Chapter Text
Or did she…?
Mosspaw glanced up at the bramble wall again. She could just...sneak after the Gathering cats, couldn’t she? Goldenflower had said she never made a fuss. So it wouldn’t matter if she went along with them.
Mosspaw looked around camp. Stonepelt, Goosefeather, and Larksong were all napping, as usual. Robinwing was watching Longkit and Icypaw make moss-balls together. Redtail and Willowpelt were sitting silently on opposite sides of camp. They couldn’t break their silent vigils if they saw Mosspaw leave.
Mosspaw got to her patched paws and padded quietly over to the bramble wall. She squeezed through, tail-tip disappearing through the thorny brambles. Her heart was pounding as she followed the scent trail of her Clanmates. The thought of Mistykit and Stonekit fueled her, and she ran faster, the night wind blowing her fur forward.
Eventually she got to the river. A Twoleg bridge was crossing over it, and Mosspaw spotted her Clanmates on the way to Fourtrees, which was a giant lump in the distance. Mosspaw laid low in the tall grasses, waiting till they got far away enough that she could run along.
Her paw pads scraped the rough ground as she got up, walking very quietly from behind. Rosetail and Thistleclaw were trailing behind, murmuring about Snowfur, Thistleclaw’s mate. They didn’t seem very happy, and their tails were twined. But then Thistleclaw said something about Spottedpaw, and Rosetail pulled away from him with a gasp. Thistleclaw watched her go, muttering to himself angrily.
Mosspaw was confused, but waited for him to catch up. Fourtrees got closer and closer, and Mosspaw hadn’t been seen yet. But she would stick out in the dark with her light pelt. She had to be careful.
Sunstar stopped at the top of a tall slope, and Mosspaw could smell many strange scents from below. She watched ThunderClan pour into a clearing surrounded by four massive oak trees and mingle with other cats she’d never seen before. Mosspaw’s claws dug into the soil as she looked around for the familiar gray pelts of her siblings, but she couldn’t see them yet. She hoped they had come, or else her escapade would be for nothing.
Mosspaw decided to go a bit further in. She crept down from the slope and into a crowd of cats that smelled like slimy fish. She knew it was RiverClan, then. They all had sleek, long pelts and bright eyes. The fish were feeding them well…
The cats were all listening to a tabby tom with a mangled jaw speak to them. Mosspaw’s eyes grew wide. What had happened to him? She saw a dark brown tom standing beside him, probably his deputy. But he didn’t seem very confident, just nervous and twitchy.
“Hey, who’re you?”
Mosspaw looked over her shoulder. A spotted golden she-cat was glaring at her, a brown tabby she-cat and gray tabby tom standing beside her. “You’re not part of RiverClan,” she snarled.
“Sorry,” Mosspaw stepped back. “I didn’t mean to…”
“Give her a break, Leopardfur, she’s barely a kit,” the tabby she-cat said, making Mosspaw’s fur burn in embarrassment. “Hi, there. I’m Sedgecreek, and this is Leopardfur and Reedtail. Which Clan are you from?”
“Th-ThunderClan.” Mosspaw said. This wasn’t going as planned.
“Oh, they’re over there,” Reedtail nodded toward her Clanmates. “They just arrived. You must have gotten separated.”
“Okay,” Mosspaw said, swallowing. “Thanks.”
“Hey, you look like someone,” mewed Leopardfur. “Oh, you’re Oakheart’s kit.”
Mosspaw’s eyes grew wide. “No, I’m not, I’m from ThunderCl—”
“Mosskit, isn’t it?” Leopardfur said, ignoring Sedgecreek and Reedtail’s pleas for her to stop. “Yeah. Your mom’s a rogue now, and your dad is Oakheart. I think Mistypaw and Stonepaw are here.”
“Leopardfur, stop ,” Sedgecreek shoved her aside and stared down at Mosspaw. “She’s just...gotten you confused with another cat from RiverClan, trust me!”
But Mosspaw wasn’t listening. A loud ringing had entered her ears, and it wasn’t going away. There was so much information she had to process. Mistykit and Stonekit...no, Mistypaw and Stonepaw...were alive. In RiverClan. And her father...was Oakheart? She thought it was Thrushpelt! It had to be Thrushpelt!
Mosspaw stumbled back, her legs buckling. “No, no...it can’t be,” she murmured. She looked around and hundreds of unfamiliar faces, head spinning. She stepped back quickly. Everything she had known was...broken now.
She was a half-Clan kit.
Maybe you should be catching fish.
Leopardfur, stop!
If I told you, it would ruin your happiness.
If I told you, it would ruin your happiness.
Leopardfur, stop!
Maybe you should be catching fish.
The next thing Mosspaw knew, she was running. Her paws hit the ground with loud thumps and warm tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t know where she was, but she was bolting through the tall grass and it smelled like rabbit.
She couldn’t believe this was real. This had to be a dream. She closed her eyes and kept trying to wake up from this terrible nightmare. She didn’t have any blood family. Not even Thrushpelt. They were all gone, somewhere else, across the widest river in the world.
Suddenly, Mosspaw tripped on a twig and rolled down a hill, her pelt tearing and aching. She landed in a dusty clearing, eyes shut tight and body limp. Was she dead? She hoped so.
It felt like she laid there for hours. The grass brushed her as if it was trying to wake her up. Her face was stained with tears and everything hurt. She didn’t want to get up. All she could think of was the lies she’d been told, and how her Clan had been suspicious of her. She should have known…
When Mosspaw could see light returning to the world, she knew she had to get up. Slowly and shakily, she got to her dirt-stained paws, licking down her ruffled fur. What would ThunderClan think when she returned? No doubt they’d be disappointed. She had broken many rules tonight.
She began dragging herself across the moors, not bothering to pick up the pace. If WindClan found her at this point, it wouldn’t make anything worse. She got to the Twoleg bridge eventually, staring at it and wondering if it would be worth it to go across.
She shook her head. It wasn’t fair.
Fourtrees was empty. And Mosspaw hadn’t even found her littermates. But she’d found out a secret she never wanted to know. Why had she been so stupid in yearning for answers? Now she knew she never even needed them at all. Thrushpelt was right. It had ruined her happiness now that she knew the truth.
Oakheart was her father. No wonder Mistypaw and Stonepaw were in RiverClan. Bluefur had brought them there. That’s what she had been doing the night Mosskit had nearly frozen. She’d been taking them to RiverClan, not playing a game. What a liar. Mosspaw’s eyes narrowed as she watched the sunlight shimmer on the water’s surface. Stupid Bluefur. Stupid Oakheart. Stupid...everything was.
Soon, Mosspaw returned to the sheltered woods. In the distance she could see Willowpelt and Spottedpaw gathering herbs in the woods. Willowpelt looked energized for somebody who had stayed up all night. Redtail was probably dead asleep back at camp. Mosspaw got low to the ground, making sure they didn’t see her.
She caught another shrew on the way back, just so she could have something to show the Clan. She knew it probably wouldn’t help.
Through the bramble wall she could see her Clanmates. Icypaw was practicing a hunting crouch with Lionheart, but he didn’t look into it. There was worry in his ice-blue eyes, and Mosspaw felt a twinge of guilt. She hadn’t meant to make him feel nervous for her.
She slowly padded through the bramble wall, head lowered in shame. Nobody seemed to notice her until she dropped her shrew on the fresh-kill pile. “Mosspaw!” Icypaw cried. “You’re back!”
He ran over to her, pressing his small black body into hers. “I was so worried. I didn’t know what had happened when you were gone. And then the Gathering cats came back without you and they said you’d run off. I didn’t know what to do!” he said. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re back!”
“Mosspaw,” another lower voice startled her. She saw Sunstar looking over her, but he didn’t seem particularly mad. “You’ve returned, then. You left camp and then ran off from the Gathering. Everyone thought you were killed.”
It wouldn’t be the first time, Mosspaw thought gloomily.
“She knows about her...parentage now,” White-eye offered from nearby. “I was talking to Ottersplash from RiverClan. Three of their warriors told her about Oakheart and Bluefur.”
“Oh,” Sunstar said quietly. “Mosspaw, I’m sorry you weren’t notified of your...situation before. But you were told not to leave camp last night. I must punish you, it’s only fair.”
“Oh, don’t give her a hard time.” Lionheart rumbled. “She’s still young. And you would be upset if you knew that everybody in your Clan had lied to you.”
Mosspaw gave the golden cat a grateful glance, but he just gave her a brief smile.
“I know,” Sunstar replied. “And I won’t make your punishment harsh. But you cannot leave camp for a moon.”
Mosspaw stared up at him. “But…”
“Your training can go on inside camp,” Sunstar said. “But I cannot have apprentices running around when they’re not supposed to. Don’t worry. It’s only a moon.”
Mosspaw sighed miserably. She knew she couldn’t argue with him, and she was too tired as well. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to rest now.” She wandered over to the apprentice’s den without waiting for a response. Ducking her head inside the ferns, she crawled into an empty nest, not caring if it was hers or not. Closing her eyes, she found sleep at last.
❄❅❆
When she eventually woke up, it was around sunhigh. She stretched her legs but didn’t leave the den. All of the horrible things she’d heard flooded back, and she sighed. She felt like a kit again, forbidden to leave camp. She might as well move back into the nursery with Longkit.
The next few days passed slower than a turtle crawling. Mosspaw changed bedding for everybody’s nest twice over, patched up the windy spots in dens, and organized the fresh-kill pile. She picked up leaves and picked berries and watched cats come in and out. She was so bored it was hard to stand it.
Willowpelt moved into the nursery. She was expecting kits, which was strange because she hadn’t even been a warrior for a half-moon. She was excited, and Mosspaw couldn’t help feeling happy for her. But whenever she looked at the young gray queen in the nursery, it reminded her of Bluefur, expecting her half-Clan kits, and it hurt.
Icypaw and Runningpaw tried their best to entertain her when they got back from outside-of-camp duties. They showed her new battle moves they’d learned and how to hunt birds. Sometimes, Goldenflower taught her things, but it wasn’t the same as being outside of camp, where she could actually practice.
Mosspaw didn’t look at Thrushpelt. She hated herself for it, but she was mad at him. She was mad at him for not telling her. Why couldn’t he have just spoiled her happiness earlier on? It wouldn’t hurt as bad now. Mosspaw felt isolated, on her own little stone in a rushing river…
She was asleep one night when a grunt echoed from outside of camp. She lifted her head, peering outside. Something was bumbling around the warrior’s den, but she was sure it was just the moonhigh patrol returning. Something about the grunting made her curious, though. She needed to know what it was.
“Wake up,” she muttered to Icypaw. “Something is outside.”
“It’s just...a warrior,” the black tom murmured, still half asleep.
“No, it isn’t,” Mosspaw said. “Wake up, Icypaw. Please.”
“Okay, fine ,” grumbled Icypaw. He opened his blue eyes and rubbed them. Mosspaw slowly crept out from the ferns, ears pricking as she got closer to the warrior’s den. How she was the only one awake was a mystery to her. She could see a black-and-white shape...no, two. No, three . They were circling the warrior’s den, and one had its long muzzle stuck inside. They were huge!
“What are those things?” Icypaw whispered.
“I don’t know,” Mosspaw said. “I think they’re called badgers.”
“Should we wake up Sunstar?”
Mosspaw glanced back toward the Highrock and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll do it. Go back to the den and make sure nothing bad happens.”
“Okay.” Icypaw trailed back into the clump of ferns and Mosspaw ran into Sunstar’s den. Her heart was pounding, and her paws shook as she got closer to the leader.
“Sunstar,” she murmured, not daring to get too close. “Sunstar?”
“H-hm?” the tom lifted his head and rubbed his eyes.
“There are...badgers in the camp.” Mosspaw said. “I think.”
“Badgers?” Sunstar said, amber eyes wide. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Mosspaw said. “They’re around the warrior’s den.”
Sunstar smoothed down his fur and quickly ran to the opening of his den. “Oh, StarClan give me strength,” he was whispering. “There are three of them.”
“What do we do?” Mosspaw mewed. “We can’t just let them walk around and hurt anybody.”
“We must...we must retaliate,” said Sunstar.
“We have to fight them?”
“Yes.”
“But what if somebody gets hurt?”
Sunstar narrowed his eyes, his claws unsheathing. “It is a risk we will have to take.” Hackles rising, he began running over to the badgers, a yowl in his throat. One of them turned around, and he sliced its muzzle. Blood poured from the scratches, and it roared in pain.
With that, every cat was awake. Icypaw sped out of the apprentice’s den, Runningpaw and Mousepaw behind. The warriors came out too, barraging the three badgers. A full-on battle broke out then, and Mosspaw knew she had to be a part of it.
She ran around camp, making sure the elders and queens were alright. Robinwing was standing in front of Willowpelt and Longkit, watching with glittering amber eyes as the battle raged on. The elders were lying near the back of their den, but their claws were out in case they had to fight.
“ Mosspaw!”
She whirled around to see a badger backing Icypaw and Mousepaw into a corner. “I’m coming!” she cried. Her lungs burning, she bolted over and leaped onto the badger’s back. She remembered a battle move Icypaw and Runningpaw had taught her and clawed the badger’s ears as it spun around, trying to hurt her. Icypaw glanced back at Mousepaw, who was holding up a bleeding back leg, and jumped onto the badger’s head. He tore his claws down its eyes and it cried out in pain, trying to shake them both off. But Mosspaw held on like a bird to a tree branch. The badger used one of its paws to grab up onto its back, and Mosspaw closed her eyes tight as a searing pain spread across one of them. She could feel blood pouring down her face, and with a large fling, Mosspaw flew off the badger’s back and into the soil. She laid there for a moment, her head buzzing. Oww… She felt teeth in her scruff and somebody was dragging her, but she was in too much pain to open her eyes.
Soon she could smell herbs and more blood. “Featherwhisker...she’s hurt!” Thrushpelt’s voice echoed in her ears, and her heart filled with warmth. He had rescued her.
“Spottedpaw. Go help her,” Featherwhisker said, sounding panicked. Thrushpelt laid her onto a nest and Mosspaw shuddered as she felt some cool poultice over her eye. Her head was throbbing.
“It’ll be alright, Mosspaw,” murmured Spottedpaw. Mosspaw opened her good eye to see the tortoiseshell she-cat staring comfortingly down at her. Thrushpelt stood beside the medicine cat apprentice, his green eyes shining with worry.
“Just try and close your eyes, now,” Spottedpaw said. Mosspaw did as she asked, but her ears twitched as she heard the battle cries of her Clanmates outside. Had she done anything, clawing the badger that was cornering Icypaw and Mousepaw? Had she saved anybody?
Mosspaw felt Thrushpelt curl around her, his tail over her flank, and she felt guilty again. Even though Thrushpelt wasn’t her father, he loved her like any father would. She would never be angry at him again. She loved him so much…
Next thing Mosspaw knew, sunlight was streaming in through the den. Her eye was still hurting, and Thrushpelt wasn’t sleeping beside her anymore, but Icypaw was. He didn’t look very hurt except for a cut along his nose and a nicked ear, which were covered in cobwebs.
She looked around, closing her injured eye. Spottedpaw and Featherwhisker were asleep in their nest, and White-eye was beside Sparrowpelt. Both cats looked severely injured, and Mosspaw could see that Sparrowpelt had lost half of his tail. The wound was wrapped tightly. She could not see White-eye’s full face, but it was red and wounded too.
Outside, the Clan was trailing along slowly. Everybody looked distant and sad for some reason, and Mosspaw knew it couldn’t be good. She slowly slid out of Icypaw’s hold and limped towards the entrance of camp.
Her heart shattered to see two cats lying in the center of it all: Adderfang and Stormtail. They were dead.
Redtail, Willowpelt, Patchpelt, and Swiftbreeze were grooming Adderfang’s tabby pelt one last time. Dappletail looked over Stormtail’s body, something hollow in her eyes.
Mosspaw lowered her head. She’d never seen a dead cat before.
She decided not to go over to them.
Her eye was hurting some more, so she returned to the nest. She couldn’t believe this had happened. She felt a bit proud of herself: if she had never woken up, then something even worse might have happened. She let herself smile, but not too much. Two cats had died.
Wanting to distract herself, she ran her tongue through Icypaw’s black fur. He still looked tired, even in sleep. He needed to rest for longer, and so did she. For the next couple hours she and Icypaw laid in their nest, watching the clouds float by. Nobody really wanted to say anything.
Featherwhisker and Spottedpaw tended to White-eye and Sparrowpelt’s injuries. White-eye had lost her blind eye, so now she was only left with one. But she tried to be cheery and said that at least it wasn’t taking up any more space in her head. Sparrowpelt kept trying to twitch his wounded tail, but he winced whenever he did.
Mosspaw’s eye scratch was feeling better by the end of the day. She could almost open it all the way, but not quite. It sort of...locked halfway up. She knew that would probably get better in a few days. And since she was still forbidden to go outside of camp it had time to heal.
Mosspaw was pretty sure close to no one would go out of camp in the next few days anyway. Stormtail and Adderfang were taken off to be buried around sundown. Mosspaw was surprised to see Sunstar dragging himself up to the Highrock. His neck was scarred, and his eyes were tired. Featherwhisker stared up at his brother, pain in his eyes. “He’s lost a life,” he murmured. “Now he only has five left.”
“How did he lose his others?” mewed Icypaw, but Featherwhisker silenced him with a twitch of his tail.
“Cats of ThunderClan,” Sunstar called, his voice dry. “I cannot expect you to gather here and be cheery. It is a solemn day for us...we have lost two fantastic warriors and many of us are wounded. We must take time to rebuild, but to finish rebuilding we have to start. Will some cats volunteer for a hunting patrol?”
Rosetail, Tigerclaw, Smallear, Lionheart, and Dappletail went out. Mosspaw eventually went into the elder’s den to change their bedding. Larksong and Stonepelt stepped off of their nests willingly, but Goosefeather wouldn’t. The dappled gray cat was shivering and shaking, his eyes stretching wide and then shutting tightly in an instant. Mosspaw decided not to go near him.
“He’s a strange cat,” Larksong was saying as Mossspaw put in new moss for her. “He’ll stay up all night howling to cats that aren’t there.”
“He’s been like that for his whole life,” Stonepelt added. “Poor tom.”
Mosspaw stared at Goosefeather for a bit longer. He was muttering to himself. “I know, Stormta—I know! It’s not her fault. Don—stop yelling at me! I…”
“Is he talking to Stormtail?” Mosspaw whispered, tilting her head. She knew Goosefeather was a medicine cat, and that he could speak to the dead. But she thought that was only at the Moonstone.
“Maybe,” Larksong said, settling down into her nest. “Just don’t worry about him.”
“Thanks, Larksong,” Mosspaw said.
She padded out into the open air, going over to the nursery. Robinwing was sleeping, with Longkit between her paws. He laid on her belly, snoring softly. Willowpelt was grooming her pale gray fur, blue eyes sparkling brilliantly in the incoming sun. She nodded a greeting to Mosspaw as the apprentice came in.
“How’s your eye?” she said tenderly.
“Fine,” replied Mosspaw. “I can’t open it all the way, but...it’ll get better.”
“Good,” Willowpelt smiled, stepping off of her nest.
“So how does it feel to be a warrior?” Mosspaw asked. “Or...a queen?”
“Different, really,” Willowpelt murmured as to not wake up her denmates. “The Clan doesn’t boss you around anymore. They just let you do whatever you want to do. It’s strange, but nice.”
“I wish I could be like that,” Mosspaw sighed, pressing new lichen on top of the old. Willowpelt needed more bedding as her belly swelled. “I mean, Goldenflower’s nice n’ all, but...my training is really getting delayed by this whole ‘stay in camp’ thing.”
Willowpelt settled back onto her nest. “I know it must be hard for you.” she said. “To learn about your parentage and then to be kept from leaving camp. But you always have a friend in me if you want one.” Her tail draped over her belly. “And you will have a friend in my kits, too.”
Mosspaw’s eyes glowed with gratefulness. “Thanks, Willowpelt.”
The queen winked at her. “Don’t mention it.”