getting in the apprentice’s face.

“Get away from him!” Mudclaw roared. Brambleclaw turned his gaze away for only a heartbeat, but that was enough time for the apprentice to leap at him, barreling into the larger tom and knocking him to the hard ground. Brambleclaw released a surprised yowl as the apprentice’s teeth bit into the loose skin of the warrior’s neck.

“Brambleclaw!” Squirrelpaw called out fervently, and began to sprint toward the fight, claws out, but was stopped by Dustpelt as he thrust himself in front of her.

“Hey!” She exclaimed with agitation. “What are you doing?”

Her mentor didn’t respond. He was staring intensely at the warring cats, seeming just as on edge as she was; his claws unsheathed and pelt bristling all over.

Realizing Dustpelt wasn’t going to let her into the brawl if he could help it, she looked back to Brambleclaw to see how he was faring. She watched as he twisted his body, managing to score his claws down the other cat’s shoulder. The apprentice’s hind paws scrabbled at the tabby’s belly in objection. With a screech of fury, Brambleclaw tore his neck free and aimed a powerful blow at his opponent with his paw.

But before his attack could meet its mark, Brambleclaw was bowled into again by a blur of brown—it was Mudclaw. The deputy knocked Brambleclaw to the ground, sending him skidding on his side a few tail-lengths away.

Mudclaw yanked the apprentice up by the scruff. “Crowpaw, what is wrong with you!” He yowled furiously. “He was about to kill you!”

Crowpaw shot him a rage-filled look through narrowed eyes. “He called us thieves!” He snarled back.

“And he was right, wasn’t he?” Onewhisker looked to Dustpelt with meek eyes. “I’m sorry, Dustpelt. It is a RiverClan vole, and I know we shouldn’t have taken it, but there’s hardly any prey in our own territory. Our elders and kits are hungry, and-” He stopped as if he thought he had already said too much. “What will you do now?”

“The vole’s between you and RiverClan.” Dustpelt meowed coldly. “I see no need to tell Firestar about this—unless it happens again. Just get out of our territory, and stay out.” He hissed a low growl.

The WindClan warriors turned to leave, but Mudclaw stopped short of the border and looked back to Brambleclaw, who was gingerly getting to his paws.

Squirrelpaw tensed her muscles as the deputy marched up to the dazed tabby, his teeth bared. He slammed a paw on the ground as he faced the hulking warrior. “Let this be known, now. If I or any WindClan cat ever catches you near or StarClan forbid on our territory, it will be on sight.” A few drops of saliva sprayed in Brambleclaw’s face as the other warrior spat in it, then Mudclaw fully retreated with his comrades, shooting a vengeful glare at the ThunderClan patrol.

Dustpelt relaxed a bit, though his eyes still glistened with anger. “I am so telling Firestar.” He grumbled to himself.

The bigger tom finally allowed Squirrelpaw to move, and she dashed to Brambleclaw, anxiety rushing through her small body.

“Brambleclaw! Are you okay? I’m so sorry I didn’t jump in to help—Dustpelt wouldn’t let me. That fox-heart Crowpaw! He’s gonna pay for hurting you! I’ll make sure of it! How is your wound? Does it hurt bad? It doesn’t look deep, but we can still take you to Cinderpelt if you want. Brambleclaw?” Squirrelpaw ceased her flurry of questions when she realized Brambleclaw wasn’t paying her any attention. He had sat down, his eyes—glossy with unshed tears—completely fixed on the ground, claws gripping the earth, and his whole body was trembling like he was holding up a boulder on his shoulders but would soon crumble under the weight.

Her anxiety peaked to an all time high.

“Dustpelt! Brambleclaw isn’t responding. Something’s wrong with him! What do we-” Her mentor slapped his tail over her mouth as he came up to her, effectively silencing her. He tentatively took a couple steps toward Brambleclaw, slowly lowering his tail. Squirrelpaw remained quiet, digging her claws into the dirt as she tried to stay calm.

“Brambleclaw? Hey, you did good.” Dustpelt rasped softly, or as close as he could get to it. “You had the right idea about WindClan. They may not have been stealing prey from us, but they did steal prey, and now we know to be on the lookout in case they try to do it again, maybe even from us. Firestar will be pleased.”

He paused, waiting for Brambleclaw to say something, but the tabby never did. He continued to stare into the grass and dirt, his ears folded back so tight he could probably barely hear anything.

Dustpelt tried again. “Brambleclaw, can you please look at me? I don’t think Mudclaw really meant what he said. It’s only a bluff. He’s just mad we caught him breaking the code.” He let out a little purr of laughter, but that didn’t change Brambleclaw’s state, either.

Dustpelt tried once more, this time reaching out a paw. He placed it on one of Brambleclaw’s, but as soon as he did Brambleclaw snatched his away and jumped up, stumbling back, though he still didn’t look at them.

Finally, Dustpelt released a heavy sigh, then got to his paws and began to pad off. “Let’s just get back to camp.” He meowed solemnly.

Squirrelpaw started to follow him, but turned back to the unresponsive warrior, contemplating trying to talk to him again. She took a step toward him.

“Squirrelpaw, leave him alone.” Dustpelt mewed dispassionately. The apprentice hung her head and hurried after her mentor.

Bounding to his side, she looked up at him with a desperate query blazing in her eyes. “Why did Mudclaw say such a horrible thing? You said it probably wasn’t truthful, but it was still so cruel and it hurt Brambleclaw.”

Dustpelt let another deep sigh pass through his nose. “Actually, I do think Mudclaw meant it.” He meowed. “I only told Brambleclaw that to make him feel better, but clearly he knew better than to believe me.”

“But why?!” Squirrelpaw cried, her voice shrill with sorrow and frustration. “Why would he tell Brambleclaw that? Why is he treating him like he’s dangerous? That apprentice attacked him first!”

“Have you ever heard the story about Gorsepaw?” Dustpelt asked.

Squirrelpaw shook her head, confused. “No, I don’t think so. But what does that have to do with this?”

“I’m about to tell you.” The tom hissed. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again Squirrelpaw noticed a reluctance in his gaze.

“Gorsepaw was a WindClan apprentice. He was killed by Tigerstar when the tyrant had ShadowClan ambush WindClan. WindClan took the loss hard, and are still enraged by it to this day… and in their eyes, there is nothing that separates Brambleclaw from Tigerstar; they are one in the same.”

“That’s ridiculous! Just because he’s Tigerstar’s son? Sure he can be a bit of a fox-heart, but he’s loyal and courageous and kind when it really counts. He would never harm some-cat just for the sake of it!”

“I know.” Dustpelt casted her a doleful glance. “But they don’t.”

Conflicted, Squirrelpaw briefly glanced over her shoulder. Brambleclaw was trailing a good distance behind them, his paws and tail brushing the ground as his head hung low. She looked forward again.

“Is he going to be alright?” She asked Dustpelt softly.

He shrugged. “I hope so.”

The patrol soon returned to camp. Brambleclaw immediately dispatched from the group to rush into the Nursery. Squirrelpaw had to fight herself not to run after him.

“So, how did it go?” Firestar asked curiously as she and Dustpelt walked up to him. He flicked his tail at Graystripe next to him. “Gray said his patrol didn’t see even one ShadowClan cat.”

“It started out fine.” Dustpelt began to explain. “But we did come across a WindClan patrol trespassing on our territory, and a fight broke out between Brambleclaw and Crowpaw.”

“Crowpaw? Mudclaw’s apprentice? Was he there, too?” Firestar questioned in growing concern.

“Yes. His patrol had stolen prey from RiverClan, as well.”

“Just like I said.” Cloudtail growled from beside Graystripe. The gray tom shot him an unimpressed glare.

Firestar clawed the ground anxiously. “You said Brambleclaw had gotten into a fight? Is he alright? I don’t see him.”

“That’s the other thing.” Dustpelt mewed hesitantly. He relayed to Firestar what Mudclaw had said to Brambleclaw. Firestar’s eyes grew wide in dismay.

“Oh dear.” He looked toward the Nursery. Ferncloud and her kits were just leaving it, their expressions distressed. A faint sobbing could be made out from within the den.

Firestar padded to the shelter, and Squirrelpaw followed her father. No cat stopped her. They were all too sorrowful, knowing exactly what a certain Clanmate was going through.

Firestar stepped in delicately, but Squirrelpaw lingered at the entrance. She shared a worried glance with Ferncloud as she peered inside.

Brambleclaw was crying into Goldenflower’s chest, his wails loud and ugly.

“Shhh, my baby. It’s alright. Mama’s here.” Goldenflower hushed him with a soft mew, stroking his back soothingly with her paw. She glared at Firestar as the ginger tom sat beside them, her golden eyes burning with vengeance.

Firestar met her fierce gaze, heaving a sigh. “No, Goldenflower, we are not going to fight WindClan.”

The feisty queen gave him a snarl, then rasped her tongue over her son’s head comfortingly.

Firestar turned to the anguished warrior. He laid his tail on the young tom’s flank. Brambleclaw tensed, but he didn’t push his leader away like he had done with Dustpelt.

“Brambles, I’m so sorry that happened to you.” Firestar mewed in a low tone. Brambleclaw pulled away from his mother, and looked up at his former mentor in pleading desperation.

“I don’t know what to do anymore!” He hiccuped. “I’ve tried everything to prove myself, but they refuse to trust me!” He pressed back into Goldenflower’s fur. “But I stood up to Tigerstar! They were there. They saw it! So why do they still hate me? I don’t understand!” His crying intensified, and Goldenflower wrapped him in a tight embrace.

Squirrelpaw noticed her father’s mouth quiver, seeming on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I don’t know what to do, either.”

Having seen too much misery, and on the brink of crying herself, Squirrelpaw retreated from the den.

As she padded away, she heard a squeak of pain, and her eyes shot over to a bramble bush. Birchkit, Hollykit, and Larchkit were huddled by it, and Birchkit was scrutinizing his paw. Squirrelpaw could see a speck of red oozing out of it.

“Birchkit, are you alright, darling?” Came Ferncloud’s mew. She had gone to sit with Dustpelt, though she retained her watchful gaze over her kits.

“Yes, Mommy. I’m okay.” Her son responded.

“What’re you three doing?” Squirrelpaw asked. Larchkit looked up at her with a dejected expression.

“We were playing with a mossball, but it went into the bush.”

“I tried to get it out, but it hurt me.” Birchkit added, licking his sore paw.

Wanting to distract herself from the scene she had witnessed in the Nursery, Squirrelpaw gave them a grin. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it out for you.” She bounced over to the bush. Crouching down, she carefully scanned through the leaves and thorns. Her eyes landed on the mossball. With a triumphant smile, she diligently crawled into the brambles. The bush rustled a couple times, then the mossball came flying out from it.

The triplets let out squeals of joy as the cluster of moss rolled to them, and they immediately pounced and started to fumble with it.

“Thanks Squirrelpaw!” Birchkit hollered as his sisters scurried off with the moss between their teeth, and he chased after them.

Squirrelpaw waved a paw goodbye as they skedaddled. She began to clear the bush, but was stopped when her body suddenly refused to move any further. She looked over her shoulders to find that one of her back legs and tail were tangled in a mess of thorny twigs.

Huffing in annoyance, she tugged hard at her backside, but still she didn’t budge.

“Ugh!” She exclaimed frustratedly, and pulled again, and again, and again, each time growing more and more impatient.

Fury blazing her pelt, she scrabbled at the ground and jerked around wildly. She was so determined to escape her barbed captor that she didn’t notice another cat’s approach.

“Squirrelpaw, what are you doing?” Growled the voice, half astonished and half irate. The apprentice whipped her head to her father.

“Nothing! I was just-”

“Why are you in a bramble bush?!” Firestar interrupted, his screech heavy with outrage.

“Ferncloud’s kits got a mossball stuck in here and I got it out for them, okay?” Squirrelpaw snarled back, meeting his stare with emerald flames.

Firestar rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Well why would you think it a good idea to walk into a bramble bush, a bush with scathingly sharp and twisting thorns, instead of coming to a different solution that wouldn’t have ended with you getting half your body caught in it?” He fixed her with an incensed look. “Clearly you didn’t think this through, like always.”

Squirrelpaw’s whole body trembled with rage. “You really do think I’m stupid, don’t you?!”

“No, I know you’re not stupid; you’re very intelligent. The problem is you don’t put that intelligence to good use and make mouse-brained decisions instead. You could’ve poked your eyes out!”

Squirrelpaw growled a tense sigh. “Well I didn’t, because I knew what I was doing! And how else would I’ve been able to get the mossball? Ask someone else to jump in and get their eyes poked out instead? Cause that’s what this is really about! You won’t let me do anything for myself! Stop being so protective of me!”

The anger in Firestar’s eyes became less concentrated, replacing with severity. “Well I wouldn’t have to be so protective if you weren’t so reckless. If you took just one moment to think about your actions and the results that come from them, then I would have no need to carry a looming eye over you. I worry for you, Squirrelpaw. I fear for your safety!”

“But how am I supposed to improve if you never let me do anything?” His daughter countered, her eyes narrowing irritably. “You can’t keep sheltering me! You always say ‘life is about making mistakes.’ So why won’t you let me make mine? I’m not afraid, Daddy!”

Firestar’s eyes dropped to the ground. “But I am.” He whispered.

Squirrelpaw drew her ears back in remorse, but had no desire to apologize. She took another try at pulling her leg free.

“Here, let me help.” Her father mewed, stepping forward.

“No! I can do it myself.” She started to aggressively pull and twist at her body again.

“But you’ll hurt yourself that way!” Squirrelpaw ignored her father’s protest, and with her last bit of patience burning away, she leapt up and out of the entanglement, the brambles tearing her flesh and scraping off clumps of orange fur. She landed hard on her paws.

“There! I’m out.” She turned to Firestar, her eyes smoldering with triumph. He stared on with a haunted expression.

Squirrelpaw began to walk off, wincing as searing pain shot through her bloodstained leg. She stopped just outside the Nursery, staring into the dark lair. She saw a brown tabby tail flick in the shadows.

“How is he?” Squirrelpaw rasped, pricking up her ears but not looking back at Firestar.

“Alright, I think. He’s asleep now.” He responded quietly.

Squirrelpaw nodded in understanding. “Good. He needs it.” She continued on her way, limping into the Medicine Den.

Chapter Text

Brambleclaw opened his eyes to be met with a pitch black den. Dazed from sleep, he yawned and stretched out, flexing his claws before sliding them back into his large paws. His eyes were still raw from his earlier sobbing.

His head brushed against something soft, and he breathed in the warm and comforting scent of his mother, hearing the slow rhythm of her own breathing in slumber and the beat of her heart behind his ears. He nestled into the grand fluff of her chest, her long and curly fur draping over him in a golden blanket of love and protection.

He purred deeply. He didn’t want to leave the security of the moment, especially after his traumatic encounter with Mudclaw, but a sense of urgency was willing him away; the memories of his supposed sun-drown-place vision, the dire prophecy Bluestar had given him, and his promise to his sister to meet her and hopefully the other prophecy cats that night.

With a final inhale of Goldenflower’s soothing scent, Brambleclaw drew himself out of her pelt, then slowly got to his paws.

Taking a quick glance at Ferncloud and her kits who were sleeping soundly in their own nest, he crept out of the den, making a perusal of the camp, then bounded out, his pelt briefly snagging on the overhanging brambles. He hoped no-cat had heard his departure.

There was almost no moon at all, but the stars of Silverpelt glittered so brightly that Brambleclaw had no difficulty in finding his way through the gorse tunnel and up the ravine. Leaves rustled as he brushed through the undergrowth from one patch of shade to the next, trying to tread as lightly as if he were creeping up on a mouse. Other ThunderClan warriors might be out late, and Brambleclaw did not want to be seen, nor to explain where he was going. He had not told any cat about his dream, and he wasn’t sure if Firestar would approve of him going to meet with cats of the other Clans at Fourtrees when he was not protected by the full-moon truce, but he didn’t want to risk getting on his leader’s bad side again in case he wasn’t, so Brambleclaw would stay uncaught.

The air was cool now, but there was a dusty scent in the air, rising from the parched earth. Plants were drooping or lay withering on the ground. The whole forest cried out for rain like a starving kit, and if it did not come soon, it would not be only WindClan that was short of water.

When Brambleclaw reached Fourtrees the clearing was empty. The sides of the Great Rock glimmered with starshine, and the leaves of the four oak trees rustled gently overhead. He shivered. He was so used to seeing the hollow full of cats that it seemed far more daunting than before: so much bigger, with so many unexplained shadows. He could almost imagine that he had stepped into the mystical world of StarClan.

He padded across the clearing and sat at the base of the Great Rock. His ears were pricked to catch the smallest sound, and every nerve from ears to tail-tip was stretched with anticipation. Who would the other cats be? As moments slipped by, his excitement was replaced by anxiety. Not even Tawnypelt had arrived. Perhaps she had changed her mind, or perhaps this was the wrong meeting place after all.

At last he saw movement in the bushes about halfway up the side of the hollow. Brambleclaw tensed. The breeze was blowing away from him, so he could not pick up the scent; from the direction it was coming it could have been either a RiverClan or WindClan cat.

He followed the movement with his eyes as far as a clump of bracken at the bottom of the slope. The fronds waved wildly, and a cat stepped into the clearing.

Brambleclaw stared, frozen for a heartbeat, then sprang to his paws, his neck fur bristling in fury.
“Squirrelpaw!” He stalked stiff-legged across the clearing until he stood face to face with the apprentice. “Just what do you think you’re doing here?” He hissed.

“Hi, Brambleclaw.” Squirrelpaw tried to sound calm, but her sparkling eyes betrayed her excitement. “I couldn’t sleep, and I saw you leaving, so I’ve been following you.” She gave a little purr of delight. “I was good, wasn’t I? You never even knew I was there, all the way through the forest.”

That was true, though Brambleclaw would rather have died than tell her he was impressed with her secretly following him without his discovery. Instead, he let out a low growl. For two mouse-tails he felt like springing at the ginger molly to claw the smug expression off her face. “Why can’t you mind your own business?”

The molly narrowed her eyes. “It’s any cat’s business when a Clan warrior sneaks out of camp at night.”

“I wasn’t sneaking.” Brambleclaw protested guiltily.

“Oh no?” Squirrelpaw sounded scornful. “You leave camp, come straight up here to Fourtrees, and sit waiting for ages, looking like you expect every warrior in the forest to jump out at you. Don’t tell me you’re just enjoying the beautiful night.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Brambleclaw heard his voice grow desperate; all he wanted was to get rid of this annoying apprentice before any cats from the other Clans arrived. She hadn’t mentioned the dream, which meant she couldn’t have had it as well, so she had no right to be here and find out the next part of the prophecy—if that was what was really going to happen. “This has got nothing to do with you, Squirrelpaw. Why don’t you just go home?”

“No.” Squirrelpaw sat down and curled her tail around her front paws, glaring at Brambleclaw with wide green eyes. “I’m not leaving until I find out what’s going on.”

Brambleclaw let out a snarl of sheer frustration. “Fine! You can stay. Just… be quiet, alright!” He stormed away from her and plopped down, hunching his shoulders in a pout. The cheeky apprentice bounded after him, sitting beside him. She smiled graciously at him, but Brambleclaw did not reciprocate.

As silence fell over them, Brambleclaw’s gaze flickered to Squirrelpaw, and he was startled by the collection of lacerations scoring her right leg.

“Squirrelpaw, what happened to your leg? It’s covered in scars.”

The apprentice became flustered, and her tail quickly flew to hide her side. “Nothing! Nothing happened.”

Brambleclaw shifted uncomfortably. “You didn’t… do that to yourself… right..?” He gave Squirrelpaw a sad but understanding look. She blinked at him in confusion.

“Not… intentionally, if that’s what you mean.”

“…Yeah, that’s- that’s what I meant.” Brambleclaw stared at the ground.

“…I got stuck in a bramble bush while trying to help Ferncloud’s kits get a mossball out of it.” Squirrelpaw finally admitted. Brambleclaw couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Is that so? Well I’m glad you’re okay.” He passed her a fond look.

“Thanks… are you okay?” She glanced up at him, concern sparkling in her eyes. Unfortunately, Brambleclaw knew what she was referring to.

He sighed. “Yeah, I’m better… I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“No, it’s alright. What Mudclaw said to you was cruel.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Squirrelpaw eyed him questioningly, but Brambleclaw didn’t elaborate.

“I heard what you said to Dustpelt afterward. Thanks for having my back.”

“Of course.”

Brambleclaw felt his eyelids getting heavy. Slowly, as each blink grew more and more lethargic, his surroundings became blacker than night, and a calm feeling washed over him as he drifted away from the waking world once again.

“Brambleclawwww.” A familiar molly’s voice was speaking to him, drawled out and in a melodic tone.

Brambleclaw groaned as he forced his eyes open. He was greeted with a very close up and personal pair of light green eyes.

“Wake up!”

“Ahhhh!” Brambleclaw flew back and onto the ground, his fur standing on end and claws spiked out, utterly frazzled.

An outburst of laughter answered his frantic reaction. Brambleclaw sat up, panting, and focused his gaze on his sister.

“Hiya, Brambsie!” Tawnypelt beamed at him, her face lit up with amusement.

“Wha- huh- Tawnypelt?” A relieved smile leisurely formed on his own face. “You did come! I was getting worried you wouldn’t show.”

“You know me better than that.” His sister light-heartedly scolded. “When I make a promise, I keep it.”

Brambleclaw purred and walked up to her, pressing his forehead to her’s. Backing away, he caught sight of two more familiar faces, and his grin got wider.

“Stormfur! Feathertail!” He bounded to his former foster siblings, ramming into them and almost knocking them off their paws. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“Hi Brambs! We’re glad to see you, too.” Stormfur chuckled, flicking Brambleclaw playfully on the nose with his tail, and Feathertail licked the tabby behind the ear.

“Did you both have the dream, as well?” Brambleclaw asked, glancing at Stormfur.

The RiverClan warrior shook his head. “No, only Feathertail.”

“It scared me so much.” Feathertail confessed. “I couldn’t eat or sleep because of how much I was thinking about it. Stormfur knew something was wrong, and he pestered me until I told him what I’d dreamt. We decided that I should come to Fourtrees tonight, at the new moon, and Storm wouldn’t let me come by myself.” She gave her brother’s ear an affectionate lick. “He- he didn’t want me to be in danger. But I’m not, am I? I mean, we all know each other.”

“Honestly, Feathertail, I don’t know.” Brambleclaw mewed, guilty that he couldn’t ease her fears. “Bluestar didn’t specify what kind of trouble the Clans were going to face, and just said to meet with you all tonight to hear what midnight has to say.”

“Oakheart told me that, too.” Feathertail confirmed. “It’s all very stressful.”

At his sister’s anxiousness, Stormfur laid his tail on her back. “Don’t worry. We’re going to figure this all out.”

“Yes, we will.” Brambleclaw stated determinedly. “We’ll sit here and wait for midnight, and it must be nearly upon us, now.” He glanced up at the stars.

Feathertail smiled faintly.

“So, let me get this straight.” Came Squirrelpaw’s quizzical mew. Every-cat turned to her. “You all had dreams where a StarClan warrior visited you and told you of some impending doom, and that you had to come here and wait for a sign at midnight?” She blinked at them. “Is that what’s going on?”

Brambleclaw let out a reluctant sigh. “Everyone, this is Squirrelpaw.” He waved his tail disdainfully at the apprentice.

“Yeah. They know that.” Squirrelpaw hissed back.

“They do?” Brambleclaw looked to his friends in confusion.

“Yeah. We already met, and talked.” Feathertail meowed.

“When?”

“While you were in Sleepyland.” Stormfur purred teasingly. Brambleclaw felt his face redden.

“What’s going on?” A new voice suddenly came from behind them, high-pitched and aggressive. “This can’t be right—Deadfoot said there were only supposed to be four of us.”

Brambleclaw jumped and looked around. His eyes narrowed into a furious glare as he recognized the cat with smoky gray-black fur, lean limbs, and a small, neat head.

“You!” Squirrelpaw spat, beating Brambleclaw to the words.

“Yes, me- ahhhh!” Crowpaw started before the ginger molly came hurtling toward him, sending him straight into the dirt.

“You’re going to pay for what you did!” She snarled at him.

“Squirrelpaw!” Brambleclaw leapt forward and grabbed her by the scruff, dragging her off the other apprentice. Dropping her, he blocked her path toward Crowpaw as she attempted to jump back up. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Making him pay!” She screeched. “Didn’t you hear me?!”

“Are you mad or something?!” Crowpaw howled when he got back on his paws. “You attacked me!”

“You started it!” Squirrelpaw retorted. “Back at the border.”

“Yeah, because your bodyguard right there insulted me and my Clanmates!”

Both Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw became extremely flustered by the remark.

“He’s not my bodyguard!” Squirrelpaw protested. She glared at the tabby. “I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.”

Brambleclaw growled at her. “Well you can’t fight here, not when we’re waiting for StarClan.” He turned to the surly WindClan apprentice. “I’m sorry I called you a thief. It was wrong of me. Can we please just put it behind us? At least for now?”

Crowpaw stared at the ground in contemplation, but eventually his fur fell flat and the anger in his blue eyes receded. “Alright.”

“Now that that’s over with.” Feathertail padded up to the newcomer, her eyes alight with friendliness. “Hello. I’m Feathertail. And that’s my brother, Stormfur, Tawnypelt, and I see you’ve met Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw already.” Her eyes crinkled in awkwardness at their mention. “What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s- it’s Crowpaw.” He became somewhat bashful at Feathertail’s welcoming confrontation.

“You had the dream, too?” Stormfur questioned, coming up to the pair.

Crowpaw gave him a curt nod. “I spoke with our old deputy, Deadfoot. He told me to meet three other cats at the new moon.”

“Then that’s one cat from each Clan.” Replied Feathertail, her earlier anxiety noticeably dissipating. “We’re all here.”

“Now we just have to wait for midnight.” Brambleclaw added.

“Do you know what this is about?” Crowpaw turned his back on Brambleclaw and appealed directly to Feathertail.

“If it were me,” Squirrelpaw meowed before Feathertail could reply, “I’d be a bit less quick to believe in these dreams. If there was really trouble on its way, do you think StarClan would come to you first, before the Clan leaders or medicine cats?”

“Then how do you explain it?” Brambleclaw asked, all the more defensive because he had felt exactly the same doubts that Squirrelpaw was voicing now. “Why else would we all have had the same dream?”

“Maybe you’ve all been stuffing yourselves with too much fresh-kill.” Squirrelpaw suggested with a giggle.

Crowpaw whipped around with an angry hiss. “Who asked you, anyway?” He demanded.

“I can say what I like!” Squirrelpaw shot back at him. “I don’t need your permission. You’re not even a warrior.”

“Neither are you!” The charcoal cat snapped. “What are you doing here, anyway? You didn’t have the dream. No-cat wants you here!”

Brambleclaw opened his jaws to defend Squirrelpaw. Even though he had been annoyed with her for following him, it was no business of Crowpaw’s to tell her what to do. Then he realized that Squirrelpaw wouldn’t thank him; with her ready tongue she was quite capable of defending herself.

“I don’t see them falling over themselves to welcome you, either.” She growled.

Crowpaw spat, his ears flattened and his eyes glaring in fury.

“There’s no need to get angry.” Feathertail told him, stopping another fight from ensuing. “I’m sure StarClan will show themselves at any moment, and then you can return home.”

Brambleclaw glanced around the clearing, half hoping that a cat from StarClan would appear to tell them what they were supposed to be doing. But Silverpelt shone on a clearing empty of any cats but themselves. He could smell nothing but the ordinary night scents of growing plants and distant prey, and hear nothing but the sigh of wind through the branches of the oaks.

“It must be after midnight now.” Tawnypelt meowed. “I don’t think StarClan’s comin’.”

Feathertail turned to look all around the clearing, her blue eyes once more wide with anxiety. “But they have to come! Why did we all have the same dream, if it wasn’t true?”

“I’m sorry, Feths, but nothin’s happenin’.” Tawnypelt sighed. “Here we are, meetin’ at the new moon, just as StarClan told us. We can’t do anythin’ more.”

“We were fools to come.” Crowpaw gave them all another unfriendly stare. “The dreams meant nothing. There’s no prophecy, no danger—and even if there were, the Warrior Code should be enough to protect the forest.” He began to stalk across the clearing to the slope on the WindClan side, and his last words were flung over his shoulder. “I’m going back to camp.”

“Good riddance!” Squirrelpaw yowled after him. He ignored her, and a moment later he had disappeared into the bushes.

“Tawnypelt’s right. Nothing is going to happen.” Stormfur meowed. “We might as well go, too. Come on, Feathertail.”

“Just a moment.” Mewed Brambleclaw hastily. “Maybe we got it wrong. Maybe StarClan was angry because of the fighting. We can’t just pretend that nothing has happened, that none of us had those dreams. We ought to decide what we’re going to do next.”

“But what can we do?” Tawnypelt asked. She flicked her tail at Squirrelpaw. “Maybe she’s right. Why would StarClan choose us and not our leaders?”

“I don’t know, but I think they have chosen us.” Feathertail meowed gently. “But somehow we haven’t understood properly. Maybe they’ll send us all another dream to explain.”

“Maybe they already have!” Brambleclaw exclaimed. “Listen. I did have another dream before Bluestar visited me—and Tawn said she had this dream, too—about a place where the sun drowns below the waves of a huge, salty lake. I talked to Ravenpaw about it, and he said it’s real! StarClan must be telling us to go there, because why else would we have dreamt of it? It can’t just be a coincidence.”

“You really think that’s what we should do?” Feathertail ventured, her eyes still glazed with worry.

“It has to be. It has to mean something! If StarClan were showing us all these signs and we didn’t act on them, and something really bad does end up happening to the Clans… I’d never forgive myself.” He lowered his head.

“But Brambs, we’ve never been there.” Tawnypelt challenged. “Even if StarClan were tellin’ us to journey there, how are we supposed to know which way to go?”

Brambleclaw looked to the night sky in thought. “Maybe… maybe we have to follow the sun.” He turned to stare off behind the group. “Follow it to where it sets every day.”

“That’s very wishful thinking, Brambs.” Stormfur voiced flatly.

“I know, but… we have to at least try.” His gaze met his friends’, but none of them seemed convinced.

In an act of frustration, he slammed a paw on the ground. “I’m going! I have to do something, and this is the best chance I’ve got. By the next new moon… I’ll be gone.” He paused, letting his words sink into the cats gathered around him. “You are all welcome to come, but I won’t force you if you truly don’t believe in it. I admit, this is a huge risk, but it’s one I’m willing to take if it means saving the Clans, my family, every-cat I care about, from destruction.”

There was a brief silence, and then Feathertail stepped forward.

“I’m coming with you!”

“Me too.” Tawnypelt announced, fixing her brother with a confident gaze.

The three cats turned to Stormfur. The gray tom’s eyes grew wide at the attention, and he shifted nervously. Eventually, though, he padded to his sister, twining his tail with her’s.

“If Feathertail’s going, then so am I.”

“We’ve got your back.” Feathertail purred at Brambleclaw. He smiled at her.

“Great! Then we’ll meet here again at the next new moon, and start our journey.”

“Wait, what about Crowpaw?” Stormfur spoke up. “He left, remember? He doesn’t know about this.”

A rustling behind them seemed to answer Stormfur’s query. The cats turned around to find Crowpaw creeping out of the bushes he had vanished into.

“Nevermind.” Stormfur mumbled. They all watched as the gray-black apprentice stalked back up to them.

“Had a change of heart, did ya?” Tawnypelt teased. Crowpaw just growled at her, something the temperamental tortoiseshell clearly didn’t appreciate.

“Did you happen to hear what I said?” Brambleclaw asked the younger tom, who was standing near him.

“Yeah: meet you here at the next new moon.” Crowpaw summarized.

“Sorry, I’ve got another question.” Stormfur started. “What do we tell our Clans? It’s against the Warrior Code to hide things from them.”

“StarClan never said we had to keep the dream secret.” Tawnypelt put in.

“I know, but…” Feathertail hesitated. “I just feel it’s wrong to talk about it.” Brambleclaw knew Stormfur and Tawnypelt were right; he was already feeling guilty that he had said nothing about his dream to Firestar and Cinderpelt. But at the same time he shared Feathertail’s instinct to keep silent.

“I’m not sure.” He meowed. “Suppose our leaders forbade us to meet again? We could end up having to choose between obeying them or obeying StarClan.” Aware of uneasy glances from the others, he went on earnestly. “We don’t know enough to tell them. It’s best to keep silent for now. If StarClan really wants them to know, maybe they’ll send them a sign, too.” Feathertail agreed at once, obviously relieved, and after a pause Stormfur gave a small, reluctant nod.

“Alright.” Tawnypelt said with a long stretch, not seeming to care either way. “I’m off.”

Brambleclaw touched noses with her in farewell, breathing in her familiar scent. “It must mean something that we were both chosen—brother and sister.” He purred.

“Maybe.” Tawnypelt said with a shrug, and rasped her tongue over Brambleclaw’s ear in a rare gesture of affection only he was accustomed to. “StarClan willin’, I’ll see you here, soon.”

Brambleclaw watched her bound across the clearing, before turning to Squirrelpaw. “Come on.” He meowed. “I’ve got things I want to say to you.”

Squirrelpaw shrugged and padded away from him and toward ThunderClan territory.

Saying good night to Feathertail and Stormfur, and aptly ignoring Crowpaw, Brambleclaw headed up the slope after her. When he emerged from the hollow a hot, clammy breeze was blowing into his face, ruffling his fur and turning back the leaves on the trees. Clouds had begun to mass above his head, cutting off the light of Silverpelt. The forest was silent and the air felt heavier than ever. Brambleclaw guessed that the storm was on its way at last.

As he began trotting down toward the stream, Squirrelpaw paused to wait for him. Her fur was relaxed on her spine now, and her green eyes shone.

“That was exciting!” She exclaimed, bouncing up. “I can’t wait for the journey!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you are not coming on the journey.” Brambleclaw growled.

“Why not? You said we’re all welcome to come.” Squirrelpaw argued, lashing her tail.

“Well I didn’t really mean to include you.” He snarled pointedly.

“Oh please, Brambleclaw! You have to let me go! I need to go!”

“No you don’t!” Brambleclaw roared. “You didn’t even have a dream!”

“Yes I do!” Squirrelpaw jumped right in front of him, staring him down. “I’m trapped here! Daddy thinks I’m too reckless and impatient to do anything on my own! This might be my only chance to prove to him how capable I really am.”

“Right, because running away to go on a more than likely dangerous quest is definitely going to change his mind.”

“How is that any different than what you’re doing?” Squirrelpaw countered. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s because you’re a warrior and I’m not.”

“But it is!” Brambleclaw shouted in exasperation, his fur flaming. “You don’t have as much experience as me.”

“You don’t have experience traveling an arduous journey!” Squirrelpaw flashed back. “My skills are just as useful as yours in that sense.”

“I just don’t want you to go!” Brambleclaw erupted. “I don’t want to have to look after you!”

“You won’t need to look after me!” Squirrelpaw trumpeted. “I can look after myself!”

Beginning to feel overwhelmed, Brambleclaw looked away from her.

Squirrelpaw must’ve felt bad about this, because she apologized. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll drop it.” She sat down despondently. “I won’t go.”

An uncomfortable feeling stirred within Brambleclaw. He related to the apprentice’s desire to prove her worth, and knew deep down that he couldn’t push her away.

He sighed heavily. “Okay, fine… you can come.” He lifted his gaze to see Squirrelpaw looking as though she were about to burst from joy.

“But only if you keep quiet about everything!” He quickly added as the molly opened her mouth to yelp something.

She nodded profusely, her tail waving in the air and green eyes blazing with delight. “Yes, I will! Thank you, Brambleclaw!” She ran up and brushed up against his chest. Flustered, Brambleclaw released an embarrassed cough.

“Yeah, sure, whatever, just keep it down!” He shouted at her. “And just so you’re aware, I am keeping an eye on you!”

“Then I hope you get a good view!”

“What?!” He watched her scamper away, giggling cheekily.

“No, wait, I’m actually confused! Ack!” He groaned to himself. Somehow he could sense that he would be in even deeper trouble because of the bargain he had just made.

He followed Squirrelpaw into the shadows that lay thickly under the trees, feeling a shiver of fear at the thought of what might be watching them, unseen. But the forest around him was no darker or more threatening than the half-offered prophecy. If the trouble that was coming to the forest was as serious as Bluestar had said, then Brambleclaw was in great danger of making a fatal mistake simply because he did not know enough, and that very real consequence crawled disturbingly under his pelt. The fate of the Clans truly laid in his paws, now.

Chapter Text

“This isn’t the quickest way to Fourtrees.” Squirrelpaw protested when Brambleclaw paused at the edge of a bramble thicket. She flicked her tail. “We should be going that way.”

“Fine.” Brambleclaw growled. “Go that way, if you feel like taking a swim. This way the stream is narrower, and there’s a rock we can use to jump across.”

“Oh… okay.” Squirrelpaw looked downcast. Brambleclaw felt a pinch of compassion for her. After learning of her situation with her father on the night of the previous new moon, he had begun to see the brash apprentice in a new light. He still wasn’t all too fond of her, but he had started to notice similarities and rapports he never would’ve considered them sharing before the revelation, and it fed the flames of his desire to keep her safe on this journey all the more.

“Come on.” He encouraged lightly, touching his tail to her shoulder. They raced off through the trees side-by-side.

As they came to the stream, Brambleclaw turned to the molly. “Be careful. It’s dark and the rock will be slippery.”

“No, really?” Squirrelpaw meowed bitterly. She marched past him and leapt onto the stone, bounding across it and to the other side, then continued on without waiting for him.

Brambleclaw let out a hiss of annoyance, but couldn’t bring himself to actually be upset with her, feeling bad that had essentially tried to coddle her exactly like Firestar. He raced to catch up with her.

He was partially winded when he finally did, stumbling to a slow and walking beside her with heavy paws and a heaving chest.

“You’re fast.” He remarked through his pants. Squirrelpaw gave him no answer.

Brambleclaw looked away from her and focused his attention back on the forest, until his ears were met with a quiet rumble.

His head flashed to the sky. “Was that thunder?” He asked, though he couldn’t see a single gray cloud against the sea of night.

“No.” Squirrelpaw sighed with faint exasperation, and there was another rumble.

“Ohhhhh.” Brambleclaw mewed in realization, flushing out of embarrassment of his stupidity. He glanced at Squirrelpaw. “Hungry?”

The ginger molly also seemed rather chagrined, her face reddened and puffed out. “No, I’m not hungry. That’s just the thunderstorm living inside me. No need to worry.” She shot him a scornful glare.

“Okay, I know, dumb question. We can stop real quick if you want.” He offered.

“No, it’s fine.” She snarled with more venom. “Don’t want to be late because of me!” She stormed forward again, her eyes glossing over with moisture.

“Squirrel, wait!” Brambleclaw chased after her. “Look, I’m sorry I made it sound like I thought you were incapable.” He began to slow. “I just wanted to look out for you.” The words came out nearly a whisper.

Squirrelpaw stopped, letting out a sigh. “It’s not you.” She mewed. “I just wish cats wouldn’t be so quick to disregard me.” She paused for a heartbeat, wiping a paw at her eyes. “I know I’m small, and silly, and… rash, but,” she looked back at Brambleclaw, “I’m so much more than that.” Her voice was low and cracking. “I just want them all to see it.” Her whole body sank, her nose turned to the ground, and a tiny stream of tears flowed down her muzzle.

Brambleclaw stared at her. He never thought he would ever see her so vulnerable—so defeated, but now that he had, he wanted it to end. He wanted to bring her close, to tell her everything was going to be okay; tell her that he was here for her, and that he always would be.

“I mean, you’d think being a leader’s daughter would get me just a little more respect.” Squirrelpaw went on, dabbing at her face again. “But I guess I can’t really blame them. Not even the leader himself believes in me.”

“Hey, from one leader’s kit to another,” Brambleclaw started, “it doesn’t always help.”

Squirrelpaw opened her mouth to respond, but then her belly complained again, and she snapped her jaws shut, glaring harshly at Brambleclaw as if daring him to laugh at her.

He laughed anyway.

“Sorry.” He meowed with a chuckle. “I should’ve reminded you to eat something before leaving, but I wasn’t very hungry myself.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t be either if I’d eaten half the prey-pile!”

“It wasn’t half!” Brambleclaw defended. “It was like… a third…”

Squirrelpaw raised a brow at him. “That’s still a lot.”

“I just thought it would do us good to store up our energy before the quest.” He sulked.

Squirrelpaw giggled. “Yeah, well you could’ve done that without receiving Mousefur’s wrath.”

Brambleclaw groaned. “She called me a big eater.”

Squirrelpaw burst into laughter, and Brambleclaw grinned at her returned joyfulness.

There was suddenly a rustling behind them.

Both cats spun around in a fright. Brambleclaw shared a glance with Squirrelpaw, then he cautiously stepped toward the trembling bushes, sliding out his claws as he got closer. He felt Squirrelpaw’s presence behind him, mimicking his moves.

When Brambleclaw was towering over the foliage, his broad shadow darkening the leaves an even deeper green, the shaking stopped, and a high-pitched, agitated voice screamed out.

“Move your oversized rump out of my way, you badger!”

Brambleclaw’s ears instantly pulled back in offense, his fur spiking out. He knew exactly who the voice belonged to, even before her scent entered his nose, and it made anger flame within him.

“Leafpaw!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

The tabby molly strolled out of the bushes, her tail high and eyes sharp with judgment. “I came to stop you.”

Brambleclaw’s head snapped to Squirrelpaw, his eyes burning in outrage. “You told her?!” He yowled. “I told you not to tell any-cat!”

Squirrelpaw spun to face him. “I did not!” She hollered back. “I never said a word to her!”

“Then how does she know what we’re doing?!” Brambleclaw retaliated.

“I don’t know!”

“She didn’t tell me anything!” Leafpaw spat out, fixing Brambleclaw with her hateful glare. “But she didn’t need to. I just… knew.” Her eyes met Squirrelpaw’s, and the younger sister’s gaze shone with what appeared to Brambleclaw as understanding, but he was just confused.

“So you know everything?” He asked, his tone rising in unease. “About the dreams, and the journey to the sun-drown-place?”

Leafpaw looked at him deadpanned. “I do now.” She meowed pointedly.

Brambleclaw shrunk. “Oops.”

Leafpaw rolled her eyes. “So what is this about dreams and a sun… place… what?” She turned to Squirrelpaw. “And what does it have to do with you?”

Squirrelpaw immediately dove into explaining everything to her sister. “Brambleclaw had a weird dream of Bluestar speaking with him and telling him the Clans were doomed, and he had to save them with three other cats from the other Clans, and now we’re going to the sun-drown-place to find out how to stop it because of another dream he had where he was drowning and there was lots of water, and the sun, and a cave with huge stone teeth, and-”

“Okay, thank you, I get it.” Leafpaw flicked her tail to her sister’s nose to hush her. She shifted her attention back on Brambleclaw, her gaze skeptical. “So you’re leaving because of a dream you had?”

“A StarClan dream.” He muttered.

The medicine cat apprentice scoffed. “Like StarClan would ever trust you with anything.”

Anger rose up in Brambleclaw’s chest, but was quickly snuffed out by doubt. He hated that her words echoed his own insecurities about being chosen for this quest over more important figures, a feeling that haunted him long after his resolve to partake in the journey despite limited information. He silently hoped she wasn’t truly onto something.

“Did you also have a dream?” Leafpaw questioned Squirrelpaw. Her sister shook her head. “Then why are you going with him and three other complete strangers?”

“Actually it’s four others, and they’re not strangers. One is Brambleclaw’s own sister.” Squirrelpaw corrected.

“But you don’t need to go!” Leafpaw erupted. “You didn’t share the dream; it’s not your journey to take!”

“Yes it is!” Squirrelpaw countered, her tail fluffing up. “I have to go! I can’t stay here! You know how Daddy treats me. This is the best opportunity I have to prove myself, and if I don’t take it… I might never get another chance.”

“Squirrely, I understand,” Leafpaw mewed, her voice softening, “but running away from home to travel somewhere far away with warriors from other Clans isn’t going to change Daddy’s mind. It’ll just make things worse.”

“That’s what I said!” Brambleclaw blurted out. Both sisters scowled at him, and he smiled sheepishly.

“Please come back to camp with me.” Leafpaw begged, shaking off Brambleclaw’s interruption. “I’ll talk to Daddy and make him understand, too, and Mom can help talk sense into him as well. You really don’t have to go.” The molly stared at her sister earnestly, her amber eyes glowing with pained desperation.

Squirrelpaw’s eyes fell to the ground. “I’m sorry, Leaf, but I’m going. I have to do this.”

Leafpaw stared at her in shock for a moment, but eventually surrendered a long sigh. “Okay.” She padded back to the bushes and retrieved a bundle of herbs. She placed them at her sister’s paws. “Then you’ll need these.” She said, and at Squirrelpaw’s questioning look she added, “I knew you were hungry, too.”

“Thanks,” Squirrelpaw mewed, “but you do know that non-sick cats don’t have to eat herbs, right?”

Leafpaw hissed exasperation. “They’re traveling herbs! They’re meant to stifle hunger.”

“Oh!” The green-eyed apprentice began chewing the plants graciously, her face contorting as their bitter taste filled her mouth.

“Even if you don’t have a medicine cat with you, you can still find herbs as you go along. Don’t forget marigold for wounds,” Leafpaw instructed, “and tansy for coughs. Oh! And juniper berries for bellyache. And borage leaves are best for fever, if you can find any.” She sounded as if she were trying to pass on the whole of her training in the few moments she had left.

“We won’t forget.” Squirrelpaw promised, her words muffled by her mouthful. Swallowing, she looked up at Leafpaw. “Mmm, delicious.” She grinned weakly. Brambleclaw chuckled, and Leafpaw faintly smiled at Squirrelpaw, but her eyes glazed over with sadness.

Squirrelpaw padded to her sister. “I’ll be okay, Leafy.” Brambleclaw was amazed at the gentleness of her voice, and the way she reassuringly pressed her nose to Leafpaw’s side. “But I’ve got to do this. I’ll miss you… I love you.”

Brambleclaw heard a purr rumble in Leafpaw’s throat, and she licked Squirrelpaw between the ears. “I love you too.” She rasped.

Brambleclaw felt himself getting teary-eyed, and he glanced away from the tender exchange.

After a couple more moments of farewell, Squirrelpaw pulled away from her sister. She flicked her tail. “Come on, Brambleclaw.” She began to trot away. As she passed, Brambleclaw walked closer to Leafpaw.

“You knew you weren’t going to actually convince her.” He meowed evenly.

“I had to at least try.” She mewed softly, not looking at him.

“Are you going to tell Firestar?” He asked her. “If you haven’t already.”

“I can’t just say nothing.” She said. “He’ll be so worried; both my parents will, and I’m sure your mother will be too.”

Brambleclaw’s heart lurched, and his eyes felt damp again. He could imagine clear as day how his mother would react when she awoke in the morning to discover that her baby was nowhere to be found; he could already hear her sobs bellowing in his ears.

“Alright. Since I don’t know exactly how long this journey is supposed to take, if we’re not back by the next new moon, then you can tell them. How’s that sound?”

“Acceptable.” Leafpaw still stared at the ground.

“…I’ll look after her.” Brambleclaw said in a quiet rush, foreign sympathy for the younger tabby piercing his heart, sharp as thorns. “I’ll bring her back, safe. I promise.”

Leafpaw looked up at him. “Really?” Brambleclaw nodded.

She lowered her shoulders in acceptance, but her eyes gleamed harshly again. “You’d better.” She spat, and she flicked her tail crossly, finally turning to leave.

Brambleclaw did the same, catching up with Squirrelpaw. As they continued toward Fourtrees, he glanced back to see Leafpaw watching them, a motionless light brown figure against the ferns. Then, she retreated swiftly, and the undergrowth swallowed her up without a sign that she had been there.

Squirrelpaw was unusually quiet as Brambleclaw and her headed up the last of the slope, and they reached the edge of the hollow.

Brambleclaw paused, sweeping his tail to hold Squirrelpaw back so she wouldn’t go dashing into the clearing before they knew what they would find there. Drinking in the air, he could taste the mingled scents of the three other Clans, and when he looked down the slope he saw Tawnypelt, Feathertail, and Stormfur sitting at the base of the Great Rock, while Crowpaw paced restlessly up and down in front of them.

“At last!” Tawnypelt sprang to her paws as Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw burst out of the bushes at the foot of the slope. “We were startin’ to think y’all weren’t gonna come.” She meowed with a laugh.

“Sorry.” Brambleclaw apologized, rubbing muzzles with his sister. “We got… preoccupied.”

“What’s she doing here?” Crowpaw demanded, glaring at Squirrelpaw.

Squirrelpaw returned the glare, her neck fur bristling in anger, and raised her head proudly. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?!” Crowpaw exclaimed, his tail lashing. He glared talons at Brambleclaw. “But she wasn’t chosen by StarClan!”

“He’s not chosen, either.” Squirrelpaw deflected, indicating Stormfur, the latter of whom became very confused at the sudden attention. “Don’t tell me he’s just here to say goodbye to his sister; I know he’s coming, too. And speak to me directly if you have a problem with me.” She narrowed her eyes at Crowpaw. “Brambleclaw is not my keeper.”

Brambleclaw was somewhat proud of Squirrelpaw’s blunt defense of herself; she really could stand on her own paws and didn’t need any-cat to make decisions for her, and she was never afraid to make her voice heard when faced with adversity—it was actually an inspiring trait of hers, and honestly Brambleclaw felt like biting Crowpaw’s tongue off for trying to insult the molly’s agency.

“She’s coming, and that’s that.” His patience was rapidly running out. At this rate the mission would fall apart in bickering and bad temper before it had even started. He glanced at Tawnypelt.

The tortoiseshell shrugged. “That’s fine with me. I like her.”

Brambleclaw nodded at her as she started to walk away. “Right. Then let’s get going.”

“Don’t order me around!” Crowpaw snapped.

Both Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt shot the apprentice firm stares, and to their relief he backed down, getting to his paws and turning his back on Squirrelpaw as if she didn’t exist.

“Pity you can’t leave your Clan without dragging along a burr in your pelt.” He jeered at Brambleclaw. The tabby snarled at him, making the smaller tom jump.

The two RiverClan cats rose too, and padded up to join the group. “Don’t worry.” Feathertail murmured, touching Squirrelpaw’s shoulder with her nose. “We’re all feeling a bit nervous. It’ll be better once we’re on our way.” Squirrelpaw’s eyes flashed as if she were about to make a sharp reply, but meeting Feathertail’s gentle gaze she clearly thought better of it, and dipped her head, her neck fur beginning to lie flat again.

As if obeying an unspoken command, all six cats padded through the bushes to the top of the slope, emerging at the edge of WindClan territory. When Brambleclaw looked out on the moorland hills—the tough, springy grass ruffling in the wind like the fur of a huge animal—his heart pounded until he thought it would burst right out of his chest. This was the moment he had been waiting for, ever since Bluestar had spoken to him in his dream. The time of the new prophecy was here. The journey had begun!

But as he reached out a paw to take his first steps across the moor, he stopped, the memory of Mudclaw’s threat pouring into his mind, and his heart began to race with worry and fear. If he crossed the border, would WindClan know? There could be a patrol out, and even if the group wasn’t caught trespassing, his scent might carry on the breeze, alerting the Clan, and they would have his head.

He knew Mudclaw hadn’t been lying when he’d threatened Brambleclaw; the deputy had meant every word he’d said, and it was terrifying.

Brambleclaw’s insides churned and twisted nauseatingly as he stared out at the billowing grass. They wanted him dead, just because they saw Tigerstar in him, or rather, as him. But he understood why they feared him; Tigerstar had hurt them, attacked them and killed one of their own, and sometimes Brambleclaw questioned if he really was destined to become his father after all, and his constant, desperate attempts to prove his innocence were only his own ploy to fool himself, because he didn’t want to face the truth.

He didn’t know how long he had been standing there, rigid and silent, but it must’ve been long enough to freak out his companions.

“Brambs, are you okay?” Asked Stormfur. He was standing close by, but his words sounded so distant to Brambleclaw’s ears. “What’s wrong? You’re not moving.”

When Brambleclaw didn’t answer, Tawnypelt padded to his side, brushing against him. “Are ya feelin’ alright? You’re lookin’ a bit peaked.”

Brambleclaw opened his jaws to respond, but then closed them. He didn’t know how to tell his sister that her baby brother had been terrorized by the deputy of WindClan and couldn’t cross the territory because he was now scared for his life; she would fly into a rage and probably sprint to WindClan’s camp to sink her claws in Mudclaw’s throat, screaming at him that he would pay and that she was actually who he should be afraid of, and somehow that thought was even more unsettling.

“They won’t know you’ve crossed the border.” Crowpaw mewed briskly. “The night patrols should have already returned to camp by now, and if we move quickly it’ll be like you were never here. Plus, it’ll be difficult for them to pick out your exact scent surrounded by so many cats. You’ll be fine.” Brambleclaw was surprised to hear a slight change in the apprentice’s tone at his last words—it had a vague semblance of sympathy.

Brambleclaw gave Crowpaw a curt nod. Then, taking a breath, he lightly tread forward, and soon he was trotting across the moorland. The others followed after.

“Hold on!” Tawnypelt screeched. Brambleclaw turned back to see his sister jump in front of Crowpaw. “What was that about?” She snarled, getting in the apprentice’s face. Crowpaw was startled, but he stood strong, locking Tawnypelt’s burning eyes with his.

“Tawn, it’s okay. It’s nothing serious.” Brambleclaw swiftly interjected. “Come on. Let’s just keep going.” He started to walk away again, but his littermate stopped him with a howl.

“No!” She rounded on Crowpaw for a second time. “Tell me why Brambs was afraid. Now!” At that moment her pale ginger-and-brown tabby pelt spiked up, and her lime green eyes blazed with protective fury. “What did ya do to him?!”

“Tawnypelt, please let it go!” Brambleclaw begged. “It’s not worth it. I just wanna get outta here!” He could feel the tears rising in his eyes.

Crowpaw opened his mouth slowly. “I didn’t do anything! Stop yelling at me!” Then he looked away from the tortoiseshell. This only made Tawnypelt bristle further, and she dug her claws into the soft ground, gritting her teeth so hard it seemed as though they would crack.

Suddenly, Squirrelpaw bounded up. “It was at our border patrol last moon!” She exclaimed. “He attacked Brambleclaw, and Mudclaw told Brambleclaw not to cross into WindClan territory or he’d kill him!”

“Hey!” Crowpaw shouted, glaring fiercely at the ginger molly. “That was none of your business to tell!” Squirrelpaw just straightened up in triumph.

Tawnypelt roared a battle cry, and she leapt at Crowpaw. The dark tom gasped in terror.

“Tawnypelt, stop!” Feathertail flew between the two cats. Tawnypelt thankfully halted before she could slam into her friend. Feathertail glared at her with stern, cerulean eyes.

Tawnypelt hissed, but she backed down. Flicking her tail, she looked behind the gray tabby to shoot Crowpaw a dangerous stare.

“Stay away from us.” She growled threateningly. Then, she stomped away from them, and up to Brambleclaw. She grabbed him by the ear and started pulling him along. Brambleclaw winced, but he didn’t protest. He was completely shaken by what had just occurred.

A long silence passed as the group traversed the moorland, the twins in the lead, Squirrelpaw behind them, and Stormfur, Feathertail, and Crowpaw at the rear.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Brambleclaw whispered to Tawnypelt. His sister gave him a sharp look.

“Yeah I did.”

Brambleclaw stared at his paws. He was pierced by a sharp pang of regret for everything he was leaving behind—the familiar forest, his place in the Clan, his family. From now on, everything would be different.

Can we really live by the Warrior Code outside the forest? He wondered. Glancing back to the dark line of the trees, he added silently, Will any of us ever see our Clans again?

Brambleclaw crouched in the shelter of a hedge and looked down at the clustered buildings of a Twoleg farm. Behind him, the others shifted restlessly.

“What are we waiting for?” Crowpaw demanded.

“That’s the barn where Ravenpaw and Barley live.” Brambleclaw replied, indicating it with his tail.

“Yeah, I know.” Meowed the WindClan cat testily. “Mudclaw took me there when I made my apprentice journey to Highstones. We’re not stopping there now, are we?”

“I think perhaps we should.” Brambleclaw was careful not to sound as if he were giving the touchy apprentice an order. “Ravenpaw knows about the sun-drown-place. He might be able to tell us something useful.”

“And his barn is crawlin’ with mice.” Tawnypelt swept her tongue around her whiskers.

“We could do worse than spend the night there.” Brambleclaw agreed. “A couple of good meals will help to build up our strength.”

“But we could easily make Highstones before morning if we keep going.” Crowpaw pointed out. Brambleclaw suspected uncharitably that the younger tom was arguing just for the sake of it.

“I still think it might be best if we stay here for tonight.” He meowed. “This way we’ll get to Highstones in the morning, with most of the day to get a good start in unknown territory.”

“Would you rather sleep on bare stone with no prey,” Stormfur murmured, “or warm and comfortable with a full belly? I vote for Barley’s barn.”

“Me too!” Squirrelpaw mewed.

“You don’t get a vote.” Crowpaw snorted.

Squirrelpaw refused to be crushed. Green eyes gleaming with anticipation, she sprang to her paws. “Let’s go!”

“No, wait.” Feathertail pushed in front of the eager apprentice a heartbeat before Brambleclaw. “There are rats around here. We have to be careful.”

“Dogs, too.” Tawnypelt added.

“Oh. Okay.” Brambleclaw remembered that Squirrelpaw hadn’t yet made the journey that all the apprentices took to Highstones before they could be made into warriors. In fact, this must be the first time she had left ThunderClan territory beyond Fourtrees. Subconsciously, he admitted that she had done well so far, crossing WindClan territory without fuss and being sensible. Perhaps she would cope better than he first feared with the longer path that lay ahead of them.

Brambleclaw emerged from the hedge and led the way past the farm buildings toward the barn. He froze briefly when he heard the barking of a dog, but it sounded distant, and the scent that came to him was faint.

“Get on, if we’re going.” Crowpaw muttered just below his shoulder.

The barn was some way away from the main Twoleg nest. There were holes in the roof, and the door sagged on its supports. Brambleclaw approached warily and sniffed at a gap at the bottom of the door. The scent of mouse flooded his senses; his mouth started to water and he had to concentrate hard to distinguish the cat scent that was almost drowned out.

A familiar voice spoke from inside. “Is that ThunderClan I smell?” It was Ravenpaw.

Brambleclaw waited as the door creaked open further, and a black pelt slipped out. Seeing the massive brown tabby, Ravenpaw flinched back, but quickly recovered when he realized who the cat was, and he smiled in greeting. However, Brambleclaw sunk his claws into the ground in anxiousness; he knew who Ravenpaw had thought he was.

“Welcome. It’s good to see you again, Brambleclaw. And you’ve brought friends! Please, come inside.” The loner stepped back into the barn.

Brambleclaw and his companions all slid through the gap one after the other. They saw the sleek tom standing before them. His mate Barley, a black-and-white tom with a blue cloth around his neck, was crouched a pace or two behind, his eyes widening warily as all the cats filed in. He realized that the large tom had probably not seen so many cats since he came to the forest to help the Clans fight against BloodClan, four seasons ago.

“I took your advice, Ravenpaw.” Brambleclaw meowed. “I think StarClan sent me the dream because they want me to travel to the sun-drown-place. These are the cats StarClan has chosen to go as well.”

“Some of us are.” Crowpaw mumbled disagreeably.

Brambleclaw ignored him, and introduced the rest of the cats to Ravenpaw and Barley. The older loner merely dipped his head in greeting with a low “Howdy,” then slid away into the shadowy depths of the barn.

“Don’t mind Barley.” Ravenpaw meowed. “It’s not often we have so many visitors all at once. So this is Squirrelpaw.” He went on, touching noses to greet the young apprentice. “Firestar’s daughter! I’ve seen you before, when you were a kit in the nursery with Sandstorm, but you probably don’t remember that. I said then that you would look just like your father, and now I see I was right.”

Squirrelpaw scuffled her paws in embarrassment; Brambleclaw guessed she was for once lost for words to meet this cat who had played such a large part in the history of her Clan.

“What does Firestar think about the journey?” Ravenpaw asked Brambleclaw. “I’m surprised he let Squirrelpaw go so far when she isn’t a warrior yet.”

Brambleclaw and Squirrelpaw exchanged an uneasy glance.

“It wasn’t quite like that.” Brambleclaw admitted. “We left without telling him.”

Ravenpaw’s eyes widened with shock, and for a heartbeat Brambleclaw wondered if he would send them away.

But Ravenpaw only shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that you couldn’t tell him what’s going on.” He said. “Perhaps you’ll tell me more when you’ve eaten. Are you all hungry?”

“Starvin’!” Tawnypelt exclaimed.

A mew of laughter escaped Ravenpaw. “Feel free to hunt.” He invited them. “There are plenty of mice.”

A short time later, Brambleclaw was curled up comfortably in the straw, his belly stuffed full of mice that had almost lined up to leap into his mouth. If Ravenpaw and Barley ate like this every day, it was no wonder they looked so strong and healthy.

The other prophecy cats were sprawled around him, equally as full. He saw Crowpaw push a half-eaten mouse away from himself.

“Ugh. I’ve never eaten so many mice in one sitting, and I will never, ever, do it again.” He laid his head on his paws, his face scrunched in discomfort. Feathertail purred at him, and placed her tail on the apprentice’s back to alleviate him. Crowpaw shifted slightly, but ultimately settled into the molly’s embrace.

Brambleclaw smiled at the scene. His ears pricked to soak in the sounds creeping through the barn. All around he could hear scuffling noises and faint squeaking in the straw, as if their hunt had made no difference at all to the number of prey.

“If you don’t mind, we’ll sleep here tonight and leave first thing in the morning.” Brambleclaw meowed to Ravenpaw as the black tom padded up to him.

The loner nodded. “I’ll come with you as far as Highstones.” Before Brambleclaw could protest that there was no need, he went on. “There are even more Twolegs than before around the Thunderpath. I’ve been keeping an eye on them, so I know the safest ways to go.”

Brambleclaw thanked him, only to hear Crowpaw mutter from his side across from him. “Can we trust him?”

Ravenpaw’s ear twitched; he had obviously heard the remark. Brambleclaw thought he was going to sink through the floor with embarrassment, and Squirrelpaw lifted her head to aim a furious hiss at Crowpaw.

“Don’t be angry with him.” Ravenpaw mewed. “That’s good thinking, Crowpaw. Thinking like a warrior, in fact. Where you’re going, you must trust nothing and no cat without very good reason.”

Crowpaw ducked his head, looking pleased at the loner’s praise.

“But you can trust me.” Ravenpaw continued. “I may not be able to do much to help with the rest of your journey, but at least I can see that you get to Highstones safely.”

Crowpaw actually seemed to consider the words, then presented Ravenpaw with a brisk nod.

Brambleclaw stretched and gave a wide yawn. Sleep was beginning to make its presence known, and he noticed that the others were also starting to get tired. Stormfur pressed himself into his sister’s pelt, closing his eyes. Feathertail laid her head atop his, and Crowpaw had already drifted into slumber, his breathing shallow.

Brambleclaw prepared himself to fall asleep as well, feeling the warm pelts of Tawnypelt and Squirrelpaw on either side of him.

“Uh, Brambleclaw.” Ravenpaw mewed quietly, but hesitantly. “Before you go to sleep, may I talk with you? Privately?”

Brambleclaw lifted his head, staring at the small tom quizzically. “Um, sure.” He got up to follow Ravenpaw as the former Clan cat led him behind a pile of hay.

“So, what’s up?” He asked as he sat behind the hay with Ravenpaw.

“Well… I just wanted to apologize for my fearful reaction earlier when I first saw you, and the day I came to visit Firestar.” The tom said, shuffling his paws. “I felt bad about it.”

Brambleclaw’s belly clenched dreadfully at what he knew Ravenpaw was going to say next.

“I had mistaken you for… someone else.” His voice dropped to a whisper as he mumbled those last words.

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Brambleclaw mewed uncomfortably, his throat tightening at the confirmation that Ravenpaw had seen him for Tigerstar both times they had met.

“No, don’t be.” Ravenpaw meowed with hast, his eyes glazing fretfully. “I’m the one who jumped to conclusions.”

There was a long pause after that, but soon Brambleclaw forced himself to speak.

“I’m sorry my father hurt you.” He mewed softly, his voice almost shaking.

“Again, don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” The black cat said, trying to be reassuring. “Please don’t blame yourself on my behalf.”

When Brambleclaw didn’t answer, Ravenpaw reached out his tail to brush the tabby’s shoulder comfortingly, but Brambleclaw shrugged it off.

“I don’t need sympathy.” He told the other tom. He recognized that his tone had been a bit too harsh, and could see the hurt in Ravenpaw’s eyes, but he couldn’t help the rudeness; he really didn’t like to be touched when he was upset.

“I’m… going to go to sleep, now.” Brambleclaw got back on his paws. Ravenpaw nodded at him as he passed, slipping in a “Good night.”

Brambleclaw settled back into his spot between Squirrelpaw and Tawnypelt.

“Brambleclaw?” Squirrelpaw mewed drowsily.

“Yeah. Sorry. Go back to sleep, Squirrel.”

“You said it again.” She gasped, and a delighted grin appeared.

“Said what?”

“You called me ‘Squirrel’.”

“Oh… Is that okay?”

“Yeah.” She looked away rather shyly. “You just… haven’t called me that in a while.”

“Right. I just didn’t think we were that close.” He stared down. “We’ve never really gotten along.”

Squirrelpaw seemed as though she wanted to refute that, but she clearly changed her mind, instead leaning into his fur.

“…But, you can call me ‘Brambs’, if you want.”

“Really?” She meowed eagerly.

He nodded. “It’s only fair.”

“Does that mean I can call you ‘Brambsie’ too?”

He glared at her.

“Okay, fine. That one’s reserved for Tawn, huh?”

He rolled his eyes with a growl, laying his head down. She giggled.

“Seriously, Squirrel, go to sleep.”

She happily obliged, and he wrapped his tail around her, falling into silence until light spilled into the barn to awaken them the next morning.

Chapter Text

Wind struck Crowpaw squarely in the face, flattening his pelt to his sides and almost carrying him off his paws. He breathed in the cool breeze: it reminded him of home, and an intense feeling of homesickness struck him like a bolt of lightning. It had only been a day, but already the apprentice was missing all that he had left behind—his mother, his mentor, his whole way of life, and he didn’t know when he would be able to return to it, if ever.

Worst of all, he was stuck traveling with a band of obnoxious fox-hearts! Squirrelpaw could never stop talking and was always giving him rude glares and looking to pick fights with him at every opportunity, and Tawnypelt was being incredibly hostile since her outburst at him while trying to cross WindClan territory, which hadn’t even been his fault! And even if it had been, he wasn’t in control of Brambleclaw deciding to be a little kit about it and getting his brute of a sister involved! And speaking of Brambleclaw, Crowpaw thought bitterly, I’ve never met a cat with a bigger ego. He thinks he can just boss me around like it’s nobody’s business! Well I’ll show him!

Deadfoot had warned Crowpaw of Tigerstar’s kits being chosen for this quest, a choice that posed an even greater threat to the Clans than the very prophecy withholding their fates.

“I’m not supposed to tell you this,” Deadfoot’s urgent words murmured in his mind, “but two of the other Clan representatives have foolishly chosen kits of Tigerstar to partake in this prophecy. I tried to stop them, reason with them, but they remained unmoving. It’s a very disheartening thought.” Deadfoot lowered his head solemnly. Then, limping closer to Crowpaw, touched a cold nose to his son’s forehead. “Therefore, I am putting all my trust, and all the trust of our ancestors, in you, my son, to carry out this mission—to ensure its victory. I have no doubt in my mind that his kin are already plotting something grim. They will want to bend the prophecy to their own evil desires, and you mustn’t let them. You must prevail. I know you can do it.” He nuzzled Crowpaw’s cheek.

Crowpaw looked up at the warrior. “I won’t let you down, Father.” Deadfoot just smiled at him.

Then, fog rose up suddenly and concealed them both. Crowpaw tried to bat it away, but when it finally cleared Deadfoot was gone, and Crowpaw woke up in his camp, the sun having just risen above the horizon.

But he understood his mission: he was going to lead his fellow chosen on a daring quest to stop whatever darkness threatened to destroy the Clans, putting an end to the plans of Tigerstar’s kits, and he was going to succeed—no matter what.

“Hi, Crowpaw. How are you doing?” The apprentice was yanked from his thoughts by the soft mew. He shifted his gaze to the gorgeous molly.

Feathertail was walking beside him, her brother Stormfur on her other side.

They were the only cats on this journey that didn’t make Crowpaw want to slash them with his claws.

Stormfur mostly kept to himself, only interacting with his sister and apparent foster siblings. Though the fact that the chubby warrior was best friends with Brambleclaw was cause for alarm, and he occasionally sent Crowpaw sharp glares whenever the apprentice challenged the tabby’s authority.

Feathertail on the other paw, Crowpaw wasn’t even sure was real. She was the sweetest cat he had ever met, a glittering pool of water amidst a dark, treacherous forest. Whenever she talked it was like a gentle breeze blowing snowflakes into his ears and down to melt into his heart, and her scent was as soft as the feathers she was named for, and despite her roundness she walked as light and airy as if she were stepping on clouds. He couldn’t imagine a more beautiful sight.

And it was that sight now which captured his eyes in a sea of mesmerizing blue as Feathertail stared at him with a deep, heartwarming concern.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” His heart sank as he realized why she was asking, bringing back the homesickness he had felt just before.

He had confided in Feathertail about it when they had left WindClan territory the previous night, as she had taken notice of his change in demeanor.

At first he had been annoyed and frustrated at himself for openly showing vulnerability, and had been reluctant to share with a cat from another Clan the reasoning behind it, but quickly altered his tune as he began to confess, and especially when Feathertail actually listened and understood him, proceeding to give him advice and saying she would always be there if he needed to talk about it again, or for any other problem he might have.

And then, she smiled at him; just like she was doing now.

“Don’t worry. Everything is going to be alright. I’ll be here with you the entire way.”

Crowpaw was too starstruck to say anything in return, so he just nodded, as stupid as the response looked.

He knew it to be against the code to feel this way about a cat from another Clan, but he couldn’t ignore the warm, fluttering sensation he got when around her, or talking to her, or even just thinking about her. She made him feel… happy, and he didn’t care what the code had to say about it.

He unsheathed his claws to steady himself as another strong wind blew, and they scraped against bare rock. He and his nuisances were standing on the summit of Highstones, gazing out over endless, unknown territories.

They had set out in the first faint light of dawn and reached the stony slopes well before sunhigh, led swiftly by Ravenpaw. The barn cat stood beside Brambleclaw now, his ears pricked into the distance.

“You’ll avoid that tangle of Thunderpaths.” He meowed, pointing with his tail to the thick gray smudge in the landscape. “Just as well. That’s the place where WindClan took refuge when Brokenstar drove them out. It’s full of rats and carrion.”

“I know about that!” Squirrelpaw put in. “Uncle Gray told me how he and Firestar went to fetch WindClan back.”

“There are many smaller Thunderpaths to cross,” Ravenpaw went on, “and Twoleg nests to avoid. I’ve traveled that way now and again—not far, but far enough to know that it’s not a place for warriors.”

Squirrelpaw shot a nervous glance at Ravenpaw. “Is there no more forest at all?” She asked.

“Not that I saw.”

“Don’t worry.” Brambleclaw meowed reassuringly. “I’ll be right by your side.” He went to stand next to her. Squirrelpaw looked up at him gratefully, but her eyes were still troubled.

Feathertail exchanged a glance with Stormfur, and then padded to Squirrelpaw’s other side. “I’m nervous, too.” She admitted. “I get shivers all along my spine when I think of being so close to all those Twolegs. But StarClan will bring us through.” Squirrelpaw nodded, brightening up at the added support.

“If you’ve all quite finished,” Crowpaw mewed loudly, his patience running thin, “it’s time we were moving.”

“Okay.” Brambleclaw turned to Ravenpaw. “Thank you for everything.” He meowed. “It makes a difference that you understand why we are doing this.”

The loner dipped his head. “Think nothing of it. Good luck, all of you, and may StarClan light your path.” He stood aside, and one by one the six cats began to pick their way down the far slope of the hill. The rising sun cast long blue shadows in front of them as they took the first steps on the longest journey of their lives.

Crowpaw heaved a sigh of relief to come down from Highstones and feel grass under his paws again.

They were alone now, a tiny troop of cats in a vast, unknown territory, setting out on a path across fields divided by sharp, shiny Twoleg fences, and there were many scents of Twolegs and dogs, though none of them were fresh. Wooly-faced sheep stared at the traveling cats as they slipped past, their heads low and their ears flat, uncomfortable at being out in the open.

“You’d think they’d never seen a cat before.” Stormfur grunted.

“Maybe they haven’t.” Tawnypelt replied. “There’s no reason for cats to come here. I haven’t had so much as a sniff of prey since we left the barn.”

“Well, I’ve never seen a sheep before.” Squirrelpaw pointed out. She padded a little closer to the nearest one, and Brambleclaw unobtrusively moved up behind her.

Squirrelpaw paused a tail-length away, took a good sniff, and wrinkled her nose. “Yuck! They might look like fluffy clouds on legs, but they smell horrible!”

Crowpaw groaned. “Can we get on, for the love of StarClan?” He really wanted to get away from the grazing animals, as his homesickness was becoming more fierce.

He had seen sheep before: there was a herd of them down the hill from WindClan’s camp. His mother had taken him to see them when he was a kit, and he remembered spending the day frolicking about, mimicking the sheep, Ashfoot playing with him, until he had exhausted himself and fallen asleep in the field curled up with her.

He could recall her watchful, loving eyes. She was very protective of him, and he hated to think how she was reacting to her only kit being missing, even presumably dead. It was the worst feeling in the world—he missed her so much.

“I wonder why StarClan is sending us to the sun-drown-place.” Feathertail meowed, swerving to avoid a grass-cropping sheep that was too close for comfort. “Why couldn’t they have told us what we need to know back in the forest? And why do we have to hear the message at midnight?”

Crowpaw snorted. “Who knows?” He narrowed his eyes and stared at Brambleclaw. “Maybe the ThunderClan warrior can tell us. After all, he’s the one who’s dragging us along on this wild mouse chase.”

Brambleclaw gritted his teeth. “You know as much as I do.” He meowed. “We just have to trust StarClan that it will all come clear in the end.” He flicked his tail, passing a hard glare to Crowpaw. “And you didn’t have to come. I gave you the option not to.”

“Well I wouldn’t have if I’d thought I was going to have orders barked at me the whole way.” Crowpaw snarled at the large tabby. “Who made you leader, anyway?”

“I’m not trying to be leader.” Brambleclaw hissed, a sparkle of frustration crackling in his eyes. “I just… feel responsible for you all. This was all my idea, and if any of you get injured or killed… it’ll all be my fault…” His demeanor changed as the irritation in his amber moons was washed clear with gleaming tears. Tawnypelt pressed herself against her brother’s side, and Feathertail and Stormfur were giving each other worried glances.

However, Crowpaw wasn’t convinced of the son of Tigerstar’s sincerity, and only found annoyance in his sensitivity.

“Yeah, well, maybe they all want to be led around like ducklings waddling after their mother, but I for one can think on my own, so leave me be!” He scampered forward, and when he had gotten in front of the others, turned back to face them. “Besides, if you should be listening to any-cat it should be me.”

“You!” Tawnypelt burst out. “Why you?” Her eyes narrowed accusingly at him.

“Because- because Deadfoot put me in charge!” Crowpaw announced, holding his head high.

The others reared back, their confusion and mistrust evident.

“Bluestar never mentioned that.” Brambleclaw murmured.

“Neither did Oakheart.” Feathertail spoke up.

“Or Nightstar.” Tawnypelt growled. “Clearly he’s lyin’.”

“It’s not a lie!” Crowpaw shouted. “It’s the truth!”

Tawnypelt laughed at him. “Yeah right! Why would he do that? You’re only an apprentice.”

“I’m almost a warrior!” He snapped back.

“Yeah, almost!” She snarled. “But not now.”

“She’s got a point.” Stormfur added, stepping up to join his sister. “Why should we follow you when Brambleclaw is a full warrior and has been leading us well so far?”

Crowpaw couldn’t believe this. How could they all be so stupid?!

“Feathertail, you don’t want Brambleclaw to lead, right?” He turned to the RiverClan molly, hoping she at least would understand—realize how wrong this was. “You could lead, instead. I’d be fine with that. You’d be a good leader.”

Feathertail blinked at him, her face flushing. “Thank you, Crowpaw, but I don’t mind Brambleclaw leading if he wants to.” She smiled at the tabby beside her. “He kind of just, naturally fell into the role.” Brambleclaw dipped his head appreciatively, and she purred.

Crowpaw’s heart plummeted. Did Feathertail… like Brambleclaw..? His pelt began to burn at the thought: how could she like such a fleapelt? How could she like Tigerstar’s son?! Didn’t she know how horrible that monster of a cat was? Brambleclaw better not have liked her back, otherwise the tall warrior was going to receive a very deep gash down his throat.

“I could be a good leader!” Crowpaw protested, desperation slipping into his tone, much to his chagrin. “If you’d just give me a chance.”

“We don’t got time for chances!” Tawnypelt hollered. “Brambs is already leadin’, and he’s good at it. So drop it before I drop you off a cliff!”

But Crowpaw didn’t feel like dropping it. He needed to make one more thing clear.

“Then I’m not listening to anything he says!” He fixed Brambleclaw with a scorching blue stare. “I don’t take orders from murderers.”

There was a flash in Tawnypelt’s eyes, and he braced himself for the claws that would inevitably strike him down.

“You piece of fox-dung!” Crowpaw was surprised when it was Brambleclaw who thrust forward instead; he honestly had expected the tabby to break down in tears rather than actually stand up for himself.

But there Brambleclaw was: a hulking, dark mass blocking out everything, including the sunlight, casting a long, black shadow over the apprentice. Crowpaw hadn’t realized how truly imposing the ThunderClan warrior was—his taunt muscles rippling furiously, enormous claws that looked as though they could take down a whole badger in one blow prepared to attack, and a petrifying amber stare flaming with hatred in their depths—until he was faced with them only a single inchworm away from his muzzle. Crowpaw would’ve never admitted it out loud, but he was actually scared.

“That’s what this is really about, huh?!” The larger tom spat in Crowpaw’s face. “You want to be leader so bad because you don’t trust me—think I’m just like my father! But if StarClan chose me for this then it clearly wasn’t because of Tigerstar, and must’ve recognized something in me that was worthy of this quest. Unlike you! Deadfoot’s your father, right?” He took a step closer, causing Crowpaw to back up for fear of being pushed to the ground.

“Uh… y-yes.” The apprentice stammered, forcing himself to meet Brambleclaw’s smoldering eyes.

The tabby raised his head, smirking. “Need I say more? You were only chosen because Daddy wanted you to be; not for any special skill, but for just being his son. He doesn’t really believe in you.”

“Yes he does!” Crowpaw defended, his chest heaving with anger. “He said so!”

“Even if that was true, it doesn’t change the fact that your reason for being here is purely nepotism, so let’s get one thing straight-” Brambleclaw bent his head to Crowpaw’s ear. “You are nothing more than Deadfoot’s little Crowkit, and that’s all you’ll ever be.” He let out a final snort, then retracted his head, bunting Crowpaw in the shoulder with a forelimb as he passed, making the gray-black tom stumble.

The others stared on, and Tawnypelt especially seemed in utter disbelief of what had just unfolded, as if even she thought Brambleclaw had gone too far. Yet, she didn’t say anything as she slowly padded past Crowpaw in pursuit of her brother, Stormfur and Squirrelpaw following, though they too looked haunted.

Crowpaw’s eyes bored into the ground, and he breathed heavily through his nose, screaming at himself not to start crying, even though he felt like running home that instant and leaping into his mother’s embrace like a helpless kit and not at all like the warrior he was about to be. He could practically hear Mudclaw’s scornful mew if he saw his apprentice in such a state: “Quit that crying, Crowpaw! You’re training to be a warrior for StarClan’s sake, and a real warrior doesn’t cry! He attacks his enemies valiantly and without weakness! Never show them weakness, or it will be your end.”

Crowpaw choked, fighting back the floodwaters. Even the thought of Mudclaw made him want to collapse into the dirt and sob until his eyes fell out. At this point he actually would’ve preferred for the stone-hearted deputy of WindClan to be in his company; at least his mentor kind of cared about him, as unbelievable as that sounded.

“Crowpaw?” A gentle voice prodded him. “Crowpaw, are you alright?” She came up beside him, her feather-like tail surrounding but not touching him—a floating barrier from any further harm.

He sharply glanced into her sparkling eyes, looking away before she could garner much; he didn’t want to see her face.

“I’m so sorry.” She mewed, touching her nose to his ear. He flattened it. “I don’t know what got into Brambleclaw. He’s never acted that way before…” Her voice trailed off. “But, I’m sure he didn’t mean what all he said—he was just upset at your words… Um, here, I’ll talk to him.” She tried to offer. “Maybe you can take turns leading.”

“I don’t want to take turns.” He growled, and his voice started to shake. “I just wanna go home.” He had never felt more alone in his life; at least in WindClan he had his mother. Here: he had no one.

He hated it there; he hated these stupid cats and this stupid prophecy, but most of all he hated Brambleclaw. That fox-hearted son of that evil, murderous, tyrannical Tigerstar was going to get exactly what was coming for him, Crowpaw would make sure of it.

Not long after sunhigh, they came to their first Thunderpath. It was narrower than the one they were used to, and curved so that they could not see monsters approaching until the last moment. On the opposite side, a tall hedge stretched as far as they could see in both directions.

Crowpaw approached cautiously and sniffed the hard black edge of the Thunderpath. “Ugh!” He exclaimed, wrinkling his nose. “It’s foul stuff. Why do Twolegs spread it all over the place?”

“Their monsters travel on it.” Stormfur told him.

“I know that!” Crowpaw snapped. “Their monsters stink, too.”

Stormfur shrugged. “That’s Twolegs for you.”

“Are we gonna sit here until sunset discussin’ the habits of Twolegs?” Tawnypelt interrupted. “Or are we gonna cross this Thunderpath?”

Brambleclaw crouched on the grass verge, ears pricked to catch the sound of approaching monsters. “When I say ‘now,’ run.” He told Squirrelpaw, who was crouching beside him, though his voice carried an edge to it, not like his usual softer tone when speaking to her. “You’ll be fine.”

Squirrelpaw huffed at her Clanmate, and Crowpaw felt himself internally scoffing at the other tom’s impudence. “I’m not scared, you know.” She hissed.

Brambleclaw tossed her a furious glare. “Don’t you start, too.” He growled darkly, the sound sending chills up Crowpaw’s spine. “I don’t know what Dustpelt has been teaching you, but Thunderpaths are extremely dangerous even for experienced warriors. Cats have died on them many times, so for once in your life just listen to me.” He returned his gaze to the black path.

Squirrelpaw unnaturally didn’t say anything back, only stared at him, her green eyes wide in what seemed to be betrayal. Then she looked at the ground, sorrowful.

Even though he greatly disliked Squirrelpaw, Crowpaw couldn’t deny that Brambleclaw was being far ruder with her than even she deserved, and it gave him just another reason to despise the warrior.

“Before we cross”—Brambleclaw raised his voice so all the cats could hear him—“I think we should decide what we are going to do on the other side. We can’t see beyond that hedge, and I can’t pick up any scents because of the reek of the Thunderpath.”

Feathertail raised her head and opened her jaws to taste the air. “Neither can I.” She agreed. “I suggest we cross, go straight through the hedge, and meet up again on the other side. If there is anything dangerous through there, the six of us together should be able to deal with it.”

Crowpaw’s mood lightened to hear the gray molly’s bright and sensible thinking.

“Okay.” Brambleclaw meowed, still in his sour mood. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You give the word.” Feathertail nodded at her friend.

This sent Crowpaw straight back to being bitter.

Once more Brambleclaw strained to listen. A low growling in the distance quickly grew into a roar, and a monster leapt around the bend, its unnatural, shiny pelt gleaming as it swept past. It buffeted the cats with a hot, gritty wind and left them choking in the reek it left behind.

Almost at once another monster passed, going in the other direction. Then quiet fell again, heavy like a blanket of snow. When Brambleclaw pricked his ears again there was nothing but the distant barking of a dog.

“Now!” The tabby yowled.

Crowpaw sprang forward, aware of Squirrelpaw keeping pace with him on one side and Feathertail on the other. His paws pattered on the hard surface of the Thunderpath. Then, he reached the narrow strip of grass on the other side and was thrusting through the hedge, spiky branches snagging in his fur.

Pushing hard, he burst through into the open. For a moment he could not make sense of what he saw, and almost froze in panic. He caught a glimpse of leaping flame, and the acrid tang of smoke filled his throat. There was a high-pitched shout and a Twoleg kit came running toward him, not much taller than a fox, with thick, unsteady legs. The barking of the dog was suddenly much louder.

“Squirrelpaw, stay with me!” He heard Brambleclaw gasp, and Feathertail was yowling.

“Stay together! Over here!”

Crowpaw frantically ran about, trying to redirect himself back to her, but his mind was so scattered he could barely register his surroundings.

Just then, a heavy weight collided with him, and he was flung to the ground.

Groaning, he steadily got back on his paws. He turned his irritable gaze on the creature that had shoved him.

Stormfur sat up, his face scrunched in pain. “Ugh. Sorry Crow. I didn’t see you.” He stood to shake the dirt from his thick pelt. “Have you seen my sister?” He asked Crowpaw frantically, his amber eyes teaming with panic.

“No. I was just looking for her.”

Stormfur sucked in a shallow breath, his head darting to stare off to the side. “I hope she’s okay.” His claws pierced the ground anxiously. Then he seemed to remember Crowpaw’s existence, bringing his gaze back on the apprentice. “Best we stick together while we look for the others.” He flicked his tail for Crowpaw to follow as he began to pad away.

Crowpaw didn’t want to go with him, but he knew the older tom was right, and so swallowed down his pride for the time being and hurried after Stormfur.

Chapter Text

“Stay together! Over here!” Came Feathertail’s fervent yowl.

“Squirrelpaw!” Brambleclaw called out, panic shooting through his body. “Squirrelpaw, where are you?!”

He glanced around, but he could not see any of his companions, but his paws were carrying him into the depths of a holly bush, the closest refuge he could see. His belly brushing the earth, he crawled into shelter, and felt himself pressing up against fur. Instantly alarmed, he spun around in a flash, hackles raised and claws extended. At the same instant, the other figure faced him with a startled yelp, it’s gray fur standing on end.

Staring into her wide blue eyes, Brambleclaw quickly relaxed, eliciting a relieved smile. “Feathertail, it’s only you.”

“And thank StarClan it’s only you.” She returned, shaking her head in an alleviated motion. “I thought for sure you were that dog.”

“Have you seen the others?” Brambleclaw asked her. “Did you see where Squirrelpaw went?”
Feathertail shook her head, her eyes still round with worry.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’re fine.” He mewed, giving her ear a comforting lick. “I’ll see what’s happening out there.”

He crept forward a couple of tail-lengths until he could peer out. The fire, he realized thankfully, was only a heap of burning branches, confined to a small area not far from where he had broken in; a fully-grown Twoleg was feeding more branches to it. The Twoleg kit had joined him.

Brambleclaw could still hear the dog barking, but he could not see it, and the smoke prevented him from scenting it. More importantly, he could not see any of his missing companions.

Wriggling back to Feathertail, he whispered, “Come on, follow me. The Twolegs aren’t paying any attention.”

“What about the dog?”

“I don’t know where it is, but it isn’t here. Listen, this is what we’ll do.” Brambleclaw knew that he had to come up with a plan right away, before the dog showed up again. Their holly bush was growing close to a wooden fence, and a little farther along a small tree stretched its branches into the next garden. “Over there.” He meowed, twitching his ears toward it. “Climb the tree; then we can get on top of the fence. We can go anywhere from there.”

The gray molly nodded determinedly, and at once she dove out of their refuge, raced along the bottom of the fence, and took a flying leap into the tree. Brambleclaw, hard on her paws, heard the Twoleg kit shout again. Then he was clawing at the trunk, scrabbling hard until he reached the safety of a branch and the shelter of thick leaves. He caught Feathertail’s scent and saw her blue eyes peering worriedly at him.

“Brambleclaw,” she mewed, “I think we’ve found the dog.”

She twitched her whiskers to point down into the next garden. Brambleclaw peered out of the leaves and saw the dog—a huge brown brute—leaping up and scraping the fence with blunt claws in its efforts to climb up and attack them. As Brambleclaw peered down it let out a flurry of hysterical barking.

“Fox-dung!” Brambleclaw spat at it.

He wondered what their chances would be of escaping along the top of the fence, but it was flimsier than the ones he had scaled at the edge of ThunderClan territory, and the dog was shaking it so much that any cat trying to balance there was likely to be flung off into the garden. Brambleclaw imagined those teeth meeting in his leg or neck and decided they were better off staying put.

“We’ll never find the others at this rate.” Feathertail whimpered.

Then Brambleclaw heard the door of the Twoleg nest open. A full-grown Twoleg stood there, shouting at the dog. Still barking wildly, the creature kept up its attack on the fence. The Twoleg shouted again and strode into the garden, grabbed the dog by its collar, and dragged it, protesting, into the nest. The door slammed shut; the barking continued for a moment longer and then stopped.

“See?” Brambleclaw joked shakily. “Even Twolegs have their uses.”

Feathertail nodded, her eyes filled with relief.

Brambleclaw slipped out of the tree to the top of the fence and, balancing carefully, padded along it until he reached the hedge that bordered the Thunderpath. From here he had a good view of the gardens on either side. Everything seemed quiet.

“I can’t see or hear the others.” Feathertail mewed as she joined him.

“No, but that could be a good sign.” Brambleclaw pointed out. “If the Twolegs had caught them, they would make such a racket we’d be bound to hear.” He wasn’t sure that was quite true, but it seemed to reassure Feathertail.

“What do you think we should do?” She asked.

“The danger is inside these gardens.” Brambleclaw decided. “We’ll be safer on the other side of the hedge, beside the Thunderpath. The monsters won’t bother us if we stick to the verge, and once we get to the end of these Twoleg nests there won’t be any more problems.”

“But what about the others?”

That was the question Brambleclaw couldn’t answer. It was impossible to look for their companions with dogs and Twolegs all around. Anxiety stabbed deep in his belly when he thought of Squirrelpaw alone and bewildered in this strange and frightening place.

“They’ll probably do the same.” He meowed, hoping he sounded convincing. “They might even be waiting for us. If not, I’ll come back and have a look after dark, when the Twolegs will be in their nests.”

Feathertail nodded tensely, and both cats jumped down from the fence, landing lightly on their forepaws on short, bright green grass. They slipped back through the hedge and along the Thunderpath, keeping well away from its smooth black surface. Monsters passed from time to time, but Brambleclaw was so worried about the missing cats that he hardly noticed the guttural roar and the rush of wind that rocked him on his paws.

Eventually they came to the end of the hedge. The Thunderpath curved away to join another one a little ways ahead. Between the two was a wedge of open ground, almost covered by a tangle of hawthorn bushes. On the other side of the Thunderpath, fields stretched away into the distance. A cold breeze ruffled the fur on Brambleclaw’s flank as he gazed across the fields to where the sun was beginning to sink.

“Thank StarClan!” Feathertail breathed.

Brambleclaw led the way into the bushes. They would be safer there, and some of their friends might already be waiting. Leaving Feathertail to keep a lookout, he plunged deeper, searching and calling out their names in a low voice. There was no reply, and he could not pick up any familiar scents.

When he returned to Feathertail, she was sitting with her tail wrapped around her paws. A dead mouse lay beside her.

“Do you want to share?” She mewed. “I caught it, but I don’t really feel like eating right now.” The sight of prey reminded Brambleclaw how hungry he was. He had eaten well that morning in Ravenpaw’s barn, but they had traveled a long way since then.

“Are you sure? I can catch one for myself.”

“No, go on.” She shoved the mouse toward him with a paw.

“Thanks.” Brambleclaw crouched beside her and took a bite, the warm flavors flooding his mouth.

“Try not to worry.” He mewed as Feathertail bent her head to take a halfhearted mouthful. “I’m sure we’ll meet up with the others soon.”

Feathertail stopped eating to give him an anxious look. “I hope so.” She turned her head away. “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit jumpy.” She licked her chest in embarrassment. “I’ve just never been away from Storm for this long. We’ve always been by each other’s side; he keeps me calm and I keep him from walking off a cliff.” She let out a good-humored laugh, and Brambleclaw chuckled.

“But I know how you feel.” He supplemented. “I’m worried about Tawn, too, but I guess I’m a little more used to being without my littermate.” It pained him to think back on how close he and Tawnypelt had been as kits and apprentices, and how much their bond had dwindled over time of being away from one another. The love was still there of course, but it just didn’t feel as powerful as it once was; they used to do everything together, but now they were separated, and the world felt like a much darker and lonelier place.

He missed his big sister.

Soft fur pressed into his side, and Brambleclaw turned to Feathertail.

“I’m sorry. That must’ve been very hard.” She murmured.

Brambleclaw sighed sorrowfully, and gulped down a lump in his throat. “Yeah. Life feels more difficult now. When Tawnypelt was still in the Clan she- she protected me, from all the hatred and accusations.” He paused to take a sharp breath as his emotions began to stir. “She understood what I was going through because she was going through it too, and we were facing it together. But, now that she’s gone, I have no one. I feel so alone.”

“Is that why you’ve been acting strangely?” Feathertail mewed. Brambleclaw raised a brow.

“Acting strangely?” He echoed, befuddled.

“Yes. You’ve seemed different lately; not quite yourself. You’ve been closed off, and when you yelled at Crowpaw...” She looked away from him. “I never thought you could be so vicious.”

Brambleclaw stared at her, his eyes wide in offense, angered by her choice of words.

Vicious… like Tigerstar?

“He deserved it!” He challenged, his fur beginning to bristle. “He accused me of being like my father. He thinks—no, believes—that I’m a danger, and apparently his father believes that too, sending his own son on this journey as a means of keeping an eye on me and Tawnypelt… I’m tired of everyone viewing me as some kind of monster.” His voice shook. “Why can’t they all just leave me alone?”

“I’m sorry, Brambs.” Feathertail mewed softly. “I can understand being looked down on by others because of parentage. But, you haven’t been very nice to him yourself-”

“So you’re saying it’s justified?!” Brambleclaw snapped, anger roiling in his blood. He couldn’t believe Feathertail was taking crow-food Crowpaw’s side over his own—a bossy WindClan apprentice over one of her longest and closest friends. But then again, Feathertail had been one of the many victims of Tigerstar, being subject to the ShadowClan leader’s attempt to cleanse RiverClan of its half-Clan cats, and had watched her very own Clanmate be slain trying to protect her and Stormfur. Maybe that was why she was siding with Crowpaw; had she secretly hated Brambleclaw all this time? Also saw him as his father’s shadow? He felt sick to think that someone he saw as family was in truth one of the many that despised him.

Tawny, please come save me.

“No! No, I would never say that’s justified.” Feathertail defended, also seeming a bit heated. “And it was wrong of him to suggest that. But, you can’t expect him to not think that way if you treat him so poorly. Respect goes both ways.”

Brambleclaw huffed. “He started it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be the one to finish it.” The molly countered. “Or at least, not in that way. You should be trying to prove to him that you're different from Tigerstar, not strengthen his claims.”

“Why should I be trying to prove anything?” Brambleclaw deflected hotly. “I’ve been doing that my whole life… and it hasn’t gotten me very far.”

Feathertail blinked at him. “Are your Clanmates still against you?”

Brambleclaw shuffled. “Not really, no.”

“Then maybe it wasn’t all in vain.” She purred, and gave him a soft smile. However, her attempt at cheering him up only angered Brambleclaw further.

“Look, I appreciate you trying to pass on some advice, but you don’t understand what I’m going through, so just stop it.”

Feathertail drew her ears back, a mixture of hurt and offense glazing her eyes. “I do understand. I’ve also had to deal with my Clan looking down on me for who my father is, and I know how horrible that feels-”

“How could you possibly know what that feels like?!” Brambleclaw abruptly snapped, causing Feathertail’s eyes to fly wide open.

“Sure, your parents broke the code and you and Storm got mistreated for it, and I’m sorry that happened, but you aren’t the offspring of the villain here. That’s me—my father—my father the traitor, the murderer, the tyrant… and that’s what they all expect me to be… but I don’t want to be that.” He laid his head down and covered himself with his paws. “But no-cat cares, and I’m tired of working everyday to prove them wrong, and maybe that’s all just a sign that I’m truly destined to be Tigerstar after all, so what’s the point?”

Feathertail laid her tail over his back, her eyes blazing with assurance. “Brambleclaw, you are not going to be like Tigerstar. There isn’t a speck of evil anywhere in that big heart of yours. And don’t let the other Clans get in your head; they’ll make you doubt yourself, and the intentions of those around you, and cause you to be angry and bitter. And when you allow that anger and hatred to control you… that’s when you lose yourself.”

Brambleclaw lifted his head. “Sounds like you speak from experience.” She glanced away thoughtfully.

“It was just after Stonefur’s death. I was so angry at Leopardstar for not doing something to stop it, and she barely even addressed it afterward. She just gave Mistyfoot a brief apology and then made her deputy, as if that was enough to compensate for what she’d done—or rather, not done. And the majority of the Clan accepted this, but I was not satisfied.”

“Though RiverClan is known for their strong familial bonds, and Stormfur and I had been relatively accepted as part of the Clan, they gave us the cold shoulder after Tigerstar wanted to kill us, and not once did Leopardstar stick up for us. We were meant to feel like outcasts—a deadly disease. It made me absolutely furious, and I let my wrath consume me; turn me into something that I… really wasn’t. I became so filled with hatred and mistrust, and I lashed out at everyone, including Stormfur. I even started to distrust and detest you and Tawnypelt for being kits of Tigerstar, and I despised myself for it.”

“But, when Leopardstar sacrificed herself for me during a fox attack, losing a life, and revealed her own loathing of herself for teaming up with Tigerstar and not saving Stonefur, I came to understand that she wasn’t the villain, and that the world wasn’t as black and white as I had thought, and I realized that there was no point in holding onto my anger any longer, so I finally forgave her, and it was like a weight had been lifted off me, and my heart didn’t feel so stone-cold anymore.”

“I’ll never forget what she did, but I’m glad I learned to forgive, because holding that negativity inside you will only hurt you in the end. So please, Brambs,” she placed her soft paw over his own, “don’t lose who you truly are, because the Brambleclaw I know and love is the kindest, bravest, most loyal and protective cat I’ve ever known, and I don’t want him to go away.”

Brambleclaw moved his paw out from under her’s. “Thanks for… telling me your story.” He mumbled, still too sore from their prior argument to say anything more.

Feathertail seemed to catch the memo, and gently changed the subject. “Have you talked to Tawnypelt about how you feel?”

“…No…”

“Maybe you should.” She purred. “She is your sister, after all. She’ll understand better than I do.”

Brambleclaw slightly nodded.

“And… if you find the opportunity… could you please apologize to Crowpaw?” She looked him in the eyes. “I’d appreciate it.”

He didn’t respond to that request, spotting the half-eaten mouse instead and taking his remaining share.

While Feathertail forced herself to finish hers, Brambleclaw began to plan what they should do next. Venturing out of the bushes he could see the sun setting in rays of fire, blazing out the path that they must take. But there was no hope of continuing until they had found the others.

“They’re not here.” Feathertail murmured, padding up to join him so that her breath was soft against his ear.

“No, I’ll have to go back. You stay here in case-” A furious yowling interrupted him: the voices of angry, frightened cats, coming from the last garden in the row. Springing to his paws, he met Feathertail’s startled glance.

“There they are!” He gasped. “And they’re in trouble!”

Chapter Text

“Still no sign of them?” Squirrelpaw huffed out. Tawnypelt shook her head.

“Not even a whiff.” The tortoiseshell sighed. “I just hope Brambsie’s doin’ okay.”

Squirrelpaw smiled. “You really love him, huh?”

“Of course I do! He’s my baby brother!” The older molly exclaimed with a laugh. Squirrelpaw giggled at Tawnypelt’s humor.

“Hey Squirrel, uh… has Brambs ever… gotten that mad before?” Squirrelpaw looked up at her.

“You’re talking about him yelling at Crowpaw?” Tawnypelt nodded. “Um, yeah, particularly with me, so it didn’t really surprise me that he blew up at Crow like that. It was still hard to watch, though.”

Tawnypelt didn’t reply, her green eyes troubled with anxious sorrow.

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” Squirrelpaw questioned softly.

Tawnypelt shook herself of her thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just… didn’t expect him to be that way. It seems that he’s changed from when we were younger.”

Squirrelpaw pricked her ears. “How so?”

“Well for starters, he never would’ve acted like that before. My brother’s always had a bit of a temper—runs in the family—but he never would’ve brutally insulted someone like that, and even if he did, he would’ve incessantly apologized for it, especially if he had hurt them; Brambs doesn’t like to hurt anyone.”

“But he never even looked back at Crowpaw, even though Crow was obviously tryin’ not to cry, but Brambs didn’t care… and that really worries me.”

The comment made Squirrelpaw think back to when Brambleclaw had called her a ‘stupid furball’. She felt a bit silly now that she had gotten so upset over it, even crying, but in the moment of staring into the eyes of the cat she admired most with flames of hatred flickering in their depths, she had felt so small and worthless, and it broke her heart that he might’ve felt that way about her, too.

But despite how angry he was, Squirrelpaw remembered how quickly the fire in Brambleclaw’s eyes died away when her own filled with tears, and the way he’d mournfully voiced his regret. Perhaps he wasn’t as changed as Tawnypelt feared, that sensitivity she spoke of still lingering after all this time.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have left him after all.” Tawnypelt went on. “I thought he would be alright, but I guess he really did need me. Maybe I should go back to ThunderClan…”

“I think he’ll come around.” Squirrelpaw jumped in more cheerfully. “He probably does feel bad, but maybe he just doesn’t know how to apologize to Crowpaw right now; they both aren’t very fond of each other. We should just give him some time to think it through.”

“Yeah, your probably right.” Tawnypelt mewed flatly.

“But, I know how you feel.” Squirrelpaw continued. “I keep trying to make Brambleclaw laugh and be happy, because usually he’s a big grump. It bothers him more often than not, and is the cause for a lot of our arguments, but it’s worth it for the few times it does work.”

Tawnypelt glanced at her. “Why is it so important to you that you do that?”

“I guess it has to do with when I was a kit. The day I first opened my eyes, I vaguely remember seeing Brambleclaw, and he looked over with his big, hopeful eyes and smiled at me—a huge, warm-hearted and joyful smile—and I haven’t been able to rid it from my mind since. I really want him to smile like that again.”

She heard Tawnypelt purr.

“I’m glad Brambs has got someone who cares about him as much as I do.” She lightly bumped her head against Squirrelpaw’s shoulder in a show of affection. “Thank ya for watchin’ over him.”

Squirrelpaw beamed up at her.

Suddenly, a frightened shriek pierced through the air. Both cats jumped with their fur standing on end and spun to face a large hedge.

Another yelp sounded from the other side.

“That was Stormfur!” Tawnypelt shouted, and made a dash toward her friend, leaping into the green without a second thought, and Squirrelpaw was right on her heels.

“We’ve passed that bush already!” Crowpaw growled, getting increasingly irritated with Stormfur’s abysmal directional skills. “Three times!”

“No we haven’t.” Stormfur defended, though there was no annoyance in his tone. “That’s a completely different bush.” Though when the gray tom sidled up to the foliage and peered at it closer, clearly noticing the chunk of leaves missing that proved it was in fact the same bush they had gone by multiple times, he changed his tune. “Never mind, you’re right. That’s the same bush.” He turned back to Crowpaw. “We’re lost.”

“Ugh!” Crowpaw exclaimed frustratedly. “I told you I should’ve led! Now we’re never going to find the others!”

Stormfur shook his head nonchalantly. “Come on, don’t say that. I’m sure we’ll find our way soon.” Though the glimmer of faint panic reflecting in the tom’s eyes betrayed his calm words.

Crowpaw hissed out an aggravated sigh, but continued to follow Stormfur as the RiverClan cat padded along the bottom of a winding fence, because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he didn’t know where to go, either.

The pair traveled in silence for a good few moments, but of course Stormfur had to open his mouth again and shatter it just for the sake of making unnecessary small-talk.

“So, um, how are you holding up?”

“What?” Crowpaw glared up at Stormfur, genuinely confused, and narrowed his eyes to pressure the larger tom into telling him what he meant.

“I just overheard you talking to Feathertail about missing your Clan earlier, and wanted to know if you were doing better now.”

Crowpaw tensed. “You... heard that?” Stormfur nodded.

Crowpaw looked away. “Uh, I don’t know.”

Stormfur raised a brow. “You don’t know?”

“Y-yeah, I miss them! Just, more so my mom and aunt if anything. The rest of the Clan I could live without.”

“Why’s that?” Stormfur prompted. Crowpaw stared at the ground as his response.

Stormfur got the hint. “Okay, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Unfortunately, the following awkward quiet made Crowpaw cave.

“…It’s not that I don’t like WindClan; I love living on the moor, but the constant pressure I’m under makes it hard to be there sometimes. My mentor Mudclaw is also very harsh, always pushing me to my limits. But I understand why he does it; he just wants me to be strong, but most of the time he just takes it way too far.”

“I just... want to be free, you know? Free to do my own thing, live my own life, without having to uphold someone else’s legacy. I just… want an escape.” Crowpaw looked back to Stormfur, his eyes as meek as a young kit’s. “Do you miss your Clan?”

The other tom relinquished a deep sigh. “Honestly, not really. I’ve never truly felt at home in RiverClan, and I always wondered what life would’ve been like if I had stayed in ThunderClan; I really liked it there, felt more in place. I’ve always preferred hunting to fishing and sparring practice to swimming lessons. In fact, I was a bit of a dry-paw when I was little—uh, that just means I didn’t like to get wet. I don’t mind it so much now, even sometimes enjoy it, but I’d still rather lay out in the sun.”

“And yet, I always come back to thinking about the family I’d be leaving behind if I ever decided to change Clans, and maybe that would still be worth it if I knew Feathertail would come with me, because I could never leave her, but despite everything she’s gone through in RiverClan, all the hardships, she loves that place more than even Riverstar himself, and I don’t want to force her to live in a Clan she wouldn’t be happy in, so I’ll stay for her.”

Crowpaw found himself in awe of Stormfur’s confession and sacrificial resolve to stick by his sister’s side, even if it meant staying somewhere he didn’t feel he truly belonged in just to spare her the ache of leaving behind a place she belonged in. He really hadn’t expected that kind of strength coming from a cat as mellow as Stormfur. Suddenly, he felt a swell of respect rise in his chest for him.

“That’s really cool of you, Storm.” He purred. Stormfur met his gaze.

“Thanks.” He meowed with a smile. “You know, it feels really good to be out here. No worries of expectations or belonging, just being-”

“Free?” Crowpaw finished, and Stormfur grinned at him again.

“Yeah, exactly that.” He flicked Crowpaw over the ear with his tail, and Crowpaw play-swatted a paw at him, making the both of them laugh.

A high-pitched caterwaul cut off their fun, and the toms spun to find two kittypets jumping down from the white fence and landing in the garden, hissing and snarling, their claws extended as they stalked toward the trespassers.

Crowpaw scoffed confidently. “Don’t worry, it’s just a couple of puny kittypets. We can take them.” He slid his claws out.

“Uh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Stormfur flicked his tail to indicate the newcomers, and Crowpaw looked back to see that as the kittypets drew closer, they grew larger and larger in size, until they were practically as large as Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, already two of the biggest the Clans had to offer.

“Uh, yeah. Uh oh.”

Chapter Text

Brambleclaw raced back to the hedge with Feathertail right behind him. All his instincts told him to dash into the garden and rescue the other cats, but the memory of what happened when they had first crossed the Thunderpath warned him to be more careful. Instead, he pushed his way through the branches until he could peer out while still remaining hidden.

What he saw made his belly flip over. 

Near the Twoleg nest, two huge kittypets had cornered Stormfur and Crowpaw. The WindClan apprentice was crouched close to the ground, his ears flattened and his lips drawn back in a snarl. Stormfur had one paw stretched out in front of him, threatening the kittypets with unsheathed claws. Brambleclaw could see they wouldn’t get away without a fight, and there was nowhere for them to retreat except through the half-open door of the Twoleg nest.

“Great StarClan!” Feathertail gasped in his ear. “Those kittypets are bigger than most warriors!”

Brambleclaw wasn’t sure that mattered. Size and a glossy pelt didn’t make a warrior. He didn’t have any doubts that he and his friends would win the battle, but the two kittypets were defending their territory, and they looked capable of inflicting nasty wounds—wounds the Clan cats could not afford if they were to keep on with their journey.

He tensed his muscles, preparing to leap on the kittypets from behind, but before he could move, a flame-colored streak flashed down from the fence and across the garden.

“Squirrelpaw, no!” Brambleclaw yowled.

The apprentice took no notice; he was not even sure she had heard him. Hurling herself into the midst of the bristling cats, she clawed at the nearest kittypet. Both of them swung around, snarling.

At once Brambleclaw called out, “Stormfur, Crowpaw! Over here!”

Crowpaw shot across the grass and crashed into Feathertail’s flank as he charged under the hedge, but Stormfur stayed where he was, screeching at the advancing kittypets with Squirrelpaw beside him. At the same moment Tawnypelt appeared on top of the fence from the next garden and leapt down to join them.

“Back off, ya mangepelts!” The large molly snarled as the two kittypets closed in.

The nearest of them lashed at her with one paw, missing her by a whisker. Then the door to the Twoleg nest was flung open and a female Twoleg appeared, shouting and waving her arms. The kittypets fled around the side of the nest, while the Clan cats dashed for the refuge of the hedge. The Twoleg glared after them for a moment and then retreated into her nest, banging the door behind her.

“Squirrelpaw!” Brambleclaw hissed as the apprentice skidded to a halt. “What were you thinking out there? Those two could’ve clawed your fur off!”

Squirrelpaw glared at him in annoyance. “No they couldn’t; I was much too fast for them.” She meowed indignantly. “Besides, Stormfur and Crowpaw were there.”

“Brambleclaw, don’t scold her.” Stormfur’s amber eyes glowed as he gazed at Squirrelpaw. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Feathertail murmured agreement, and Tawnypelt gave the young cat a nod of approval; only Crowpaw looked cross, perhaps aware that Squirrelpaw had come off better than him, regretting that in the moment of crisis he had obeyed an order from Brambleclaw.

“I never said she wasn’t brave.” Brambleclaw defended himself sorely, feeling uncomfortable at his friends’ assumption of what he meant. “I was just… worried about her, and I didn’t want her to get hurt. We’ve still got a long way to go, and if any of us get injured it’s going to hold us back, plus we don’t have a medicine cat with us to do anything about the injury, so I would prefer if we’d think first before doing anything risky.”

Squirrelpaw’s eyes softened, and she let out a purr. “I understand your concerns, but they needed help right then, and I couldn’t just stand there attracting flies and watch them get slashed to pieces! I had to jump in. And you don’t have to worry about the medicine cat thing. Remember? Leafpaw told me exactly what herbs to use for any situation we might encounter.” She beamed at him.

But Brambleclaw didn’t feel eased. “Do you even remember what all she said?”

A shadow of panic passed over Squirrelpaw’s gaze, but it was quickly cleared away with confidence. “Of course! She said borage for fever, juniper berries for… wounds? And, uh, something leaves for, uh…” 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Brambleclaw hissed scornfully. Squirrelpaw fluffed her tail up.

“Don’t act all high and mighty! You were there too, so how come you don’t remember?!”

Brambleclaw growled. “Well she wasn’t talking to me, so I didn’t think I had to pay attention that much…” The passion of his anger left him as he realized just how dumb his defense was, but he wasn’t about to tell Squirrelpaw that, so he steeled his face with all the fury he could muster.

Squirrelpaw looked as though she was about to snap something else at him, but she was stopped by Crowpaw.

“Do you two always have to argue?” The elder apprentice meowed with irritation. “Because it’s really starting to get old.”

Squirrelpaw flashed him a raging glare. “And who asked you, huh?!” She screeched. “Don’t WindClan cats know how to mind their own business?”

“Uh, yeah, we do.” He rubutted harshly. “Because unlike ThunderClan, we don’t stick our noses where they don’t belong.” He spat, getting a bit in her face.

Squirrelpaw bared her teeth, and Brambleclaw’s body tensed and he felt his claws dig into the ground; he was prepared to leap at Crowpaw for daring to insult ThunderClan.

“And in WindClan, apprentices know when to keep their mouths shut.” Crowpaw continued, attempting to wound Squirrelpaw further.

At that point, Brambleclaw had expected the ginger molly to fly at Crowpaw with her claws unsheathed like she had done before. But to his surprise, her face suddenly lit up mischievously, and she smirked at her fellow apprentice.

“Oh, so you’ll be quiet from now on? Good.” With a superior wave of her tail, Squirrelpaw padded away, leaving Crowpaw in the wake of his seething. 

Brambleclaw watched her pad past, impressed with her comeback, and Tawnypelt was laughing.

“He walked into that one!” She teased as she followed after Squirrelpaw, and Brambleclaw was right on their heels.

He glanced back when he realized Stormfur wasn’t at his side, and saw that the gray tom had opted, along with Feathertail, to pad at Crowpaw’s side instead, giving the apprentice a sympathetic look.

Needless to say, Brambleclaw felt slightly betrayed, and maddened envy twisted in his chest. Not only has Crowpaw insulted him, tested his authority, and harassed Squirrelpaw, but now he had taken Brambleclaw’s best friend from him. And he couldn’t believe that Stormfur had allowed himself to be so easily swayed; he was the most loyal of cats Brambleclaw knew: how could he have just walked away like that?

Brambleclaw’s chest heaved as he tried to hold back his angry tears. 

Feathertail passed him a stern look, signaling her disappointment at him for not stopping the fight after their long talk regarding his treatment of Crowpaw, but Brambleclaw couldn’t be bothered to care less.

He hated Crowpaw, and he wanted nothing more than to get rid of him.

Brambleclaw led the way back to the patch of rough ground where he had waited with Feathertail. By now the sun had gone, but red streaks stained the sky, showing them the path they must follow.

“We could spend the night here.” Stormfur suggested. “There’s shelter, and prey.”

“It’s too close to the Twoleg nests.” Feathertail argued. “If we cross the Thunderpath into those fields, we’ll be able to find a safer place.”

No cat disagreed with that. StarClan sent them an easy crossing of the second Thunderpath, and as twilight gathered they began the trek across the fields. The surface was rough, with boggy patches and heaps of stone, as if once there had been Twoleg nests here that had been allowed to fall into ruin.

It was almost dark when they came to a stretch of broken-down wall. Ferns and grasses had rooted in the cracks, giving some shelter, and moss covered the fallen stones.

“This doesn’t look too bad.” Stormfur meowed. “We could stop here.”

“Oh, yes, please!” Squirrelpaw agreed. “I’m so tired I think my paws will drop off!”

“Well, I think we should go on a bit farther.” Crowpaw objected stubbornly. Brambleclaw suspected he was just trying to be difficult. “There’s no prey-scent here.”

“We’ve traveled a long way today.” Brambleclaw meowed sternly. “If we go any farther we could run into more trouble, or have to spend the night in the open. Let’s look around first, though, and make sure there aren’t any nasty surprises; no badgers or foxes holed up nearby.”

The rest of the cats agreed, all except Crowpaw, who grunted disagreeably. Squirrelpaw went to investigate on the other side of the wall. When she had been gone for a while, Brambleclaw set off after her, bracing himself to find that she had run into trouble again, only to meet her bouncing back around the line of stones.

“This is a great place!” She announced, shaking droplets of water from her whiskers, while Brambleclaw wondered where all her energy came from. “There’s a puddle on the other side, with plenty of water!”

“Water? Lead me to it.” Tawnypelt demanded, trotting in the direction Squirrelpaw indicated. “My mouth’s as dry as last season’s leaves.”

A moment later she came back, and stalked threateningly across to Squirrelpaw with her tail bristling. “That was a dirty trick.” She growled.

Squirrelpaw looked bewildered. “Trick? I don’t know what you mean.”

Tawnypelt spat. “That water tastes disgustin’! Full of salt or somethin’.”

“No it doesn’t!” Squirrelpaw protested. “I had a good long drink, and it was as fresh as anything.”

Tawnypelt turned away and snatched angrily at some juicy stalks of grass. 

Stormfur shot Squirrelpaw a worried glance. “Wait there.” He mewed. A moment later he reappeared with drops gleaming on his whiskers. “No, it’s fine.” He reported.

“Then why did I get a mouthful of salt?” Tawnypelt meowed.

A shiver ran down Brambleclaw’s spine. “What if…” He began, his gaze darting from one cat to another. He swallowed. “What if it’s a sign from StarClan that we’re doing the right thing, trying to find the sun-drown-place? My dream was about salt water, remember?”

The four chosen cats looked at each other, eyes stretched wide with awe and, Brambleclaw thought, apprehension.

“If you’re right,” Feathertail murmured, “it would mean that StarClan is watching us, all the time.” She glanced around as if she expected to see starry shapes stalking toward them across the darkening field.

Brambleclaw dug his claws into the earth, feeling the need to anchor himself in something real and solid. “Then that’s a good thing.” He mewed.

“So why haven’t we all had a sign?” Crowpaw asked challengingly. “Why just the two of you?”

“Perhaps we’ll have one later.” Feathertail suggested, brushing her tail against Crowpaw’s flank. “Maybe they’re spread out to let us know we’re staying on the right path.”

“Maybe.” Crowpaw shrugged angrily and went off to curl up by himself at one end of the wall.

The rest of the party settled down, too. Feathertail and Stormfur went to lay by Crowpaw, and feeling that twinge of jealousy again, Brambleclaw curled up with Squirrelpaw and Tawnypelt a short distance away.

Brambleclaw thought longingly of the mice in Ravenpaw’s barn; there was no prey-scent here, and they would have to go to sleep hungry. The next day they would have to spend some time hunting before they went much farther.

The first stars of Silverpelt were beginning to appear above his head. Warriors of StarClan, Brambleclaw thought drowsily, watching us and guiding us on our journey.

If only I could speak to you right now. I wish I could ask you if we’re really doing the right thing, and why we have to travel so far. I wish I could ask you what trouble you have foreseen for the forest.

The stars glittered more brightly still, but no answers came.

“What are those?” Brambleclaw asked.

Three sunrises had passed since the trouble in the Twoleg gardens, and the journeying cats had traveled on across farmland, avoiding the Twoleg nests dotted here and there, and meeting nothing more threatening than sheep. Now they were crouched in a ditch that ran along the line of a hedge between two fields. They were peering out at two of the biggest animals Brambleclaw had ever seen, which were running back and forth across the field, snorting and tossing up their heads. The impact of their huge feet made the ground shudder.

“Horses.” Crowpaw replied loftily; his eyes gleamed as if he was delighted to know something that Brambleclaw didn’t. “They run across our territory sometimes with Twolegs on their backs.”

Brambleclaw thought he had never heard anything so mad in his life. “I guess even Twolegs want four legs sometimes.” He joked.

Crowpaw rolled his eyes.

“Can we please get going?” Squirrelpaw mewed plaintively. “There’s water in this ditch, and my tail is getting wet.”

“Fine, go.” Brambleclaw muttered. “But I don’t fancy getting crushed.”

“I don’t think horses are dangerous.” Stormfur meowed. “We’ve seen them at the farm on the edge of RiverClan territory. They never pay much attention to us.”

“If they did tread on us, they wouldn’t mean to.” Feathertail added.

Brambleclaw felt that wouldn’t be much consolation; a blow from one of those feet, which looked like chunks of weathered stone, could break a cat’s spine.

“We just need to run across while they’re down at the other end.” Tawnypelt pointed out. “I doubt they’d follow us. They must be mighty stupid, or they wouldn’t let Twolegs on their backs.”

“Okay.” That sounded like good sense to him. “Straight across this field and through the opposite hedge. And for StarClan’s sake, let’s stay together this time.”

They waited until the horses had cantered off to the other end of the field.

“Now!” Commanded Brambleclaw. He launched himself into the open, wind streaming through his fur, aware of his companions racing beside him.

He thought he could hear the pounding of the horses’ massive feet, but he did not dare slow down to take a look. Then he was leaping the ditch that bordered the hedge on the far side, and plunging into the shelter of low-growing bushes.

Peering out cautiously, he saw that the others had reached safely with him. “Great!” He meowed. “I think we’re starting to get the hang of this.”

“It’s about time.” Crowpaw sniffed.

As the group continued, Brambleclaw kept checking the position of the sun in the sky, impatient for it to start going down so that he could be sure they were still traveling in the right direction; where the sun touched the horizon, that was the sun-drown-place. He pushed away his nagging worry that they would have nothing to guide them if clouds came to hide the sun, and he hoped the good weather would hold.

They soon came to a field so huge they could not see the other side. Instead of grass, it was covered by thicker stems, yellow and stiff like the straw in Ravenpaw’s barn, cut short so they were hard and spiky to walk on.

Crowpaw dabbed warily at the strange stems. “This is no good.” He spat. “We’ll all have scratched pads if we try walking across that. We’ll have to go around the edge.”

He glared at the other cats as he spoke, as if he were expecting one of them to contradict him, but there was no reply except a murmur of agreement from Feathertail.

Crowpaw had good ideas, Brambleclaw decided to his chagrin, if only he’d be less aggressive about sharing them.

The WindClan apprentice led the way and the rest followed, keeping close to the hedge so they would be able to hide if the monster came after them. There was a narrow grassy space between the hedge and the rough yellow stems, just wide enough for the cats to walk in single file.

“Look at that!” Tawnypelt exclaimed. She twitched her ears toward a mouse crouched among the spikes, nibbling at seeds that were strewn on the ground. Before any other cat could move, Squirrelpaw pounced, rolled over among the crackling stems, and scrambled to her paws again with the mouse in her jaws.

“Here.” She meowed, dropping it in front of Tawnypelt. “You saw it first.”

“Hey, thanks Squirrel!” Tawnypelt praised, quickly digging into her meal.

Brambleclaw was happy to see the building camaraderie between Squirrelpaw and his sister, and now that he knew what to look for, he realized there were more mice scuffling among the stems, stuffing themselves on the scattered seeds. It was almost as if StarClan had sent them the chance to hunt and feed well. 

Brambleclaw felt more hopeful and stronger from the food when they went on, especially as the sun started to sink and he could check their direction. 

Before long they were able to leave the strange, spiky field, and the going became easier. The air was heavy with the heat of the day; bees hummed in the grasses and a butterfly flew past. Squirrelpaw dabbed a paw at it, but she looked too drowsy to chase it.

Tawnypelt had taken the lead as they approached the edge of the meadow, with Stormfur and Squirrelpaw just behind her and Crowpaw with Feathertail. Brambleclaw, bringing up the rear, kept a lookout behind for possible danger.

This time there was no hedge, but a Twoleg fence, made of some thin, shiny material. It was a kind of mesh, like interlaced twigs, except that the spaces were regular. They were too small to climb through, but there was a gap at the bottom where a cat could flatten themself against the ground and squeeze underneath.

Feathertail padded to the larger, broken space, examining it.

“Looks like we can crawl through here.” She chirped, and began to wriggle through the opening, the snapped wiring brushing against her back, but she made it to the other side, leaping up and flicking her tail to encourage them to follow.

Stormfur went next, then Tawnypelt. The tortoiseshell had a more difficult time getting through, her movements slow as she tried to fit her broad shoulders into the space. Brambleclaw attempted to help her, but in typical Tawnypelt fashion she hissed at him, and he let her be.

Eventually, Tawnypelt thrust herself forward and through the hole. The wiring tore through her short fur, and she let out an angry yelp, spinning around to snarl at the fence. Feathertail purred sympathetically and licked at her friend’s back, soothing the wound. Brambleclaw reflected that he was probably going to have to get the same treatment after he went through as well, if he didn’t get completely stuck first.

His ears shot up as he suddenly heard a distant barking, and he looked back to see a dog staring at them from across the field. 

“Uh, you might want to hurry.” He said, turning to Crowpaw. The apprentice had also taken notice of the dog. He narrowed his eyes at the brute, then dove under the fence, his slim body perfectly slipping through to the other side.

“Squirrelpaw, your turn.” Brambleclaw said, nodding his head at the hole. She was hesitant to comply, staring at him with apprehension and… concern… for him?

“Go ahead, I’m going last.” He told her. This didn’t change her expression, and he could see that she bit her lip with displeasure at the situation, but she did what he asked, shuffling into the opening.

Brambleclaw heard the dog again, and shot his head over his shoulder. It had begun to chase, rocketing across the field to the vulnerable group.  

“Squirrelpaw, hurry up!” He shouted, his heart pounding against his chest.

“I’m trying!” She responded in a panic. She was only halfway through the hole, her belly pressed to the ground and paws scrambling to pull her out. “I’m-I’m stuck!” The forceful efforts from the others had caused the fence-stuff to unravel, and now it was tangled in Squirrelpaw’s fur—she was trapped.

Feathertail gasped, and leapt forward to immediately begin digging underneath Squirrelpaw to widen the gap, Stormfur and Tawnypelt joining her.

The dog was gaining on them, its barking getting louder and louder.

“How’s it going?” He asked frantically.

“It’s no use! The dirt keeps filling in!” Stormfur hissed tensely.

“Agh! Why did you have to go and get stuck, Squirrelpaw?!” Crowpaw berated, but Brambleclaw could hear that there was fear in his voice.

“You really think I wanted this to happen?!” Squirrelpaw screeched, just as frightened. “Now get me out of here!”

“We’re trying!” Stormfur yelled. “But nothing’s working!” Feathertail and him were still digging, and Tawnypelt had shifted to biting through Squirrelpaw’s fur to release it from the mesh, but she choked on the hairs.

The barking was right behind them now, and Brambleclaw could almost feel the dog’s teeth meeting in his pelt.

“I’ll buy you time!” He announced, crouching in front of Squirrelpaw to block the dog’s path to her, his claws out and fangs bared.

“Be careful, Brambs!” Tawnypelt warned, but he had no time to reassure her as the dog had finally caught up to them, and Brambleclaw took off.

He leapt over the dog, missing its snapping jaws, and landed on the beast’s back. He dug his claws into its pelt, and the dog howled a pained cry. It tried to buck him loose, but Brambleclaw hung on—he would not let this brute harm his friends.

“Brambleclaw, we got her out!” Stormfur shouted. Brambleclaw looked over to see that Squirrelpaw was indeed out of the fence, and she was staring at him in terror. 

His heart broke at seeing how scared she was, and he wanted nothing more than to run to her in that moment and tell her everything was okay and she had nothing to fear.

Now furious at the dog for daring to frighten Squirrelpaw, Brambleclaw extended a paw to slash it in the face. Blood splattered him as his claws ripped across the bridge of the fiend’s nose and sliced open its eyeball. 

The dog unleashed a hair-raising roar, and Brambleclaw was flung as it shook itself violently, its paws tearing at its disfigured face.

He hit the ground, and the wind was almost knocked out of him by the impact.

“Brambleclaw, get up!” Dazed, he gingerly lifted his head to peer at the fence. Tawnypelt was anxiously clinging to the mesh, her fur bristling. “Hurry!” 

Brambleclaw looked back to the dog, which was now dragging its head along the ground, he guessed trying to rub the pain out, something that clearly wasn’t working.

He heaved himself back to his paws, then dashed to the gap in the fence. He slid in, but as he had predicted he got stuck himself. He tugged as hard as he could, and Tawnypelt grabbed him by the scruff, throwing in her own strength as she tried to pull him through.

The barking resounded once again, and panic overtook him like nothing he had felt before, his heart banging within his chest to the point he was sure it would burst out from him.

“Come on, Brambs. Come on!” Stormfur was holding paws to his back, trying to push him forward, and Tawnypelt was still yanking.

Brambleclaw was trying with all his might, but he was growing tired, and with a horrible sinking sensation he thought he wasn’t going to make it.

Then, he felt something warm and mushy on his back, and the feeling of soft paws rubbing it into his fur, and suddenly he was starting to slip further and further through the hole.

With one final heave, Brambleclaw shot through the opening, Stormfur and Tawnypelt falling with him as they all collided into the ground.

The dog’s snout entered the gap only a quick moment after Brambleclaw had escaped. Every-cat screamed and scrambled away from the beast’s bloodthirsty canines. Thankfully, meeting so much resistance from the fence, the crazed animal finally gave up, pulling its mouth free and retreating back to the field.

Brambleclaw unsteadily exhaled a sigh. “Everyone okay?” He asked, scanning over his companions. They were all pretty shaken.

“Yeah, me too.” He joked dryly. His mind cleared enough to allow him to feel the pulpy sensation on his pelt again, and he glanced over his shoulder to peer at his back. The substance was green and looked to be chewed up leaves. He didn’t hate their touch, but looking at it made him feel a bit ill.

“What is this stuff?” He mewed, holding back a gag. Feathertail padded up to him.

“Dock leaves.” She purred. “I saw them a little ways down and thought to use them to get Squirrelpaw and you out.”

“Wow, that’s brilliant, actually.” Brambleclaw praised. “Good thinking.”

Feathertail smiled. “Plus, if you rub them in, it’ll feel nice on those scratches.”

At their mention, Brambleclaw felt the slight sting of the scrapes the fence had given him beneath his fur. Tawnypelt came up to him, and started to massage his back. He purred in bliss as the chewed leaves melted into the lesions, alleviating him from the sharp burns.

“Hey, can I get some of that?” Tawnypelt meowed eagerly. Feathertail chuckled and grabbed more leaves, chewing them as she padded to her friend. She spit them out and began to smooth them over the tortoiseshell’s wounds, who also purred in response.

“How’d you know dock leaves helped with scratches, Feths?” Brambleclaw questioned.

“Mothwing’s taught me a thing or two.” The gray molly answered.

“Really? So you know about herbs?” The brown tabby mewed delightedly.

“Some of them, yes.”

“How come you didn’t say so earlier when I’d brought it up?”

“Well you were a little busy arguing with Squirrelpaw.”

Squirrelpaw! Brambleclaw spun to his Clanmate. She was sitting a distance away, staring down at the ground. He padded to her with urgency.

“Squirrelpaw, are you okay?” She looked up at him, her emerald eyes damp.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. Brambleclaw blinked at her.

“Sorry? For what?” She glared at him like he was daft.

“I almost got you killed!” She exclaimed, and her eyes filled with more tears. “It was my stupid fault our lives were put in danger!” She glanced away from him, her tail curling around her as if to hide herself. “I don’t know why I thought I could do this… Crowpaw was right: no one wants me here. I should’ve just stayed home like you said.” 

“Squirrel… no, that’s not true.” Brambleclaw sat beside her, wrapping his own tail securely around her body. “That could’ve happened to any of us. StarClan, it did happen to me, too.” He pressed his nose to the tip of her ear. “So please, don’t feel bad, because… I would’ve risked my life for any one of you.”

“Even Crowpaw?” She asked softly, a bit skeptical.

Brambleclaw was reluctant to answer. “Yeah. Even Crowpaw.”

“Really?” The gray-black tom mewed, his voice shrill with surprise. Brambleclaw glanced away.

Crowpaw growled. “Can we just leave, now?” He started to storm away before he could get a response.

The others began to follow him, but Squirrelpaw lingered in her state of despair. An idea suddenly came to Brambleclaw.

“Hey, remember that game we used to play?” He asked her with a mischievous grin.

“What game?” She mewed, her tone rough. 

“You know. The one where I pretended to be a scary monster and you and Leafpaw would run away from me.”

Squirrelpaw sighed irritably. “Brambleclaw, I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Well that’s too bad, cause, I think, I think I’m-I’m changing!” He let out a dramatic groan, rolling onto the ground and acting like he was in pain.

“Quit being silly!” Squirrelpaw hissed at him. “Brambleclaw!”

“Not Brambleclaw!” He shot up, his eyes wide with mock crazy and his tongue hanging out. He stalked toward Squirrelpaw, growling and snarling, even letting saliva drip from his mouth to really sell the act.

He got closer, and Squirrelpaw backed away from him, but despite her efforts to hide it he could tell she was holding back giggles.

Then, he leapt at her, and she let out a scream, dodging to the side and dashing away, and a parade of joyous laughter followed her. 

Brambleclaw got a face-full of grass and dirt, but he quickly jumped back up, chasing after Squirrelpaw, still making monster noises.

She continued to scream, causing the others to whip around in a panic.

“What’s wrong?” Tawnypelt fret.

“Is it the dog again?!” Stormfur shrieked.

Squirrelpaw ran behind Feathertail. “Don’t let him near me!” She pleaded through her laughs.

The three warriors followed her gaze, their startle and confusion evident as their eyes landed on Brambleclaw, who was now crouched before them with his tail lashing wildly and snarling like a beast. 

“Brambs, what’re ya doin’?” Tawnypelt asked her brother, a touch of scorn in her voice.

Brambleclaw only answered her with a growl, shaking his head and tongue, slobber flying in all directions.

“Brambleclaw, are you feeling okay?” Feathertail mewed, her words trembling with concern.

“He’s fine.” Squirrelpaw reassured her. “He’s just pretending to be a monster. And he’s trying to get me!” She snorted another laugh.

“Ohhhhh.” Feathertail began to laugh as well, and Tawnypelt and Stormfur joined her, the chortles increasing as Brambleclaw continued to behave deranged.

He decided to snap his attention to Stormfur now, and the dark gray tom noticed his friend’s insane amber eyes locked on him.

“Brambs, don’t you dare.” He chuckled, slowly stepping away. But Brambleclaw was not deterred, and he tackled Stormfur, sending the large tom falling on his back. 

When his brother was down, Brambleclaw dramatically flopped onto Stormfur’s exposed belly. 

“Wow, Storm, you’re so comfortable.” He purred teasingly, sprawling out.

Stormfur’s laugh was brighter than ever. “Brambs, get off me!” He shoved at the tabby with his front paws, but after a couple heaves he gave up, and the two of them just laughed at each other.

“What are you all doing?!” Came Crowpaw’s irate voice. The playful toms looked up at him.

“Just having fun.” Stormfur meowed, giving the apprentice a smile. 

Crowpaw snarled at him. “This isn’t time for fun! We need to keep going! Come on!” He flicked his tail indignantly, and thundered off again.

Fury flamed in Brambleclaw’s belly, and he pushed off Stormfur and began to stomp after the enemy.

He was stopped as Stormfur ran to him and brushed against his chest. 

“I missed you, Brambs.” He whispered. Brambleclaw was perplexed.

“Missed me? What do you mean? I’m right here.” Stormfur pulled away from him, and stared deeply into Brambleclaw’s eyes.

“Uh, nothing. Never mind.” He said almost sadly, and turned to pad after Crowpaw. 

Brambleclaw still had no clue what Stormfur had meant, but as his sisters walked past him, casting him just as sad looks, his belly churned fearfully at the implication. Had he hurt them—upset them somehow? He didn’t want to do that. Had his game scared them? Reminded them of the very monster he was brood to?

But I was pretending! I wasn’t really a monster! I’d never want to harm them. Didn’t they know that?!

His head was spinning, and he was positive he was going to faint. But before he could collapse into the dirt, a cat slid up next to him, and he looked down at Squirrelpaw. She smiled at him.

“Thanks for cheering me up.” She mewed. Brambleclaw opened his jaws to speak, but his throat felt dry, so he loosely nodded instead.

She seemed to understand, and scampered ahead of him to catch up with the rest of the group. He remained further back, his thoughts still spiraling. But at least they were moving on now, straight into the path of the setting sun. 

Crowpaw led the way across the next field, and Brambleclaw was sure StarClan was guiding them.

Chapter Text

“We’re lost! Again!” Crowpaw screeched for the hundredth time. “How are you all so bad with directions?!”

Brambleclaw hissed out an irritated sigh; he had been greatly dismayed and worried when he’d awoken to the sky covered in a thick layer of cloud, and now his head ached from the WindClan apprentice’s constant high-pitched hollers of protest—he was not having a good morning.

“Crowpaw, we are not lost.” The warrior chastised through clenched teeth. “We’re following the path the sun set in last night.”

“Then why does everything still look the same?!” The younger tom complained. “You’d think the scenery would’ve changed by now!”

“That doesn’t mean we’re lost.” Brambleclaw corrected stiffly.

Crowpaw growled at him. “Yeah, okay. I’m just sick of seeing the same stupid trees and same stupid Twoleg fence.”

“Well you’re just going to have to get used to it.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” The gray-black cat snapped back. Brambleclaw held his breath, trying to stay calm and not spin around to rip Crowpaw’s throat out.

However, the apprentice’s observation did make Brambleclaw start to second guess himself; Feathertail had said the sun set in this direction the night before, and so they had reinstated their trek following its path. But were they really heading the right way? He glanced at the gray tabby, and returning the gesture she seemed to share his doubts.

“I thought the sun went down this way.” She mewed uncertainly.

Brambleclaw rushed to reassure her. “Don’t worry. No one predicted there would be clouds covering the sky this sunrise. It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah. It’s yours!” Crowpaw snarled again. Brambleclaw growled, and he was prepared to toss a hateful glare over his shoulder at the tom, until Tawnypelt jumped in.

“Crowpaw, if ya open your mouth one more time, I’m gonna bite your tongue off!”

“Try me!” With lightning speed, Crowpaw crouched down, hissing with his teeth exposed and claws ready to attack Tawnypelt.

The burly tortoiseshell matched his fighting energy, unsheathing her own claws and snarling with bloodthirsty intent.

“Hey, hey! Calm down!” Stormfur got between them. “There’s no need to fight. We’re all friends here.”

Tawnypelt snorted. “Speak for yourself.”

“Yeah, stay out of this!” Crowpaw’s tail lashed. “You’re not even supposed to be here, remember?”

A wave of shock passed among the group. Squirrelpaw, Tawnypelt, and even Feathertail were visibly angry at the insult to Stormfur, and Brambleclaw shared their fury.

That’s it! He thought, his claws sliding out. That’s the last time he talks to Storm like that! 

He started his furious march toward Crowpaw, but stopped when Stormfur swept his tail at the tabby. 

The gray tom hadn’t taken his eyes off the insolent apprentice, steady amber eyes staring into fiery blue. 

Brambleclaw was about to ignore his friend’s halting when he noticed a shift in Crowpaw’s gaze. The flames were slowly dying away, and suddenly the WindClan cat’s whole demeanor changed. He looked to the ground, and he seemed almost… remorseful? Brambleclaw blinked. No, he had to have been mistaken. There was no way that fox-heart was sorry—right?

“I’m sorry, Storm.” The younger tom mumbled, and Brambleclaw’s ears shot up in astonishment. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired and frustrated from walking for so long. But I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” He continued to stare at the ground, still ashamed.

Stormfur smiled softly. “It’s okay. I think we’re all getting a little cranky.” He purred with a chuckle. Looking back at the others, he said, “Maybe we should take a break now, yeah?”

Squirrelpaw leapt up. “Yes please! My paws are aching!”

Feathertail nodded with a pleased smile. “I agree. That’s a good idea.” 

Tawnypelt took a long stretch. “I could use a good nap.” 

Stormfur flicked his tail. “We could go rest over by that tree.” He suggested, indicating the stocky oak a couple fox-lengths away. “Is that okay, Brambs?”

“Wha-? Uh, yeah. That’s fine.” Brambleclaw was utterly stupefied. Crowpaw just… apologized… He could do that?! How was that possible?

The longer Brambleclaw stewed on this revelation, the more angry he became. How come Crowpaw had never apologized to him, if he was indeed capable of such a thing? Well, he knew the answer… but Crowpaw should be apologizing first! He started it!

Brambleclaw knew what Feathertail would say if he had said this all out loud, and he knew he was behaving like a kit, but he didn’t care. Crowpaw hated and distrusted him, and Brambleclaw had no love in his heart for those who expected him to follow in his father’s paw-steps.

He glared at Crowpaw as the other tom stalked past to go lay with the rest of the group, and the apprentice shot Brambleclaw a hard stare back.

Despite his irritation, Brambleclaw did feel very tired, and being so upset was starting to mentally drain him, so he padded to the tree and plopped down at the base of its trunk. Closing his eyes, the relief of approaching sleep calmed him, and he smiled fondly, awaiting the moment he would drift away from the waking world.

“Psst, hey you.” A voice whispered to him.

Brambleclaw lifted his head up, groggy and confused. He looked over at his friends, but none of them seemed to still be awake. Shrugging, Brambleclaw returned to his nap.

“Psst. Hey. I’m a talkin’ t’ya.” Said the voice again.

Brambleclaw’s eyes went wide. He slowly looked left to right, then back to his friends. Still, no one was awake—he was getting creeped out now.

“C’mon, up ‘ere.” Still on edge, Brambleclaw hesitantly craned his neck upward to stare into the lush green leaves of the oak tree.

Bringing his head down, he got up and padded to his sister. He nudged her with a paw.

Tawnypelt cracked open an eye—a very annoyed, belligerent eye, which became even more so when she saw her brother standing over her. She sighed wearily. “What Brambs?”

“I think the tree’s talking to me.” Her brother mewed. Tawnypelt growled.

“Trees don’t talk, Brambs.” She reminded him irritably.

“I know. But I kept hearing a voice, but I couldn’t figure out where it was coming from, but then it told me to look up at the tree.”

Tawnypelt rolled her eyes, heavy with exasperation. “It was just a dream. Now go back to sleep, will ya? Leave me alone.” Her last words were muffled as she turned her head away and covered it with a paw.

Brambleclaw wasn’t eased, and he stepped in place anxiously for a moment before heading back to the tree. 

He didn’t lay back down, continuing to fret with his paws instead. He glanced back at his sister, contemplating bothering her again, when he heard a rustle.

His ears and head shooting up, Brambleclaw’s eyes returned to the canopy of the tree, and he thought he saw something amongst the leaves. Squinting, he saw a pair of eyes gleaming from the greenery. Then the leaves rustled again, and an unfamiliar cat emerged.

It was a tabby tom, old and plump with rumpled fur that looked as if he never bothered to groom himself. His movements were slow and careful as he clambered down the tree to join Brambleclaw.

The warrior was startled at first, but quickly found his mind and snarled at the newcomer, unsheathing his paws instinctually. “Who are you?” 

The old tom let out a wheezing laugh. “Well ‘ello t’ya too, youngin’.”

Brambleclaw bared his teeth. “This isn’t a joke! Who are you? And what do you want?”

“What do I want?” The other tabby smiled. “Oh nuthin’ much. Was just curious as t’who ya were. I ain’t neva seen ya befer in these ‘ere parts.”

Brambleclaw blinked frustrated confusion at the elder. “Uh, y-yeah. We’re not from here.”

“Well where ya from, then?” The old cat prodded, still smiling.

Brambleclaw lashed his tail. “That’s none of your business.” He growled. “And you still haven’t told me who you-”

“Brambleclaw, who are ya yappin’ to?!” Came Tawnypelt’s irate shout. 

Brambleclaw whipped his head back to his sister, meeting her angered stare. Then her gaze shifted to the elder tom, and she abruptly leapt to her paws, unsheathing her claws. “Who the fox-dug is that?!”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Brambleclaw growled. 

Tawnypelt stomped up to them, and the others were starting to rise as well, roused from their slumber by the commotion.

“What’s going on?” Stormfur mumbled sleepily. Squirrelpaw yawned beside him.

“Brambs is talkin’ to some kittypet, or whatnot.” Tawnypelt meowed scornfully.

“A kittypet?!” Crowpaw yelped, suddenly more awake. He glared harshly. “You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

“Hey, can we not do the “kittypet hate” thing right now?” Said Squirrelpaw crossly. 

Crowpaw snorted at her. “Of course the half-kittypet has to complain.” He meowed rudely. “Yet another reason why you shouldn’t be here.”

Squirrelpaw rounded on him, her teeth bared, and Crowpaw snarled right back. Panicked, Stormfur looked at his siblings for help, as he was standing between the warring apprentices.

“Alright, settle down, you two.” Brambleclaw commanded. The cats in question both flashed him looks that screamed “stay out of this!”

“What’re y’all even goin’ on ‘bout?” The old cat asked, staring at them with a kit-like ignorance. “Kittypet?”

“Living with Twolegs.” Stormfur elaborated, trying to keep the ‘paws from slashing at each other.

“What’s a Twoleg?” 

“Oh, come on!” Crowpaw shouted, entirely exasperated. “Let’s just go! This old timer’s obviously got bees in his brain!” 

“Now who’re ya callin’ senseless, little fella?” The old tom shot back cheekily. “Didn’t nobody ever teach ya t’respect yer elders?” 

Brambleclaw was shocked and rather impressed that the old cat had managed to grasp the meaning of Crowpaw’s saying, showing his age hadn’t completely dulled his mind, and righteous amusement tickled his whiskers at seeing the apprentice’s baffled expression. The younger tom pressed his mouth into a scowl.

“I’m not little.” He grumbled. Squirrelpaw snickered at him.

“Anyway,” Brambleclaw started, returning his attention to the elder, “Twolegs are the creatures that walk on two long legs and have fur only on the top of their heads and not the rest of their body.”

“Oh, yer talkin’ ‘bout Upwalkers! Why didn’t ya say so? No, I don’t live wi’ Upwalkers. Used t’once, mind ya. Those were da days!” He settled down at the foot of the tree, gazing into the distance as if he were looking back at the young cat he had once been. “A fire t’sleep by, an’ all the food I could eat.”

Brambleclaw wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. Firestar always said that kittypet food was nowhere near as tasty as fresh-kill you caught yourself. As for sleeping beside a fire… he remembered the fire that had swept through ThunderClan’s camp, and envisioned himself back up in the trees, crying and praying to StarClan that he wouldn’t be burned alive. He shivered dreadfully at the thought.

“Speaking of food,” Crowpaw meowed loudly, “we need to get on and hunt. There should be prey somewhere among these trees. Here, you,” He stretched out a paw and prodded the old cat, who had drifted into a doze, “what’s the prey like around here?”

The tabby opened one amber eye. “Young cats.” He muttered. “Always dashin’ off. There ain’t no need to catch yer own squeakers in these parts. Not if ya know where t’go.”

“Well, we don’t.” Tawnypelt flicked her ears back irritably.

“Please, won’t you tell us?” Feathertail asked the old cat. “We’re strangers here, so we don’t know the good places. We’ve been traveling a long way, and we’re all very hungry.”

Her gentle tone, and the pleading look she gave him from liquid blue eyes, seemed to win over the elder tom. “I might show ya.” He replied, scratching himself vigorously behind the ear with one hind paw.

“That would be very kind of you.” Stormfur added, coming to stand beside his sister.

The old cat’s gaze traveled over them, coming to rest at last on Brambleclaw. “Six of ya.” He mewed. “That’s a powerful lot to feed. Who’re ya, anyway? Why don’t ya got Upwalkers o’ yer own?”

“We’re warriors!” Brambleclaw explained, puffing out his chest pridefully. He introduced himself and his companions. “I suppose you must be a loner,” he finished, “if you don’t live with Twolegs—I mean Upwalkers.” Trying to sound as polite as Feathertail, he added, “Won’t you tell us your name?”

The old tom thought for a long moment. “I believe it’s Purdy.” He meowed, giving his ear a scratch. “Though I’m not quite sher. Da Upwalkers who’ve fed me called me different names—a cat can’t be expected t’remember all o’ ‘em.” He purred jovially.

“We’ll call you Purdy, then, shall we?” Brambleclaw meowed.

The older tabby heaved himself to his paws. “Suit yerselves. Now, d’ya want food or don’t ya?”

He padded off through the trees. Brambleclaw exchanged a doubtful glance with his friends. “Do you think we should trust him?”

“No!” Crowpaw replied at once. “He was a kittypet. Warriors can’t trust kittypets.”

Tawnypelt murmured agreement, but Feathertail meowed, “But we’re all so hungry, and we don’t know these woods. Would it do any harm, just for once?”

“I’m starving!” Added Squirrelpaw, her claws flexing impatiently.

“StarClan knows we could do with some help.” Stormfur mewed. “I can’t say I like it, but so long as we keep our eyes open…”

“Okay, then.” Brambleclaw decided. “We’ll risk it.” He led the way, bounding quickly through the undergrowth to catch up to the old tom, who was ambling ahead as if he did not care whether they followed him or not. To Brambleclaw’s surprise, Purdy didn’t show them anywhere in the wood where they could catch prey. Instead, he made straight for the far side, where a narrow strip of grass separated the last of the trees from a row of Twoleg nests. Purdy strolled confidently across the grass toward the nearest fence without even looking to see if there was danger.

“Hey!” Crowpaw halted on the edge of the wood. “Where’s he taking us? I’m not going into a Twoleg nest!”

Brambleclaw halted too. For once he agreed with Crowpaw. “Purdy, wait!” he called. “We’re warriors—we don’t go into Upwalker places.”

The old cat paused at the bottom of the fence and looked back, his face creased in amusement. “Scared, are ya?”

Crowpaw took a single step forward, his legs stiff and his neck fur bristling. “Say that again!” He hissed.

To Brambleclaw’s surprise, Purdy didn’t flinch a single whisker, even though Brambleclaw would bet that Crowpaw could have ripped him apart.

“Touchy, ain’t he?” The old cat mewed. “Don’t ya worry none, young fella. There’ll be no Upwalkers round just yet. And there’s good food in their garden.”

Brambleclaw looked at the others. “What do you think?”

“I think we should give it a try.” Meowed Stormfur. “We need food.”

“Yes, let’s just get on.” Tawnypelt muttered.

Feathertail nodded eagerly and Squirrelpaw gave a little excited bounce. Only Crowpaw stayed apart, staring ahead without replying to Brambleclaw’s question.

“Let’s go, then.” Brambleclaw meowed.

After a cautious glance from side to side he crossed the grass to join Purdy, and the rest of his companions followed, even Crowpaw, though Brambleclaw noticed he trailed behind with his gaze on the ground.

When they were all together the old tabby pushed his way through a gap in the fence and led the way into the Twoleg garden. Brambleclaw’s nose wrinkled at the unfamiliar smells: at least two Twolegs, the acrid reek of a monster, though to his relief that was stale, and a whole mixture of unfamiliar plant scents. Some of the plants had huge, shaggy flower heads that bent under their own weight; Squirrelpaw sniffed one, and jumped back in surprise as it shed a shower of petals over her fur.

Purdy padded across the grass and sat in the middle of it, waving his tail invitingly. Coming up beside him, Brambleclaw saw a pool of water edged with some hard Twoleg stuff. Pale flowers and green leaves floated on the water, and in the depths he spotted a flash of gold, so bright that he instinctively glanced upward to see if the sun had appeared, but all the sky was still covered with cloud.

“It’s a fish!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed. “A golden fish!” 

“What? Fish aren’t golden!” Crowpaw sounded irritable. 

“No, but these are.” Feathertail was sitting beside the ginger molly, gazing into the water. “I’ve never seen anything like it. We don’t get those in the river.”

“Can ya eat ‘em?” Tawnypelt asked.

“Aye, there’s good eatin’ on one of those.” Purdy told her.

“I’m going to try!” Squirrelpaw gave the water an experimental dab with her paw.

“Not like that!” Meowed Stormfur. “You’ll just disturb them and send them all to the bottom. Let me and Feathertail show you.”

The two RiverClan cats sat poised by the edge of the pool, their gazes fixed on the water. Then Feathertail flashed out a paw. A bright golden fish flew into the air in an arc of glittering raindrops and fell on the bank, where it lay wriggling and flopping.

“Some-cat grab it! Before it falls back in.” Stormfur ordered.

Squirrelpaw, who was nearest, pounced on the fish and bit it behind the head. “It’s good!” She announced, swallowing.

Stormfur had already caught another fish, and soon Feathertail caught a third, so that Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw could feed. 

Brambleclaw tasted his fish with some suspicion, not knowing what he expected, but the flesh was succulent, and he polished it off rapidly.

When Stormfur hooked out the next one, he patted it over to Crowpaw. “Come on. It’s okay.”

Crowpaw gave the fish a contemptuous look. “We should be on our way, not messing around with Twoleg stuff. You’re really making me regret coming on this journey; I’m missing out on warrior training with my mentor.”

“I’d say you’re getting some pretty good training here.” Stormfur pointed out with a smile.

“Come sit with me,” Feathertail mewed persuasively, “and I’ll teach you how we catch them.”

“Teach me as well, please!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed eagerly.

Crowpaw glanced scornfully at the ThunderClan apprentice. He padded across to Feathertail, and sat beside her on the side of the pool, with Squirrelpaw leaping up to Feathertail’s other side, Tawnypelt joining. Stormfur went next to Crowpaw, but Brambleclaw stayed where he was.

“That’s right.” She meowed. “The trick is not to let your shadow fall on the water. When you see a fish, scoop it up as quick as you can, before it has time to swim away.”

Crowpaw bent over the water, a paw half extended, and a moment later flashed it down into the pool. He scooped out a fish, but it turned in the air and fell back into the water, spattering Crowpaw with a shower of drops. Squirrelpaw let out a snicker and Brambleclaw glared at her.

“That was very good for a first try.” Feathertail soothed the angry apprentice. “Try again.”

But Crowpaw was already padding away. “It’s too difficult!” He sat down in a pout on the pool edge, his back turned.

Feathertail sighed, and turned her attention to Squirrelpaw. The other apprentice was giving fishing a go, now. 

Her paw hovered over the water, then she splashed it down, and curved her foreleg so the fish was launched high into the air. She got into a crouch, then leapt up and caught the fish midair, gracefully falling back onto the pool rim. She turned to Feathertail gleefully.

“Wow! Great job, Squirrelpaw!” Feathertail beamed, waving her tail happily. 

Brambleclaw was mighty impressed, and now convinced of the fun, he bounded to the pool. 

He stared into the fuzzy water, trying to discern a fish. He tentatively outstretched a paw, then when he thought the moment right, he crashed it into the water. The fish went flying, and he held his jaws open to snatch it up, but he slipped on his now wet paw, and took a tumbling dive into the pool.

“Brambleclaw!” He heard some-cat shout, possibly Feathertail, as his head went under. 

In his moment of shock, he flailed in the water, but he quickly found his way to the surface, as the pool wasn’t very deep, his paws scrabbling and sliding on the smooth ground.

His head breached through, and he coughed. He grabbed hold of the pool side, where he hoisted himself slightly and waited as he caught his breath.

“Brambs, are you okay?” Asked Stormfur, panicked.

Brambleclaw nodded. “Yeah.” He wheezed out. His friend relaxed.

Feathertail giggled. “Well that’s one way to catch a fish.”

Brambleclaw was confused, until he felt the wiggle and flop of something atop his head, and looked to see a fish laying across his dome. He pierced it with a claw, then held it up for every-cat to see. “Ta dah.” They all laughed heartily.

Pulling himself up all the way, Brambleclaw noticed Crowpaw stomping back to the pool, his face hard with resolution. Brambleclaw guessed the apprentice wished to prove himself after watching the warrior somehow succeed where he had failed, not wanting to be shown up. 

He stared determinedly at the water, poising his paw to strike. He hesitated much longer this time, but his concentrated gaze never faltered. 

He slammed his paw down, arching the way Squirrelpaw had, and the fish was flung into the air. The world seemed to slow as it twisted and fell, Crowpaw’s jaws prepared to snag it. 

With a small leap, he caught the fish, and instantly his tight expression lifted in surprise and joy. He presented his prize proudly to Feathertail. 

“Way to go, Crowpaw!” She cheered. The tom blushed. 

“Yeah, that was awesome, Crow!” Stormfur added to the praise, smiling brightly.

“That was pretty cool of ya to try it again.” Tawnypelt conceded, passing Crowpaw a look of respect.

Crowpaw put his fish down. “Um… thank you.” He mewed timidly, clearly unsure of what to do with the snappy tortoiseshell’s commendation. 

Brambleclaw was taken aback when the younger tom then glanced up at him, a pleading look in his eyes. Was he searching for his approval as well?

The tabby tried to find the words to respond with, a simple “Good job,” but he found he couldn’t bring himself to say them, so he just nodded briskly and turned away. Crowpaw stared down in disappointment.

“Hey, wanna see something really funny?” Said Feathertail, gently nudging the discouraged apprentice. He nodded slightly.

“Me too!” Squirrelpaw proclaimed.

Feathertail smiled mischievously at them. “Okay, you see Storm over there?” She whispered, gesturing to her brother at the end of the pool rim with her tail; the other cat had gone back to fishing, not paying a single shred of attention. The apprentices confirmed.

“Well, watch this.” Feathertail carefully slipped into the pool, then taking a breath, sunk below the water’s surface. They watched as she silently swam right under Stormfur’s nose, the latter slow to notice. 

“Huh?” Stormfur mewed in confusion, squinting at the water, and suddenly his sister erupted from the pool, lunging at him as she yelled.

“Ahhh!” Stormfur fell off the pool’s side, landing with a thump on the ground. Everyone laughed, but Feathertail’s was the loudest.

“Feathertail!” Stormfur shouted hotly, shooting up, and fixed his sister a furiously embarrassed glare; his face was as red as blood. 

Feathertail wiped away a tear. “Oh come on. That was hilarious!” She laughed some more.

Her brother growled. “I’m so telling Mosspelt when we get back home!” He marched off, his fur bristling.

“She thinks it’s funny too!” His sister called after him.

“Haha! Wow! I didn’t think Stormfur could get that mad.” Squirrelpaw purred.

“Oh yeah. He hates it when I prank him.” The gray tabby grinned, swimming back to them. 

They all sat in a circle with their newly caught fish, Feathertail nosing some to Purdy. As they ate, Crowpaw began licking his pelt of the water he had routinely been splashed with, only to stop in disgust. “What sort of water is this? It’s salty!”

“No, it’s not-” Mewed Stormfur in surprise, but whatever he was going to say was drowned in a crash and an angry Twoleg yell. Brambleclaw looked up to see a Twoleg standing in the open doorway of the nest, shouting. He gripped something in one hand and hurled it at the cats; it landed among the shaggy flowers just beyond Purdy. 

“Uh-oh.” Mewed the old tabby. “Time t’go!” He lumbered back to the gap in the fence, laughing as if he found the whole situation funny, which he obviously did. Brambleclaw and Stormfur followed; Tawnypelt and Squirrelpaw streaked ahead to slip through the gap first, with Feathertail on their heels. Crowpaw came last; as he emerged from the garden and raced across the grass to the shelter of the trees, he was spitting fury.

“Why did you take us there?” He demanded, turning on Purdy. “We should never have trusted you. Did you want that Twoleg to catch us? The filthy fish weren’t even worth it!”

“Crowpaw, don’t.” Feathertail pleaded, dropping the fish she was carrying. “There’s nothing wrong with the fish or the water.”

“I tell you it tasted salty!” Crowpaw snapped.

Brambleclaw was about to intervene—they had wasted far too much time, first in fleeing from the dog and now in arguing—until he saw the glow in Feathertail’s eyes.

“You know why it tasted salty to you and not the rest of us, don’t you?” She meowed quietly, resting the tip of her tail on his flank. “It’s your saltwater sign, Crowpaw. You’ve had it at last!”

The gray-black cat opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He stared at the fish and then at Feathertail. “Are you sure?” He meowed, sounding astonished.

“Of course, you silly furball.” Feathertail purred.

Brambleclaw thought that no other cat but Feathertail could call Crowpaw a silly furball and get away unclawed. “Why else would water in a Twoleg pool taste salty? It’s StarClan’s sign that we’re still on the right track.”

Crowpaw blinked and let his fur lie flat along his spine. “But, what about your sign?” He asked the molly.

”I’m sure it’ll come soon.” She gave him a reassuring purr. “Perhaps when we leave Twolegplace.” Crowpaw just shrugged, disheartened.

“What’s all dis ‘bout signs an’ salt water?” Purdy growled.

“We’re on a really important journey!” Squirrelpaw informed him excitedly. “StarClan sent us to find out something vital for our Clans.”

“Journey… where from? What Clans?”

Crowpaw rounded on him. “You’ve never heard of the Clans?” His eyes narrowed.

Purdy shook his head, not at all shaken. “Nope. Mind tellin’ me ‘bout it?”

“I can!” Brambleclaw leapt forward, his eyes glowing. He loved talking about the Clans.

“Oh no.” Tawnypelt snickered. “There he goes.”

“What?” Crowpaw mewed. “What’s happening?”

“Okay, a long time ago, there were these four cats named Thunder, Tall Shadow, River Ripple, and Wind Runner, and- well, actually, it starts even before them, with the lions, tigers, and leopards, and they-!”

“Uh, Brambs?” Feathertail interrupted sweetly. “I don’t think he needs to know about the ancient Clans.”

“Yeah, so tell him the short version.” Tawnypelt growled.

“The very short version.” Feathertail requested. 

Brambleclaw slouched his shoulders. “Aw… fine.” He looked to Purdy with less enthusiasm. “So basically, there are four Clans: ThunderClan, ShadowClan, RiverClan, and WindClan, and we all live out in the wild, guided by the Warrior Code and StarClan.” He glanced at the others. “Is that better?”

“Yes, much. Thank you.” The gray molly dipped her head.

“You got all that?” Brambleclaw said to Purdy. 

“So if y’all are warriors, d’y’all go out fightin’ all da time?” The loner questioned. “Ya know, like…” He extended his claws and started mimicking, or rather mocking, an attack, making small growling noises and chuckling to himself.

Brambleclaw didn’t appreciate the mockery, and anger was rising under his pelt. “Yes, sometimes, but that’s not all we do-”

“An’ what’s that starry one you was talkin’ ‘bout?” Purdy cut in. “Leadering ya an’ such.”

“StarClan?” Squirrelpaw answered, and Brambleclaw was a bit steamed at that, too. “It’s where warriors go when we die, and our ancestors there guide us and give us prophecies when there’s danger so we can put a stop to it and keep the Clans safe.” She smiled at the old tom, and continued by telling him about their mission to find the sun-drown-place.

After her story, Purdy was silent for a while—so long that Brambleclaw wondered if he had fallen asleep. Then he straightened up and opened his yellow eyes wide, with a fire in them that had not been there before. 

“I know ‘bout dis sun-drown-place.” He meowed unexpectedly. “I’ve spoken t’cats who’ve been there. It ain’t far from ‘ere.”

“Where?” Squirrelpaw leapt to her paws. “How far?”

“Two, maybe three days’ travel.” Purdy replied. His eyes gleamed. “Tell ya what, I’ll come wi’ ya an’ show ya.”

His expression faded to disappointment when the forest cats said nothing. At last, Crowpaw voiced what Brambleclaw was thinking. “No way. You won’t be able to travel fast enough.”

“And I don’t remember inviting ya.” Tawnypelt muttered.

“But if he knows the right way…” Stormfur mewed. “Maybe we should let him come.”

“He’s bound to know the way through this Twolegplace.” Feathertail added, twitching her tail toward the rows and rows of dull red Twoleg nests that blocked their view of the horizon.

That was true enough, Brambleclaw thought, remembering the trouble they had met in the last Twolegplace. If Purdy really did know the way to the sun-drown-place, it might be quicker to go with him, even if he couldn’t move so fast. Perhaps he was the guide StarClan had sent in response to Brambleclaw’s prayer. He seemed an unlikely savior, but he certainly had the courage of any forest cat.

“Okay.” He meowed, realizing with a jolt of surprise that the other cats were looking at him as if they expected him to make the decision. “I think he should come.”

Chapter Text

Purdy led the forest cats along the edge of the wood. It was the sunrise after their fishing escapade, and Crowpaw was still angry that they had to follow the old mange, his hatred of Brambleclaw only settling more firmly at the pit of his belly. He was even upset with Feathertail for going along with this, but he felt guilty for doing so.

Though he could tell the ThunderClan warrior wasn’t very happy with his own decision, Crowpaw felt it was no consolation. You made your choice, mouse-brain. Now suffer through it. 

Still Crowpaw had to admit that with more and more Twoleg nests filling the horizon, clouds still covering the sky, and no sun to guide them to the sun-drown-place, they needed help—but not from a kittypet.

“Is there any chance of more food?” Brambleclaw asked Purdy, and Crowpaw heard his belly rumble; the group had left the trees behind and began to cross a grassy space dotted with clumps of brightly colored flowers. “The fish yesterday weren’t really enough.”

“Sher, I can take ya t’a place.” Purdy replied with a hostile glance at Crowpaw, who had been the most outspoken in voicing his distrust of the old cat. The apprentice snarled, but Purdy didn’t even flinch.

He led them to the other side of the grassy place, where there was yet another row of Twoleg nests. Crowpaw watched tensely as the old cat flattened his belly to the ground and heaved himself under a wooden gate, grunting with the effort and shaking himself vigorously on the other side.

“More Twolegs?” Crowpaw hissed. “I’m not going in there.”

“Suit yerself.” Purdy meowed, beginning to pad up the path to the door with his tail held straight up.

“We’d better all stay together.” Brambleclaw murmured. “Remember what happened last time.”

Crowpaw snorted but said nothing, and none of the other cats disagreed. One by one they squeezed under the gate and followed Purdy up the path. Crowpaw came last, casting wary glances behind himself.

Purdy was waiting for them by the half-open door of the Twoleg nest. A harsh glow lit up the space inside it, which was full of strange shapes and scents that Crowpaw had never encountered before.

“In there?” Brambleclaw mewed to Purdy. “You’re expecting us to go into an Upwalker nest?”

Purdy twitched his tail impatiently. “That’s where da food is. I know dis place. I often come ‘ere.”

“This is wastin’ time.” Tawnypelt growled, and Crowpaw was inclined to agree, but it caused an uneasy feeling to stir in his chest. He was still grappling with the praise she had given him the previous sunrise, unsure of how to take it. 

Since the moment she met him, the ShadowClan warrior had been flaunting her detest for the WindClan apprentice, and Crowpaw had not been shy of projecting his own disdain right back at her, so now that she’d shown him respect, he didn’t know what to make of her anymore.

Had she truly meant her words, and therefore he should reconsider his feelings about her like he’d done with Stormfur, or was it all a lie? Was she trying to trick him into believing they were allies now? To get him on her side, just to bite him in the throat later. After all, ShadowClan warriors were known for their crafty ways, and on top of that, she was Tigerstar’s daughter. His mother had told him that, even though Brambleclaw was the tyrant’s spitting image and should be feared, Tawnypelt was arguably even more dangerous. As Ashfoot had put it: “Brambleclaw may have his father’s strength, but Tawnypelt has his mind.”

Crowpaw knew the Tigerstar kits were scheming something dreadful—domination of the Clans? Probably. And he wouldn’t allow it!

Every instinct in his body was telling him to go with the conclusion that Tawnypelt wasn’t to be trusted and her praise had meant nothing, but something deep inside him was holding him back—a hope, a prayer, that he would be proven wrong, but he forced himself not to acknowledge it.

For the time being, he stepped forward. “We can’t go in there. We’re not kittypets. Eating kittypet food is against the Warrior Code.”

“Oh, come on.” Stormfur gave Crowpaw’s ear a friendly flick with his tail. “There’s no harm in it. We’re on a long journey, and if we can get food easily it saves time we would have to spend hunting—time we might need for something else. StarClan will understand.”

Crowpaw wanted to slash at the other tom, but looking up at his cheerful grin, he thought better of it, feeling slightly eased, as if he knew the warrior wouldn’t intentionally steer him wrong. He trusted him, and the revelation surprised Crowpaw. He quickly pushed the feeling away. He liked Stormfur more now, but he couldn’t trust so easily; he still barely knew anything about him—his intentions. Even though the tom was the grandson of the noble Crookedstar, he was still a member of another Clan—two if accounting for his half-Clan heritage, a fact that also wasn’t working in the gray cat’s favor. 

But isn’t that a bit hypocritical? A tiny voice at the back of his mind whispered, and Crowpaw wanted to claw at it. What about Feathertail? You trust her, and you don’t care that she’s from another Clan, but you do with her brother? Not cool, Crow.

I know! But Feathertail’s… different… 

Crowpaw gritted his teeth in frustration, and shook his head to rid himself of these obnoxious thoughts, still unconvinced. But Feathertail at least looked reassured by her brother’s reasoning, and both RiverClan cats ventured cautiously inside.

“That’s right.” Purdy encouraged them. “There’s da food, see? In bowls over there, all ready fer us.” 

“Okay.” Meowed Brambleclaw. “I think Stormfur’s right. Let’s go, but make it quick.”

Squirrelpaw didn’t wait for his decision, bounding inside hard on Purdy’s paws. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt followed her, but Crowpaw stayed outside. He watched his companions curiously, wanting to witness their reactions to the undesirable kittypet food.

Stormfur and Feathertail were already crouched beside the bowls, gulping eagerly, and Squirrelpaw nosed in beside them. Brambleclaw peered suspiciously at the food, but eventually thrust his muzzle into the pile of hard, dusty pellets. 

Tawnypelt took a wary sniff at the food, then lifted her head with a snort, her nose scrunched. “Yeah, I ain’t eatin’ that. I’d like to keep at least some of my dignity.” She padded back outside, calling over her shoulder. “I’ll keep watch!”

Brambleclaw waved his tail in acknowledgment, but didn’t look up from his meal.

Tawnypelt settled outside the nest with Crowpaw.

For a long while neither of them spoke. Crowpaw was actually itching to ask her something, but he was cautious to do so. She really only had two moods: angry, and even more angry. 

“So, uh… does Brambleclaw really know all that stuff about the history of the Clans?” It wasn’t the question he wanted to ask, but it was all he could bring himself to do, and he had been wondering about it.

He watched in awe as the molly’s face went from a hard scowl to a light smirk at the mention of her brother. “Yeah.” She chuckled. “I’m pretty sure he recites it in his sleep.”

“Wow.” Crowpaw mumbled. “That’s cool.”

Tawnypelt glanced at him. “Ya think so?”

Crowpaw shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve always liked learning about the Clans.”

“Well… you should ask him about it sometime.” Tawnypelt suggested, and she smiled fondly. “He loves talkin’ about it. He’s actually not bad to talk to, even when he rambles.” She laughed. “We like to call those ‘Bramblin’s’.”

Crowpaw didn’t answer, and the warrior’s expression turned bitter again. “Ya know, I’m tryin’ to be nice to ya.” She growled.

Crowpaw snapped his head to her, his eyes tiny slits. “Not like you’re doing it out of the kindness of your heart.” 

Tawnypelt turned away. “Nah. Feathertail told me to.” Crowpaw stared at the ground in discouragement.

“But… I have been meanin’ to talk to ya.” Tawnypelt started, sending her gaze back to the apprentice. “Look. You don’t like me, and I don’t like you, and I’m fine with that; you can get mad at me all ya like. What I’m not fine with is you bein’ mean to Brambs. I know he’s not… bein’ the nicest right now… but I don’t want ya to take your anger out on him. Do it to me instead.” Her severe green eyes met Crowpaw’s steady blue.

“Why would you want me to do that?”

“Cause he’s, ya know, sensitive.” She explained gruffly. “And when cats are mean to him—actin’ like they hate him—he gets to thinkin’ poorly of himself, and I don’t want him to think that way.” She looked back at Crowpaw, and this time her gaze seemed more desperate. “So when he makes ya mad, just yell at me… I can take it. I’m the strong one…”

Crowpaw wasn’t sure what the tortoiseshell meant by her last words, but it seemed like a sore spot by the way she’d said it, so he didn’t press her on it. 

“And I know ya think we’re schemin’ somethin’.” She continued, and Crowpaw looked at her in surprise. She glared back. “But I promise ya we’re not. We don’t have nor want anythin’ to do with Tigerstar. Especially my brother—he could never do any of those things.”

Crowpaw wanted to believe her, he really did, but his father’s words echoed in his mind too loudly to ignore, and he trusted Deadfoot far more than he trusted the claims of the kin of a murderer. “Why are you so protective of him, anyway?”

Tawnypelt closed her eyes. “Cause that’s what big sisters do.” 

Crowpaw shuffled his paws. “Well, I wouldn’t know about that. I don’t have a sister, or… any siblings.”

There was a silence between the pair.

“Well. That’s too bad.” She mewed. Crowpaw looked away.

The first hint they had of trouble was the sound of a door opening and a high-pitched Twoleg voice crying out above his head. The two cats sprang to their paws and whipped around in time to see a Twoleg kit run through the door and scoop up Feathertail in her arms.

Taken by surprise, Feathertail let out a startled yowl and began struggling, but the young Twoleg had her in a tight clasp. Stormfur stretched up with his forepaws, trying to reach his sister, but the Twoleg kit took no notice. 

Crowpaw stared in dismay, his heart pounding: Feathertail! He glanced around for Brambleclaw, but the big idiot was just standing there! And Purdy was calmly padding toward a full-grown Twoleg that stood in the doorway, waving his tail in welcome.

Crowpaw growled, then rushed into the nest, a black whirlwind with glaring blue eyes. “See?” He hissed at Brambleclaw. “This is your fault! You let that old mange-pelt bring us here!”

Brambleclaw gaped at the accusation, but Crowpaw did not wait for an answer. He spun around to face the Twoleg kit, lips drawn back in a snarl. “Let her go, or I’ll claw you to shreds!” He spat.

The little Twoleg, happily stroking Feathertail with loud squeaking noises, hadn’t noticed Crowpaw, nor understood his threat. The black apprentice was ready to spring when Squirrelpaw slipped in front of him. “Wait, mouse-brain! It’s only a kit. Do it this way.”

She padded up to the Twoleg. Raising her green eyes pleadingly, she let out a purr and rubbed herself against the Twoleg’s legs.

“Good idea!” Stormfur exclaimed, and crowded up to the Twoleg kit on the other side, purring.

The little Twoleg’s eyes gleamed. It let out a cry of delight and bent down to stroke Squirrelpaw; at the same instant Feathertail, feeling the grip on her slacken, managed to wriggle free and leap to the ground.

“Let’s go!” Brambleclaw yowled. The forest cats shot out of the door and streaked down the path to the gate. As Crowpaw squeezed underneath he heard the little Twoleg yowl loudly but he did not stop to listen. 

“This way!” Brambleclaw shouted, heading for a clump of shrubs.

Crowpaw dove under the low-hanging, glossy-leaved branches, the rest of his companions on the other side. A moment later, with a lot of puffing and blowing and scrabbling, Purdy joined them, and the apprentice’s blood boiled.

“Get out of here!” He spat at the old tom. “It was you who took us in there, to be caught by Twolegs.” With a pointed glance at Brambleclaw he added. “If you had listened to me, it wouldn’t have happened.”

Purdy twitched an ear, and showed no signs of leaving. “I don’t know what yer worried ‘bout. They’re decent Upwalkers. They wouldn’t hurt a cat none.”

“Just keep her prisoner.” Tawnypelt growled. “That Twoleg kit obviously wanted to turn Feathertail into a kittypet.”

“I wasn’t in any danger.” Feathertail pointed out. “I could have escaped by myself, except I didn’t want to claw the little Twoleg.” She blinked gratefully at the ThunderClan apprentice. “But Squirrelpaw had the best idea.”

Squirrelpaw ducked her head, looking embarrassed. “If any of you ever tell the cats back home that I purred at a Twoleg,” she mewed through gritted teeth, “I’ll turn you into crow-food, and that’s a promise.”

In spite of Crowpaw’s protests, the journeying cats trekked on with Purdy as their guide. All day the old tabby led them along hard Twoleg paths that made their paws burn, where they had to slink along in the shelter of walls or dart across Thunderpaths under the noses of monsters roaring down on them.

By the end of the day Crowpaw was exhausted, his tail drooping, and he noticed Squirrelpaw limping in front of him. 

“Purdy!” Brambleclaw suddenly called, quickening his pace and catching up with the old cat. “Is there anywhere safe we can spend the night? Anywhere we can find food—not kittypet food.” He added, thankfully. “We need somewhere to hunt.”

Purdy flopped down in the angle where two Thunderpaths met, and raised one hind paw to scratch his ear. “Don’t know ‘bout prey.” He rasped. “There’s a place we can spend da night just up ahead.”

“How far?” Tawnypelt growled. “My paws are droppin’ off.”

“Not far.” Purdy heaved himself to his paws again; Crowpaw had to admit the old cat was showing more stamina than he would have expected on the seemingly endless journey. “Not far at all.”

As Crowpaw braced himself to set off again, he saw Brambleclaw whip his head around and stare off in horror. He followed the warrior’s gaze, and spotted a faint reddish gleam falling on the hard surface of the Thunderpath. The clouds were clearing away on the horizon, and now, in the gap between two of the Twoleg nests, he could see the setting sun. It was behind them. They had been traveling in the completely wrong direction!

“Purdy!” Brambleclaw’s voice was a strangled yowl. “Look!”

The old cat blinked at the red light in the sky. “Fine weather tomorrow, I shouldn’t wonder.”

“Fine weather?!” Crowpaw hissed. “You’ve been leading us wrong all day!”

Squirrelpaw sank down on the hard ground and put her head on her paws.

“We’re supposed to be going toward the sunset.” Brambleclaw pointed out with a growl. “Purdy, do you really know how to find the sun-drown-place?”

“Course I do.” Purdy defended himself, his rumpled fur beginning to bristle. “It’s just… well, goin’ through Upwalker places, ya get turned around on yerself now and then.”

“He doesn’t know.” Tawnypelt mewed flatly.

“Of course he doesn’t.” Crowpaw scoffed. “He couldn’t find his own tail! Let’s leave him here and carry on by ourselves.”

Another monster roared by; Stormfur, who had been standing nearest to the edge of the Thunderpath, jumped back as a shower of grit spattered his fur.

“Look,” he meowed, “I agree that Purdy’s leading us the wrong way. But we can’t go off on our own now. We’d never get out of this Twolegplace.”

Feathertail nodded glumly, padding over to stand beside her brother and lick the grit off his fur.

“Okay.” Brambleclaw meowed reluctantly. “Purdy, show us this place where we can sleep. Everything will look better in the morning.” Ignoring a contemptuous noise from Crowpaw, he set out once again in the pawsteps of the old tabby.

By the time they reached Purdy’s sleeping place, the sky was almost completely dark, but their path was lit up with a harsh glare from Twoleg lights like small, dirty suns. The old tabby led them to a stretch of shrubs and grass, surrounded by a spiky fence with gaps between the posts where a cat could easily slip through. There was shelter, water in shallow puddles, and even the scent of prey.

“There!” Purdy meowed, twitching his whiskers with satisfaction. “This ain’t so bad, is it?”

It wasn’t bad at all, Crowpaw decided, wondering whether Purdy had really meant to lead them here, or if finding the place was just a lucky accident. Tired though they were, they hunted at once; the mice they caught were scrawny and reeked of Twolegplace, but they tasted like the juiciest voles to the hungry forest cats.

Squirrelpaw polished hers off, looked around for more, and sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a bowl of kittypet food! I’m joking!” She added fiercely as Crowpaw curled his lip at her. “Lighten up, will you?”

Crowpaw turned his back, too exhausted for a real quarrel. It was not long before all his companions settled down to sleep. He rolled onto his back. Looking up at the sky, it almost reminded him of home, sleeping out under the stars, but the harsh Twoleg lights told him otherwise—he wasn’t in WindClan anymore, and he probably wouldn’t be for a long while.

Curling up, he imagined his mother beside him, telling him goodnight and rasping her tongue soothingly between his ears until he fell asleep. It almost seemed real: he thought he could feel a soft pelt pressed against him, but the scent was too watery for Ashfoot, though he was too drowsy to really care.

Glancing back up at the stars, he realized he could barely see any, the lights cutting off the glitter of Silverpelt. StarClan seemed very far away.

I hope you can still watch over me, Dad.

Chapter Text

The next sunrise, they struggled on under Purdy’s directions. Crowpaw felt as if he had been plodding along for the length of an elder’s life, at the base of tall Twoleg walls that were as steep as the gorge in WindClan the river ran through. By now he was pretty much convinced that the old tabby was ambling along at random, not caring if they were going the right way or not. But the forest cats had no hope of finding their own way out of the Twolegplace. Cloud covered the sun again, so there was no help there, and now and again rain fell in a cold spatter.

“We’ll never get outta this.” Tawnypelt echoed Crowpaw’s thoughts as they lined up to cross another Thunderpath.

“You might as well stop complaining.” Stormfur retorted. “There’s nothing we can do about it.” Crowpaw was surprised to hear such a hostile response from the easygoing RiverClan warrior. But they were all still tired, even after the night’s sleep, and hope was trickling away like water falling onto sand. 

Tawnypelt glared at the tom, her neck fur bristling, but Brambleclaw stepped in front of her. “Take it easy, both of you.” He meowed. Then his sister leapt around him and pelted across the Thunderpath, almost straight under the paws of an approaching monster. Feathertail let out a distressed mew and sprang after her.

“And don’t take stupid risks!” Brambleclaw yelled after them.

Feathertail glanced back. “Sorry!”

Shaking his head, Brambleclaw turned to Squirrelpaw, who was crouching beside him at the edge of the Thunderpath, watching for her chance to cross. “I’ll tell you when it’s safe to go.” He told her.

“I can do it!” Squirrelpaw spat. “Stop trying to sound like my father.” She leapt out onto the hard surface of the Thunderpath; fortunately no monsters were in sight. Brambleclaw raced behind her, and Crowpaw followed.

Brambleclaw caught up with her as she reached the other side. He bent over her so they stood nose-to-nose, and his words came out in a hiss of fury. “If you ever do something so stupid again, you’ll wish I was your father! I’ll be tougher with you than he ever was!”

Crowpaw rolled his eyes at their squabble.

“I wish you were my father now!” Squirrelpaw retorted. “Firestar would know which way to go.”

Her words had clearly hurt Brambleclaw, as the warrior hung his head sadly. Crowpaw kinda felt bad for him.

The ThunderClan tom turned to the old tabby, who was strolling across the Thunderpath as if he had all the time in the world. “Purdy, how much farther is it to the edge of this Twolegplace?”

“Oh, not far, not far at all.” Purdy let out an amused purr. “Ya youngsters are too impatient.”

A faint growl came from Crowpaw’s throat, and he took a step toward their guide. “At least age hasn’t cracked our wits.” He snapped. “Get a move on!”

Purdy blinked at him. “All in good time.” He stood still, scenting the air, and then turned decisively alongside the Thunderpath. “This way.”

“He hasn’t got the faintest idea.” Crowpaw snarled, but he still followed. As with all of the forest cats, it was no longer a question of faith or courage. They just didn’t have any choice.

The day seemed to drag on forever, and when the light began to fade again they were limping painfully beside a tall Twoleg fence. 

Crowpaw thought the skin on his pads must have been worn off with so much walking on stone; he longed for the soothing coolness of growing things under his paws.

He opened his mouth to ask Brambleclaw to tell Purdy to find them another place to stop, only to realize that he could taste a sharp, unfamiliar smell on the air. He paused, trying to identify it; at the same moment Tawnypelt came hurrying up to her brother.

“Brambleclaw, have you noticed that smell? It’s like the Carrionplace, on the edge of ShadowClan territory. We’d better watch out. There’ll be rats.”

Brambleclaw nodded. “Hurry up!” He called. “Keep together!”

A dry chittering sound interrupted him. The warrior whirled around, and Crowpaw looked past him to see what he saw: three huge rats squeezing under the fence to stand in his path, their naked tails curled high over their backs. Their eyes glinted in their evil, wedge-shaped faces, and the apprentice could just make out the gleam of their sharp front teeth.

In a heartbeat, the leading rat sprang at Brambleclaw; the tom leapt back and the rat’s teeth snapped a hairbreadth from his leg. He swung a paw and raked his claws down the side of the rat’s head. It fell back, squealing, but at once another one took its place. More appeared from the other side of the fence, streaming onto the path like a vicious, squealing river. 

One jumped at Crowpaw, and he dodged it, hissing. It bared its teeth back at him, and the two began to circle. The gray-black cat made the first move, lunging at the creature, his teeth meeting in its leg. The rat screeched, then started running away, dragging Crowpaw along with it.

He just held on. He didn’t know how to fight rats, as he’d never even seen one before, but he was determined to not seem weak. He dug his claws into the earth, holding the rat back. Then he grabbed it with a clawed paw and pulled it toward him, his fangs still embedded in the leg. The rat writhed and screeched in his grasp, swiping its claws at him, but Crowpaw was able to bite into its neck, and it quickly fell limp. 

Crowpaw lifted his head triumphantly, but his moment of victory was short lived as he was suddenly barreled into. More rats had descended on him, and he was lost in the wave of bodies. 

He could hardly breathe. The disgusting stink of the rats filled his nostrils, choking him. He kicked out with his hind paws, hoping to feel his claws sink into fur and flesh, but it was a useless effort. 

“Help! Someone help me!” He cried out desperately. He felt a prickle of shame at not being able to save himself, but it was greatly overpowered by his terror—he was going to die.

Tiny teeth and claws were piercing his flesh, sending a strong scent of blood pouring out around him, and somehow Crowpaw felt tears dampening his face.

“Please help!” His sobbing plea was choked out as a rat fell into his mouth, and he coughed. 

Father, do something! 

Just then, he felt a weight on him vanish. More and more followed, and suddenly he was pulled out of the mass, being thrown a few tail-lengths away. 

He scrambled to his paws, panting heavily, and looked back to see Tawnypelt amidst the sea of rats.

“Ya want a piece of me?!” She was yowling as she batted multiple rats away with her huge paws. More charged at her, but she was barely phased. Releasing a battle caterwaul, she flung herself at the vile creatures, wrestling and clawing and biting. 

Crowpaw stared on, completely frozen with fear, unsure of what to do. 

The ShadowClan warrior popped back out of the brawl, a rat clinging to her shoulder. She tried to get at it, but it was too far for her to reach. So, to Crowpaw’s amazement, she threw herself at the ground, smashing the rat against the hard dirt. It unlatched itself, and Tawnypelt raised herself up. She glared down at the mutilated creature, then shot her fierce gaze to the rest of its brood. 

The rats scattered. Tawnypelt snorted victoriously, but putting weight on her leg she winced. Crowpaw was shaken from his frightened state, and ran to her.

“Tawnypelt!” He skidded to a halt. “Tawnypelt… you saved me.”

The molly gave him a grimace. “Hey, what’d I tell ya? That’s what big sisters do.” 

Crowpaw wanted to say something, but his throat was dry. He glanced at her shoulder, which was bleeding heavily. “You’re hurt.” He whispered.

“What, this?” She gestured to her wound. “Nah. That’s nothin’. I’m fine.” She was trying to hide her pain, but her face still crinkled slightly in discomfort.

Crowpaw felt dizzy. All this time he had distrusted her; thought she was a monster hidden in plain sight, but here she had risked her life for him, being afflicted with a wound far worse than anything he had been dealt. And yet, she still smiled at him—told him everything was okay, and he believed her.

“Tawnypelt!” Came Brambleclaw’s worried yowl. The tabby bounded up to them. “Tawny, are you okay?” 

His sister looked at him, and she grinned like she did with Crowpaw. “Yep.”

Brambleclaw eyed her shoulder. “No. You’re not.” His fur bristled. “I told you to quit taking risks!”

Tawnypelt’s smile disappeared, replaced with an angry frown. “It wasn’t a risk. Crowpaw could’ve died.”

“What?!” Brambleclaw snapped his gaze to the apprentice, his amber moons smoldering. “You did this to her?!”

“What? No!” Crowpaw was in utter disbelief. “I didn’t attack her!”

“No, but you were such an idiot that she had to come save you! And now she’s hurt! This is all your fault!”

Crowpaw opened his mouth to argue, but no words came forward. Is it really my fault?

“Brambleclaw, knock that off!” Tawnypelt shouted. Her brother whipped his head to her. “Don’t blame him just cause you’re mad I’m hurt. I know you would’ve done the same, and you’re just worried about me.” Her eyes softened, and she lumbered to her brother, bringing his head to rest on her chest. “But it’s all okay. You’re right: I should’ve been more careful, but it was worth it.”

Brambleclaw pushed away from her, and stared on as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What? You’re on his side now?” He accused. “I thought you hated him!”

Tawnypelt stammered. “I- well… he ain’t as bad as I’d thought.”

Brambleclaw growled. “First Storm, and now you? Why are you all abandoning me?” His voice shook.

Tawnypelt balked. “What are ya talkin’ about?! You’re not gettin’ abandoned.”

“But you’re choosing him over me!”

Crowpaw had had enough of this. “Hey! Maybe you should quit being a fox-heart to your own sister!” He snarled, disregarding Tawnypelt’s plea to not direct his anger toward her brother—he wasn’t going to needlessly scream at her just to spare Brambleclaw’s feelings. “Don’t you know how much she does for you?”

The tabby spun to face him. “You stay out of this! You’re just proving how I was right that you shouldn’t be here. You’re useless!”

The words stung more than Crowpaw would’ve expected, and his heart sank. Unfortunately, Brambleclaw’s doubts of the apprentice’s abilities had started to get to him, and truly the younger tom wanted more than anything to gain his superior’s respect despite his disdain—to prove the warrior wrong that he was only chosen because of his relation to the late WindClan deputy.

Right Deadfoot?

While Crowpaw was stewing in his thoughts, Brambleclaw had continued with his tirade. “You should just-!”

“Brambs!” Some-cat shouted, and suddenly Stormfur had flown in front of Crowpaw. He stared the other tom down, amber meeting amber. “You need to calm down.”

Brambleclaw stared wide-eyed at his friend, but Stormfur stood his ground. Clearly hurt, the tabby backed down, stomping away. Passing Squirrelpaw, she glared angrily at her companions, then scampered after her Clanmate. 

Stormfur sighed, his regret at upsetting his best friend evident as he lowered his head and ears. “I hate confrontation.” He padded away. 

The group found a place to rest—an enclosed gap in the wall on the other side of the Thunderpath from the Carrionplace. The area was small and dark, rough stones sticking out of the ground and puddles of greasy water gathered among them. Crowpaw bent his head to drink and grunted in disgust, but did not have the strength to complain out loud.

There was nothing to use as bedding. The cats huddled together in one corner, except for Brambleclaw, who continued to sulk in another corner, and Feathertail, who went nosing around the wall and came back with cobwebs plastered over one paw, which she pressed onto Tawnypelt’s wound.

“I wish I could remember the herb Leafpaw uses for rat bites.” Squirrelpaw mewed, disheartened.

“No herbs here anyway.” Tawnypelt meowed, wincing. “Thanks, Feths, that really helps.” Feathertail purred and licked her friend between the ears.

Every-cat began to settle, but Crowpaw remained standing. He stared at Tawnypelt, who had begun to slumber, and focused on her still bleeding shoulder. His chest was tight with guilt and shame—he had done this to her. 

Stepping tentatively, he soon stood in front of her. “T-Tawnypelt?” He whispered, his voice shaking.

The molly’s eyes cracked open, a green glare of irritation, but realizing who had awoken her, her mood softened. “Yeah Crow?”

He worked his claws into the dirt. “I… I’m sorry.” He could see tears at the edge of his vision, but he didn’t care this time. He wanted them to fall, to show just how weak and pathetic he truly was. 

How could I have done this?

Tawnypelt blinked at him. “Sorry? For what?”

The river broke free. “Brambleclaw’s right: it’s all my fault you got hurt. I’m weak and useless and I shouldn’t be here!” He choked on a sob. “Dad never should’ve chosen me.” He went into a full cry.

“Crowpaw, come here.” The apprentice glanced at Tawnypelt through his glassy eyes. She patted the ground beside her. Crowpaw automatically obliged, curling up.

Tawnypelt rested her head atop Crowpaw’s, and stroked his trembling flank soothingly. “Shhh. It’s okay. Brambleclaw’s not right; you’re not useless.” She met his eyes, and her gaze became more severe. “And ya certainly ain’t weak. Even I got my tail pulled, and I fight rats all the time livin’ in ShadowClan.” She nuzzled Crowpaw. “So don’t let him get to ya. He didn’t mean it anyway.”

Crowpaw pulled away, shocked. “Didn’t mean it?”

Tawnypelt paused. “Well… I hope he didn’t… But I think he’s just misguidin’ his anger. He got himself all worked up worryin’ about me, and when that happens he kinda just… breaks down.”

Crowpaw huffed. “It still hurts.”

Tawnypelt sighed. “I know.” She pulled him back in. “I’m sorry he said those things. But when he feels better he’ll apologize to ya.”

“He didn’t the others times.” The warrior was silent. 

“Why even bother defending him?” Crowpaw snarled, his anger returning.

She struggled for words. “Because… he is good. I don’t know what’s goin’ on with him, but he really ain’t like this.” She smiled sadly. “You should’ve seen him when we were growin’ up… I just want my little brother back.” She glanced at Crowpaw, and her smile turned loving. “But now I have another one.” She ruffled the fur on Crowpaw’s head. He laughed and leaned into her side. 

“Hey, where’s Purdy?” Asked Stormfur, noticing the old tom’s absence. Every-cat looked around; Purdy was nowhere to be seen. 

“Tsk. Maybe he finally left.” Crowpaw growled. “Good riddance, after all the trouble he’s caused.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Hey. You all want to hear a scary story?” Feathertail suggested, waving her tail happily. Crowpaw, Tawnypelt, and Squirrelpaw nodded eagerly. Stormfur was less keen but still settled down to listen.

“Have you ever heard the story of Cloverpool?” The RiverClan molly began. They all shook their heads. “Well, the tale is about a WindClan medicine cat, named Cloverpool, but instead of healing cats, this medicine cat was a killer. Her first victim was a tom named Brambleheart. She led the unsuspecting cat out to the river. While his back was turned, she leapt at him, slashing his side. He collapsed to the ground, and as he was bleeding out, she whispered to him. “Sorry. Don’t have any herbs to heal this one.” Poor Brambleheart could only watch in horror as his attacker then grabbed a rock and smashed it into his head. Then she dragged his body into the river, and let him wash away.”

“Her next victim was a molly, her own littermate, Weaselflight. Her sister knew something was up, and Cloverpool admitted to the killing. She told Weaselflight that she would lead her sister to her mate’s body, but instead Cloverpool knocked her unconscious. When Weaselflight awoke, she was in the tangles of a fox-trap, all four limbs trapped. Cloverpool appeared. Weaselflight begged her sister to spare her, but Cloverpool just laughed. Then, she stabbed Weaselflight with many small, sharp rocks. Weaselflight cried out in pain, pleading with her sister to stop, but eventually there were too many wounds, and she bled out.”

“The third unfortunate soul was another molly named Brightcloud. She made the very bad decision to visit Cloverpool that sunrise for a thorn stuck in her paw. She entered the den, and the medicine cat greeted her cheerfully. After examining the paw, Cloverpool gave her some herbs, saying they would numb the pain of the thorn being pulled. Brightcloud, not thinking anything of this, ate the herbs, and then the world went black. She woke to Cloverpool tearing into her belly. Terrified, Brightcloud tried to scream, to run, but her body wouldn’t move—she was paralyzed. All she could do was watch helplessly as the medicine cat ripped out her insides, killing her.”

“By this point, the Clan was in hysteria. They had no idea what was going on—what was happening to their Clanmates, and they became even more panicked when Brambleheart’s body had been found in the banks of RiverClan territory. But soon Cloverpool’s villainy would be revealed, when she made the mistake of killing her last victim.”

“Juniperpaw had been Brambleheart’s apprentice, and he vowed to avenge his mentor’s despicable death. He had grown suspicious of Cloverpool, as the molly was always the last cat to have been seen with the cats who had disappeared. So, one night he followed her out of camp. They traveled far away from the Clans, and going into a tall patch of grass, Juniperpaw lost her. But Cloverpool had known that the young tom had been following her, and she charged at him from out of the grass. They clawed and bit and screeched until they were both tired and bloody. Juniperpaw had lost a lot of blood, but he was determined to bring justice for his mentor and the others who had befallen his fate, and he took off running, back to the Clan. Cloverpool ran after him.”

“Juniperpaw’s heart was pounding, his paws hitting the dirt with such force it rattled his body, but he didn’t stop. But the molly chasing him was swift, and she was gaining on him. Juniperpaw pushed harder. He pushed, and he pushed, and he pushed, but she drew closer still. Juniperpaw still didn’t stop. He jumped and landed hard on his side. Cloverpool leapt after him, meeting her bloodthirsty claws in his exhausted flesh. She tore into him, ripping off all his fur and scoring his face until he was completely unrecognizable. Satisfied, she lifted her head, and she was horrified.”

“She was in WindClan’s camp, and every-cat was awake, staring at her and what she had done. Then she was attacked from all sides. Thrown down at the paws of her leader, she was condemned to exile, but not without being gifted a slash to the face by Flamestar, disfiguring her, just as she had done to brave Juniperpaw.”

“But the story doesn’t end there. Some say Cloverpool still wanders to this very age, on the hunt for her next victim: a kittypet, a loner, or even a wayward group of Clan cats, perhaps? It could be any one of us.” Feathertail stepped closer to her friends. “You. Or you. Or even… you!” She jumped in Stormfur’s face, but her brother had no reaction, only looking at her with a bored expression. “Oh, come on, Storm. You weren’t even a little scared?”

“Nope.” Stormfur yawned. “That story was so obviously fake, and it takes a lot to scare me.”

There was a flash of lightning and the boom of a thunderclap. The group whipped their heads to the shelter’s entrance, and there stood a figure in the rain.

“Ahhh! Cloverpool!” Stormfur dove under his sister, shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Crowpaw raced up, and Tawnypelt unsheathed her claws, both snarling warnings.

“Well howdy, youngin’s!” Greeted the figure, somehow now familiar. Then it stepped inside, pushing something, and they saw that it was only Purdy; he had brought a kittypet bowl with him. 

“Purdy? Where’d you go?” Said Stormfur, removing himself from his hiding place. Feathertail glared at him, and he smiled sheepishly.

“And what’s that?” Questioned Squirrelpaw, going up to the bowl and sniffing at its contents. 

Purdy let out a jovial purr. “It’s milk! Kinda like what ya suckle from yer mother as a kitten, but Upwalkers get it from cows.”

“Oh. Cool!” Squirrelpaw splashed her head into the liquid without a second thought.

“Squirrelpaw!” Feathertail bounded up to her. Squirrelpaw raised her head, her whiskers gleaming with white and her green eyes shining in delight.

“Mmm. This is delicious! Try it, Feths!” She gestured to the bowl. Feathertail scrutinized it, then took a delicate lap of the milk. When she was finished, she turned to Squirrelpaw with a smile.

“That is good!” She flicked her tail to invite the rest to come enjoy the treat. Stormfur went first, then Tawnypelt, and Crowpaw followed more cautiously. 

“Wow. This is amazing.” Stormfur swooned, swiping his tongue over his muzzle. Tawnypelt meowed praise beside him. “Crow?”

Crowpaw stared at the bowl. The liquid definitely looked like milk, and the others seemed fine after drinking it, but he still wasn’t sure he should, too. He caught Stormfur’s eye, and the tom nodded. Crowpaw felt eased again, and this time, he listened. He lapped at the milk, and he was pleasantly surprised at the sweet, full taste it possessed. 

“What’s that?” Came a gruff voice behind them. Crowpaw turned to Brambleclaw, who had finally decided to quit his moping. The apprentice frowned at the warrior’s arrival.

“It’s milk!” Squirrelpaw exclaimed. “And it’s really good! Come try some.” She pushed the bowl to him. 

Brambleclaw bent his nose to the milk, and after giving it a wary sniff, took a drink. He lifted his head, and his eyes went wide. Then he thrust his muzzle back into the bowl, voraciously lapping up the milk. Tawnypelt laughed at him.

“So, why’d you go and get this, Purdy?” Meowed Stormfur. The loner’s enthusiasm dissipated, and he flatted his ears in shame.

“I wanted ta give y’all a treat ta make up fer leadin’ ya wrong and gettin’ attacked by those rats. I didn’t mean ta cause trouble. I jus’ wanted ta help.”

Feathertail and Stormfur shared a sad glance, and Squirrelpaw looked down at her paws. Even Crowpaw felt bad; despite all the obstacles they’ve faced after meeting Purdy, the old tabby really hadn’t meant to inflict harm.

And I had been the one to tell him to go away.

Tawnypelt purred. “Ya know, Purdy? You’re alright.” The tom beamed at her.

Feathertail padded to Purdy, rubbing her muzzle against his side. “Thank you. You really have helped us, even with some setbacks. We would still be helplessly ambling around Twolegplace if it weren’t for you.” 

Purdy licked the top of her head. “No, thank y’all. You’ve gave my life new purpose. It’s… been a long while since I’ve had a family.”

Every-cat smiled.

A low, growl-like sound could suddenly be heard. 

Stormfur gulped. “Cloverpool?” He slowly looked over his shoulder, and his expression blanked in realization. “Oh.”

Crowpaw glanced back as well. Brambleclaw had fallen asleep, snoring like a hibernating hedgehog, the bowl of milk completely empty.

Tawnypelt purred at her brother. “Aww. Ain’t he adorable?” She limped to him, curling up and nosing his cheek affectionately. He hiccuped.

The others went to gather around the pair, preparing to sleep themselves. Crowpaw snuggled next to Tawnypelt. 

Feathertail held her tail wide to Purdy, and he smiled, going to plop down beside her. Her tail laid around him comfortingly.

Crowpaw rested his chin on his paws, and let sleep encompass him.

Chapter Text

Brambleclaw awoke to the feeling of an unsettling chill creeping through his body. He looked around; his surroundings were a dark and empty forest, and his friends were nowhere to be found. The chill crawled up his spine. 

Taking a nervous gulp, he rose to his paws, and trekked cautiously through the malevolent woods, feeling the uncomfortable sensation of eyes watching him from the shadows, following his path.

It seemed as though he had been traveling for moons when he heard a commotion ahead of him. His spirit brightened; perhaps it was his friends, looking for him, and he wasn’t alone after all. Brambleclaw thought he could hear his name being called. 

“I’m coming!” He thundered toward the sound, but as he drew closer the call became more ghostly, like a luring wail, but it didn’t phase him. He galloped faster, and finally burst through the bushes, but what he saw before him made him stop dead in his tracks. 

It looked like a Gathering. The scents of the Clans flooded his senses, but there was another, more disturbing, scent drifting in the air as well: blood. Why was he smelling blood at a Gathering? This was a time of peace—no fighting was allowed. Then another troubling realization struck him: the leaders, where were they? 

Brambleclaw couldn’t see them anywhere. They weren’t atop the Great Rock, addressing the Clans. However, there was a cat who stood in the deputies’ place—a dark tabby. Brambleclaw thought he looked familiar, but he couldn’t make out his face amongst the shadows aside from his glowing, deep blue eyes. He glared at Brambleclaw, and a grim smile crept over his face, his teeth gleaming unnaturally. Brambleclaw turned away, and began to push through the crowd of cats, trying to find Firestar.

He finally spotted a fiery pelt amongst them. Elated with relief, he raced to his leader.

“Firestar! Thank StarClan I found you!” But the cat that turned to him was not Firestar. Brambleclaw’s heart dropped. It was Squirrelpaw, or at least, he thought it was. She was covered in brutal scars, a really nasty one marking her left eye, and half of her right ear was gone. But the most unnerving part was that all of her cheerfulness had disappeared. She looked at him, square in the face, with no emotion. 

“Squirrelpaw,” Brambleclaw choked out, “what happened to you?” 

The molly blinked slowly. Then, she turned her head and pointed it up at the Great Rock. Brambleclaw followed her gaze, but only saw gray clouds. Then suddenly, the clouds parted, uncovering a dark shape: a massive, brown tabby with haunting amber eyes. Brambleclaw would have almost mistaken him for Tigerstar, but only if he didn’t know his own face so well. 

The cat above stared back at Brambleclaw, and Brambleclaw’s breath caught in his throat. This new Brambleclaw was hunched over menacingly, giving him the most evil grin imaginable. 

“That’s what happened to me.” Squirrelpaw rasped slowly. Then the evil Brambleclaw began to laugh, but not a good kind of laugh. It was dark, and dangerous. It started off low, like a deep rasp, but it grew louder, and louder, until he was cackling. The blue-eyed tom joined his companion, and their howls echoed in Brambleclaw’s ears. His mind was racing. How did this happen? Why was it happening? Was this his future? What would make him do something like this?

The guffaws continued, and Brambleclaw slowly staggered back, trying to get away. 

“Before you go,” called his evil clone, “you might want to take a look at this!” He looked down, and Brambleclaw let out a fearful gasp.

Below the Great Rock, cats had finally moved out of the way, revealing the Clan leaders themselves. They were dead, all of them. Dead. Brambleclaw’s belly heaved at the sight of Firestar’s slit throat, blood stained pelt, and glazed eyes. The evil Brambleclaw let out another maniacal laugh. 

“Why did you do this?!” Brambleclaw cried, tears pouring down his face. He was answered with more laughs. Angry, Brambleclaw wiped away his tears, slid out his claws, and bolted for the Great Rock. The evil Brambleclaw stopped laughing abruptly, and his face contorted with fury.

“Get him!” He snarled, and like lightning the Clan cats flashed after Brambleclaw. They pounced on him, clawing and biting. They pulled him back away from the Great Rock, spitting furiously.

“No!” Brambleclaw roared. “Let me go!” He tried to fight back, but the might of so many cats was too overpowering—he was trapped. He looked up one more time at his evil image, who was staring down at him, a delighted grin on his face. Brambleclaw knew he was defeated, knew he could do nothing to fight back, so he just screamed. He screamed out of fury, out of fear, and out of sadness. He screamed, even though his voice was about to give out. He screamed until he couldn’t scream anymore. 

A paw swiped him hard in the head, and Brambleclaw was jolted out of his nightmare. 

Breathing heavily, cold sweat soaking his pelt and his heart pounding, he desperately looked around. Everything looked normal. Everything was quiet. There was no bloody Gathering, no dead leaders, no strange blue-eyed cat, and best of all: no evil alternative. Brambleclaw then turned his gaze to Squirrelpaw, who was curled up beside him as usual, seeming undisturbed. He let himself breathe normally again when he saw that she had no scars and ripped ear, and even in sleep she looked happy. She was okay. 

Brambleclaw stood up, shaking. He walked slowly past his friends, exiting the gap they were sleeping in and sat himself down far away from it. He could see in the distance light rising from the horizon, mixing with the night. Dawn was approaching. 

As the sky grew lighter, Brambleclaw sat, thinking. Was this just a normal dream, or another sign from StarClan? Was it showing his destiny? He already thought he perhaps really was meant to follow in his father’s paw-steps, but to have that confirmation from StarClan made him want to be sick. He really truly didn’t want to be evil.

Was he really going to kill Firestar, the cat that was more of a father to him than Tigerstar himself? Was he really going to hurt Squirrelpaw, the cat that was so annoying and yet so precious? Was he really going to rule all the Clans, and ruin every other cat’s lives—his friend’s lives? What was to become of him?

“Brambleclaw! Brambleclaw!” Some-cat was calling his name excitedly. Brambleclaw turned to see Feathertail racing toward him from the enclosed space.

“I’ve had it!” She exclaimed as she drew closer.

“Had what?” He asked her, utterly confused.

“My saltwater sign!” She let out a delighted purr. “I dreamt of padding along a stretch of stony ground, with water washing over it. When I bent down to take a drink, the water was all salty, and I woke up tasting it. I can’t wait to tell Crowpaw! He’ll be so happy to hear it.”

“That’s great, Feths.” Brambleclaw stared at the ground.

“Are you alright?” She padded up beside him, sitting with her pelt brushing against his.

Brambleclaw sighed. “You’re not the only one who had a dream.”

The molly blinked at him. “A saltwater dream?”

“Heh. I wish.” He replied grimly. “I don’t really know how to explain it to you, but it was just… scary.” He closed his eyes tight, trying to push away the awful memory and bury it deep into his subconscious.

Feathertail leaned gently into him in comfort. Brambleclaw tensed, but he allowed the embrace, the touch of her soft fur making him feel as though he were laying in a pile of feathers, a soothing image. It also reminded him of being hugged by his mother, and he fiercely wished himself back home with her and Firestar. 

Maybe they would know what’s going on with me.

“Brambs?” Feathertail whispered. She sounded unsure of something. “I don’t mean to take away from your troubles, but since we’re on the subject I thought I’d ask. You mentioned before having a dream about the sun-drown-place, and that Tawnypelt had one, too. Do you mind telling me what they were about?”

Brambleclaw didn’t understand why she was asking, but she would probably explain after he told her about the dreams, and hopefully doing so would erase the painful worry from her eyes—he hated to see his friends upset.

“Uh, no. I don’t mind.” He described the events of his dream first, the recall of the dreadful memory sending shivers up his spine. Then he explained Tawnypelt’s. “Why did you want to know? Did you have a sun-drown-place dream too?”

Feathertail nodded, her expression still uneasy. “But my dream was very different from the two of you. In mine, I was standing outside a cave with jagged rocks hanging from the mouth like teeth. Suddenly a badger walked out, and told me to follow her. I did what she asked, venturing inside the cave. I looked away for only a moment, but when I turned back she was gone. Then the ground began to shake. I looked up to see long, pointed rocks attached to the cave’s ceiling trembling, then one broke off and plummeted toward me. I screamed, but thankfully I woke up just a mouse-tail before it pierced me.”

“I wonder,” she turned her blue eyes up at Brambleclaw, “do you think these dreams mean more than just the location of the sun-drown place? It seems too strange to not be intentional that the three of us had such distinctly different dreams, all focusing more on those differences with the only constant being in the background.” She paused. “Well I guess your’s was centered the most on the sun-drown-place, but the drowning still had too much focus on it to not be important itself.”

Brambleclaw paled at the question. He sure hoped not—he didn’t feel like drowning anytime soon, and definitely didn’t want one of his best friends to be stabbed by a rock. 

“I-I don’t think so.” He stammered, not confident in his answer, but couldn’t bear to tell her she was right, for both of their sakes. “It seems silly for StarClan to put two messages in one dream that are unrelated to one another. Those parts more likely came from underlying thoughts and feelings in our own lives, and they manifested themselves in the StarClan given dream, but StarClan themselves didn’t add them.” Saying his perception aloud actually made him believe it more, and the explanation calmed him a bit.

Maybe that’s the truth behind my nightmare as well.

“Okay, I guess that makes sense.” Feathertail responded, though she really didn’t look all that convinced. Brambleclaw’s chest tightened.

“Hey, don’t worry.” He touched his nose to her cheek. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. I promise.” 

She smirked at him. “You sound like Stormfur.”

Brambleclaw chuckled. “Well you know what they say: great minds think alike.” This made Feathertail laugh.

“Do you think Crowpaw had a sun-drown-place dream also?” He asked the molly.

“Maybe you should ask him.” Her tone slipped into soft disapproval, her gaze now much harsher. “I know you haven’t talked to him yet.”

Brambleclaw inwardly cringed in dread, and frustration prickled under his fur. He really wished she would stop bothering him about this. “I’ll do it eventually, okay.” He growled.

“Well don’t wait too long. Otherwise it won’t mean much.” She sounded slightly annoyed.

“You know not every-cat is meant to be friends with each other, right?” His anger was growing.

“Yes, but I think you two are.” Brambleclaw was about to retort, but he didn’t want to continue the argument and further sour their heartfelt conversation, so he shut his jaws.

Feathertail looked to the rising sun. “Come on, we should get back to the others, now.” She began padding back to the enclosed space.

Brambleclaw frowned, not ready to return yet, but he followed her lead.

The pair entered the gap, and were immediately greeted with an excited shout. “There you are!” Squirrelpaw bounded up to them, and Crowpaw stalked up behind her. “We were wondering where you’d gone. What were you doing?”

Feathertail purred at the apprentice. “Just talking.” She flicked Brambleclaw’s ear affectionately with her tail, and he was glad to know she held no hard feelings against him despite their brief quarrel.

To the warriors’ surprise, both apprentices’ faces scrunched in unhappiness, and they kind of looked like they wanted to kill them.

“What were you talking about?” Said Squirrelpaw scornfully. 

Brambleclaw and Feathertail shared a confused glance.

“Um, it’s a little personal.” Feathertail mewed apologetically. “But Crowpaw, I had my saltwater sign!”

The gray-black tom’s disgruntled expression lifted. “Really? That’s awesome!” He beamed at her. “Hey, uh, I was thinking… could you maybe show me some more RiverClan techniques? Like battle moves, or something..?” He shifted his paws bashfully, a deep blush spreading over his face. “Learning how to fish was fun.”

“Ooo, yes! Please please!” Squirrelpaw bounced up and down, all animosity forgotten. Crowpaw partially passed her a glare.

Feathertail purred brightly. “Of course! That would be great to help further your training as well.” She swished her tail for them to follow her, and all three cats departed.

Brambleclaw watched them leave, then stared into their sleeping space. Stormfur, Tawnypelt, and Purdy were still dozing, and feeling a yawn coming on, the tabby went to curl up next to them, falling into an undisturbed slumber.