Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fireheart glanced around nervously, the kit in her jaws squirmed, letting out little high-pitched meows. Fireheart shushed her. Deeming the area safe, she padded over quickly to a hollowed-out tree. She placed the kit down inside, letting out a sigh of relief. The kit squirmed and whined, Fireheart gave it a quick lick to the head, before nudging it so it lay alongside its littermates.

With a final careful glance around, she moved into the tree herself, curling up around her kits. Settled, she lay on her side and watched fondly as her kits nursed, clambering over each other to get to her. With another sigh, she lay her head on her paws, eyes half-shut. If only she had known this would be her life after she first joined Thunderclan.

She wonders if she would have still accepted Bluestar’s offer if she had known how things would have turned out. Would she still have fallen for Tigerclaw? She didn’t know… A sharp squeal drew her from her thoughts, and she turned her head to see her second kit, done with her meal clambering over the others. With a light laugh, she picked the kit up and tucked her back in amongst the others.

No matter what the past, she knew she would never regret her kits, they were the best thing to have happened to her. Once her kits were again settled, she turned her head to stare at the sky, shrouded by tree branches and shadows. She could still make out stars, glimmering behind the dark leaves. What did Starclan have planned for her now?

Chapter Text

Fireheart did not know when her opinion on Tigerclaw changed.

Maybe it was when the tom nodded proudly when she mastered a move he had taught her? Maybe when it was when he chose the piece of prey she had caught?

Either way, something had changed between her and the dark tabby tom. Something that set the flickering embers inside of her on fire.

She was no stranger to the dark tom’s crimes. She trusted Ravenpaw’s word. Of course, she did. Yet, she couldn’t help but see a different side of the tom, one who was sweet and gentle with her. One who came to her defense in a Windclan skirmish, one who brought her prey while she was injured and comforted her when Graystripe left for Riverclan. The kind, calm side of Tigerclaw.

Regardless, she was determined to find out why he was acting so strange. However, when she finally had the courage to confront the tom, he was no where to be found.

With a muffled hiss of anger, Fireheart paced the clearing, waiting for his return. Brindleface sat beside the nursery with a curious look on her face. “What’s got you so wound up?” She meowed, flicking her tail for Fireheart to come sit beside her.

Fireheart weighed her decisions, still wanting to wait for the tom, however, she knew that pacing would only stress her out more so with a dejected sigh, she walked over to Brindleface. The queen let out a concerned meow when Fireheart slumped down beside her.

“Well?” She prodded. “It’s nothing,” Fireheart meowed, “really.” Brindleface frowned, “doesn’t look like nothing. You can tell me.”

Fireheart sighed, “it’s Tigerclaw…”

Brindleface let out a knowing meow, “what did the tom do this time?”

Fireheart sat up, “that’s the thing?! What hasn’t he done!? He keeps bringing me prey and asking to patrol or hunt with me! He moved his nest closer to mine when I said it was cold once! And now when I want to confront him, he’s nowhere to be seen!”

The glint in Brindleface’s eyes grew, “ahh, dear. I think I know the issue now.”

Fireheart turned to her, green eyes flashing, “please?!”

Brindleface sat up, curling her tail around her stomach. “It seems like the tom likes you.”

Fireheart froze, “likes me? No, your joking! He hates me! I mean, why would he like me? We barely know each other!”

Brindleface pushed Fireheart down, “maybe that’s the point. Maybe he wants to get to know you. As for him hating you, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tigerclaw like anyone! But he’s always had a soft spot for you, it seems like this is just the first time you’ve noticed.”

Fireheart sat down slowly, mentally going over every interaction she’s had with the tom. “He can’t though.”

“Can’t what?” Another voice cut in, Brindleface chirping a greeting. “Morning Speckletail, Frostfur. We’re discussing Tigerclaw!”

“Tigerclaw?” Speckletail grumbles, settling herself down in a patch of sunlight across from Brindleface, “the tom who likes Fireheart?”

“Was everyone aware of this aside from me!?”

Frostfur nudges Fireheart gently, “not everyone, dear. Us queens are just a bit better at telling then most others.”

Fireheart’s fur started to flatten again, “well… What do I do?”

“Do? That depends on you!”

“Speckletail, not now.” Brindleface cuts in, “what’s she’s trying to say is do you like him back?”

“Lik-k-e him? Tigerclaw!? No! No way! I-“ Fireheart cuts off.

Brindleface looks at her, eyes soft, “you sure?”

Fireheart doesn’t move, thinking to the way her heart burns every time the tom was near. She thought it was from distaste, but that doesn’t explain the way she becomes nervous whenever he’s watching. The way she finds her eyes following him. The way he stirred something in her, fanned some invisible spark to life like no one ever had.

She knew this feeling; she had seen it before. In the way Graystripe had loved Silverstream, how Cloudpaw loved Brightpaw. She couldn’t breathe. Did she...? Did she like Tigerclaw?

She looked up to lock eyes with the queens, “I think she sees it now,” Speckletail chuffs, “now that that’s done, can you bring me a mouse?”

“Speckletail!”

Fireheart stands and moves to the freshkill pile, mind racing a mile a minute, great Starclan! She likes Tigerclaw!

The sun was setting when the afore mentioned tom finally arrived back at Thunderclan camp. Fireheart avoided his gaze when he did, going about her duties.

Oh, how she wished Graystripe were still here. The tom was in Riverclan with his kits. He knew her better than anyone, he knew about Tigerclaw’s deeds, he would be able to help her!

Instead, she was alone, with only the burning truth of her newly discovered feelings to keep her warm.

“Fireheart!” She turned, to find Bluestar leaping down from Highrock.

“I know this is sudden, but I want you to guard the camp tonight. Mousefur’s injured herself and can’t.”

Fireheart wondered how she hadn’t noticed. She guessed her musing on Tigerclaw had distracted her more then she initially thought.

“Of course Bluestar,” she meowed. Bluestar turned partway then paused, looking back at her former apprentice.

“You’ve been very distant today, is something bothering you?”

Fireheart recoiled, “no. No. Nothing, I’m fine! Everything’s fine!”

Bluestar’s eyes narrowed, “you have never been a good liar, Fireheart.”

Fireheart’s eyes darted over to Tigerclaw, who was eating in front of the warrior’s den. Runningwind was recounting a story to Dustpelt and Sandstorm, Tigerclaw didn’t appear to be interested. The tom’s head swung around as if sensing her stare and the two made eye contact. She saw his eyes soften and she looked away in a hurry, staring at her paws in embarrassment.

Bluestar let out a laugh and Fireheart jolted back into the present, completing forgetting the leader’s presence. “Well, that makes sense,” she meowed, the same knowing glint Brindleface had burning in her eyes.

“W-what does?” she stuttered. Bluestar glanced between Tigerclaw, who had yet to take his eyes off her and Fireheart. Fireheart swallowed nervously, looking away.

Bluestar smiled, “it’s okay Fireheart. Love is a wonderful thing. Something every cat should experience. I’ll have Runningwind replace you on night duty.”

“It’s not love!” Fireheart cried out, backing away.

Bluestar frowned thoughtfully. “Very well, I’ll still have Runningwind on night duty. He clearly has more than enough energy,” she meowed, glancing at the tom who was reenacting some dramatic fight scene.

“Regardless, I expect to see more attention from you tomorrow,” the leader meowed, snapping back into the leader mode Fireheart knew so well. The brief moment of softness forgotten.

“Yes Bluestar.” Satisfied, the blue furred leader made her way into her den. Fireheart swallowed nervously, glancing and yep. He was still watching her. Feeling her fur prickle, she gave up the idea of eating and left for a walk. Hopefully, it would clear her head.

The walk was helping, that she knew. It would help even more if the clan deputy would stop following her. She felt her fur prickle when the tom picked up the pace to walk beside her. She said nothing and neither did he, the two merely walking companionably.

The squawk of a bird startling her out of her thoughts, causing her to trip over a root. With a gasp, she moved to try and catch herself only to find her fall buffered by soft fur.

“Steady, I got you.” The deep, smooth voice made her heart leap and she jerked away from him.

“I’m fine.”

Tigerclaw blinked at her before nodding, “of course.”

“Want to hunt?” The tom suggested, warm amber eyes staring at her.

She went to refuse before pausing.

Brindleface and Bluestar had made her question things, maybe she should do this just to get it over with? See if there really was anything? If there wasn't, she could go back to her life as normal. If there was... she shook her head, she'd worry about that if it happened, not a moment sooner!

3 Moons Later

“From this moment on! Tigerclaw is banished from Thunderclan! Any warrior who sees him on our territory has permission to kill!”

Fireheart sat in the nursery, fur mattered and eyes muted. At her side squirmed four tiny kits, their eyes and ears still sealed shut, little squeaks being emitted whenever one was disturbed.

She could feel the worried eyes of the other queens, but she didn’t turn her head.

In her mind, all she could see was Tigerclaw’s furious face. A face that had turned towards her and froze, grief and regret temporarily shining in his eyes before he turned and left.

Although she had exposed his traitorous actions for the good of her clan, her heart still yearned for him to be beside her, for him to play a role in his kits lives.

A rustle from the den entrance snapped her from her thoughts, Whitestorm entered the den, a shrew clenched in his jaws. He padded over and dropped it at her paws.

“You need to eat,” the deputy meowed, watching her with kind eyes.

Fireheart said nothing, merely turning her nose from the prey and resting her head on her paws.

Whitestorm’s eyes narrowed, “your kits need you to eat.”

At the mention of her kits, Fireheart turned to watch them, little bundles of fluff squirming helplessly at her belly. Her heart ached at the reminder of her ex-mate.

She could see him in them, even so young. Bramblekit had his fur and Leafkit had the same ears.

She turned back to the shrew and even though her stomach turned, she forced herself to take a bite.

Her kits needed her now more then ever. One parent had already let them down, she wouldn’t let them lose another.

Chapter Text

The first snow had arrived.

Fireheart kept the kits close to her, even as they tumbled about on stubby legs, eyes wide as a blanket of frost coated the ground.

Her heart warmed at the sight. They had grown so quickly and already she could tell they would be fine warriors.

Bramblekit and Squirrelkit were playfighting in front of the nursery while Tawnykit poked experimentally at a pile of snow. Leafkit sat determinedly at her side, fur fluffed from the chilly air.

“You not going to play, dear?” Fireheart asked, wrapping her fluffy tail around the tiny kit. Leafkit purred, leaning into the warmth.

“It’s cold!”

Fireheart huffed a laugh, trying to ignore the worry building in her chest. Leafbare was the worst time to have kits. The cold was a known killer and at half a moon old, Fireheart knew that her kits were some of the most at risk. The thought shook her, and she stood to her paws, pushing Leafkit further into the nursery.

“Go to the nest while I round up your littermates,” she ordered, gently. Leafkit squeaked at the loss of warmth before racing inside.

Fireheart watched her go with anxious eyes before a sharp squeal caught her attention. She turned around quickly, her head spinning at the momentum. When her gaze cleared, she spotted Tawnykit crawling her way out of a pile of snow, a grouchy look on her face. Her tortoiseshell fur covered in clumps of snow.

Bramblekit and Squirrelkit sat watching in amusement, the two pausing their playfight to watch their sister’s misfortune. Fireheart raced over, grabbing the kit by the scruff of her neck, and shaking gently to remove the last of the snow. Once free from the pile, she placed her down at her paws.

With a quick lick to the head, she glanced at her oldest two. “I think that’s enough playtime for now. Everyone to the nursery.”

“Awww!” Bramblekit and Squirrelkit complained, dragging their paws as Fireheart picked up Tawnykit again and headed inside.

Once all four kits were inside, she took one last look at the clearing. What she had hoped would be a light leafbare proved false as more crystal flakes fell from the sky.

Worry began to claw at her heart, she had only herself to keep the kits warm this leafbare.

Fireheart sat still and unmoving, like a bird before flight. Before her paced her leader, once dignified and graceful now reduced to a wreak.

Her proud stance and fiery passion had fled leaving only a chilled, flaking mirage vanishing in and out of sight. Dignity to insanity. Selfless to judgmental. Faithful to deranged.

Fireheart barely recognized her anymore. The gathering having only stolen what little light had still remained after Tigerclaw’s betrayal.

“Rouges! Rouges the lot of them!” She growled, pacing the floor of her den.

“Has Starclan turned their backs on me?! To make that traitor! That murderer! Leader of Shadowclan?!”

Her matted fur clung to her skinny frame, shivers wracking through the den from the leaf bare breeze.

Fireheart remained still; eyes glued to her leader. Beside her sat Whitestorm, a steady comfort where Bluestar wavered. The deputy’s eyes were worried, concern for his leader clear in his expression. Bluestar turned to face them, her blue eyes wide and cloudy.

“How can I trust Starclan if this is what they do to their warriors?! Rewarding traitors!?”

At this, Whitestorm stepped forward, placing his tail lightly over her shoulder. “How about we get some rest,” he soothed, guiding the old queen back to her nest.

“Our minds are clouded right now. A good night’s sleep will do us all well. We can discuss this more in the morning.”

As he spoke, he looked at Fireheart. She got the message and left the den, leaving the white-furred tom to look after their leader.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse.

She lifted her head to gaze up at the stars.

Had Starclan really forsaken them? Why would they gift Tigerstar nine lives? After all the tom had done?

Even as she loved him, she hated him. Hated how he felt no guilt in taking innocent lives, in betraying his clan and his family.

She crouched down, breath quickening. She felt split in two!

Her heart cried out for her mate and the family they have together, but her soul clung to her loyalty to the clan who had given her a home, to her leader, her mentor.

She clenched her eyes shut, memories flashing before her.

The first time she stepped foot into the forest. The first-time meeting Graystripe. Meeting Bluestar and Lionheart and Ravenpaw. Her first catch. Her first successful battle move. Ravenpaw’s tale and his escape. Silverstream’s death. Graystripe leaving. Tigerstar comforting her. The birth of their kits.

It all felt like too much.

Part of her wished she had never given up the life of a kittypet, if only to save her from this heartache.

“Mama?” The worried meow shook her from her stupor.

Lifting her head, she saw Bramblekit’s anxious gaze, his amber eyes a perfect mirror of Tigerstar’s.

“Mama? Are you alright?”

Fireheart took a deep breath, then another, trying to steady her racing heart.

What’s done is done. Right now, she has kits to take care of.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, getting to her paws and walking over. Bramblekit’s eyes met her own, eyes that seemed so wise and knowing for a kit so young.

With a quick lick on the head, she nudged the tom back into the nursery.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” She inquired, settling into her nest. Bramblekit stumbled over, blinking tiredly at her.

“You weren’t here,” he meowed, clambering in between Tawnykit and Leafkit. Fireheart’s chest grew warm, what a sweet kit.

“Well, I’m here now. Get some rest.”

“Are you gonna leave too?” He mumbled, already dozing off, “like dada did?”

The warmth in her chest turned to ice.

Is that what they thought?

“No! No. Never,” she murmured, tears running down her face. She brushed them away, leaning over to lick between his ears.

“Promise?”

She swept her tail around the four, drawing them in closer.

“I promise that no matter what, I will never leave you.”

Chapter Text

She had been right. The early frost was only the beginning.

Fireheart stared out at the steadily falling flakes worryingly.

A soft meow drew her eyes briefly away from the flickers of white.

“Staring at it won’t make it go away.”

Brindleface was staring at her from her nest, tail wrapped tight around herself to preserve warmth.

To her left lay Speckletail, the eldest queen wrapped tight around her only surviving kit. The death of Mistlekit had hit the clan hard, Speckletail especially. The queen’s protective gaze rarely leaving her son whenever Snowkit decided to wander.

The small tom had been quiet since his sister’s death. Fireheart hoped that her own kits, now old enough to play, could provide the young tom some comfort.

Frostfur and Goldenflower had gone hunting, their empty nests being used as fuel for mossball by the kits. Being kit-free and with the other nursery occupants more than able to watch the five kits, they had taken to hunting with the rest of the clan hoping to provide some relief as more cats fell ill.

Willowpelt slept huddled in her own nest, the new queens belly showing the beginnings of new life. Fireheart worried about how full the nursery was considering the timing of Leafbare but she knew the clan would keep them safe.

With a quick glance to make sure her kits were okay and not disturbing the other nursery residents with their play, she turned her attention back to Brindleface.

Fireheart and Brindleface had grown close ever since the queen had helped her figure out her feelings for Tigerstar.

The shecat had been her rock when the tom was exiled, and her kits first born. Always there to provide comfort and a shoulder to cry on. Fireheart could not be more grateful for older queen.

“Who knows! It might! Bluestar named me fire for a reason after all,” she teased in response to the tabby queen's comment.

Brindleface huffed a laugh before shifting and getting to her paws. She padded over to Fireheart and sat down beside her, glancing down anxiously at the two kits sleeping at her paws.

“How are they?” Fireheart swallowed; the good mood darkened by the question.

She glanced down herself at the two curled at her paws.

Shortly after Mistlekit’s death, greencough again struck the nursery. Tawnykit had fallen first, followed closely by Leafkit. Bramblekit and Squirrelkit were sharing a nest with Speckletail and Snowkit to hopefully prevent them from catching it. Normally, they would go into the medicine cats’ den, but Bluestar had not allowed it.

The blue furred leader had only continued to spiral since Tigerstar’s announcement and in a fit of anger, had refused to allow Yellowfang to treat the kits. Fireheart remembered the moment vividly, fury and pain churning through her body like the very fire she was named after.

Flashback

It had been subtle at first, just a cough here or a sneeze there.

Yellowfang had given the kit some catmint and she seemed to improve.

No one thought much more of it until one morning when Speckletail awoke the clan with a cry of “Mistlekit!”

The spritely shekit was still, chest rising and falling sporadically. Coughs would shudder through her thin frame causing her body to spasm.

Yellowfang had arrived quickly and rushed the kit into the medicine cat den, but it was already too late.

Fireheart watched on in horror and grief as the elders carried the small body away, her kits hidden away in the nursery.

Speckletail was despondent, clinging to a shell-shocked Snowkit desperately.

Snowkit… The poor tom.

He had always been different, communication come slow to him which made it hard for him to bond with other cats.

Mistlekit had been his tether, someone who always understood the kits slurred words. The two were rarely seen without the other, two peas in a pod. Mistlekit’s lively demeanor had always managing to bring Snowkit out of his shell.

The littermates had this special bond, Fireheart recalled seeing the two sitting together. Not a word leaving eithers mouth, just a series of facial movements, ear twitches and waving paws.

The two just got each other.

Now, Snowkit’s once quiet presence and lively eyes had gone dull. The tom sat quieter than ever in Speckletail’s grasp. His other half was gone.

The camp was quieter after that.

Even Bramblekit and Squirrelkit’s good natured arguing had fallen still. As young as they were, they understood that something had changed.

That had only been the beginning.

More and more cats started falling ill.

Goldenflower had spent days fretting over Swiftpaw until the tom finally began to recover.

Fireheart had prayed that Starclan be satisfied and leave the rest of the kits alone. Prayed that Mistlekit was safe in the paws but please! Let these kits stay safe in hers.

It had been quicker this time.

One morning she woke to the sound of coughing and stuttering breaths from Tawnykit. Leafkit wheezing softly beside her.

Brindleface had rushed to grab Yellowfang, her old friend coming to her side with worried eyes.

Cinderpaw’s nervous face peeking around her side.

“We caught it early,” she explained, voice rouge but gentle around the edges. “With some catmint and warmth, they should be up and running in no time.”

The elderly gray cat nudged Fireheart gently. Fireheart’s heart warmed. She knew her friend and former apprentice were more then capable of taking care of her sick kits. She pushed the image of Mistlekit’s still form from her mind. They had caught it early this time. They were prepared.

Yellowfang spoke up again, “Cinderpaw, go prepare another nest in the medicine cat den. I want to keep an eye on them for a little while.”

Cinderpaw nodded and raced off as fast as her injured leg allowed her.

Fireheart knew the death of Mistlekit weighed heavy on the old medicine cat, but she was nothing if not strong and she would put her duty to the clan above all else.

“Mama, what’s going on?” Squirrelkit meowed, the tiny kit squirming towards Leafkit and Tawnykit. “Are they okay?”

Fireheart grabbed her by the scruff and gently tugged her away from her sisters, her tail dragging Bramblekit along with her.

“Tawnykit and Leafkit are a little sick right now, so they are going to the medicine cat’s den until they are better,” she soothed, ignoring the fear pricking at her heart.

Bramblekit’s wide eyes stared into her own, fear clear as day.

“Will they go too? Like Mistlekit?” He asked, trembling.

She pulled the two closer, “no, no.. Starclan will not take another kit so soon,” she promised, glancing into Yellowfang’s eyes worriedly.

“We will take good care of your sisters,” Yellowfang promised, bending down to grab Tawnykit. Both of them knew that the promises were empty but said nothing. They had no control over the stars.

“What is going on here?”

A rustle at the den entrance made Yellowfang pause.

Bluestar pushed her way into the den, pale blue eyes more focused than Fireheart had seen them in days.

Yellowfang spoke first, “two of Fireheart’s kits are ill. I am taking them to my den to treat them.”

“No, you are not,” she hissed. “You have enough cats to treat. We cannot waste precious herbs on cats that can do nothing to earn them.”

Fireheart froze, shock and anger eating away at her. Her tail tightened around her kits, blazing eyes locked on her leader but it was not her who spoke first.

“Waste them!?” A shrill voice cried from the other side of the nursery.

They all turned to face Speckletail who was glaring at their leader, hate brewing in her eyes.

“Was Mistlekit a waste then? Not worth it?!” She screeched, fur fluffed, and tail swished in agitation.

Bluestar instantly turned to sooth, “Mistlekit’s death was a tragedy, but we cannot afford to use herbs on cats who cannot earn them.”

“Since when have kits had to earn anything?!” Speckletail hissed, dragging Snowkit closer to her.

“Even kits need to prove their loyalty to their clan-”

Fireheart cut her off with a furious hiss, “oh, so its just because their Tigerstar’s kits! Is that what this is?!”

Bluestar stared at her, a deranged look in her eyes.

“Tigerstar’s blood has tainted these kits. Maybe this is Starclan’s way of clearing them.”

“Starclan!? The same Starclan you no longer believe in?! I can’t believe you,” she hissed, anger clouding her vison as she unsheathed her claws, digging them into the soft nursery floor.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Yellowfang cut through, her presence a calm in the storm. “I am taking these kits to the medicine cat den for treatment, that is final.”

Bluestar whirled to face her, “no, you are not. A leader’s word is law. Tell me, are you a rouge after all? To disobey me even after all I’ve done for you?”

“A leader’s word is law,” Yellowfang acknowledged, not breaking eye contact with Bluestar, “but Starclan’s word is exceeding. Cinderpaw, take the kits to the den.”

Fireheart blinked, not having noticed the young shecat’s reentry.

“Cinderpaw, stop.” Bluestar padded over to Yellowfang, deadly and dangerous.

“Starclan means nothing here.”

The temperature in the den dropped even lower.

The cats were silent as the stand off between their leading members continued.

“If you continue to disobey me, I will make sure you follow in the path of every other traitor before you. You can crawl back to Shadowclan for all I care! Since it’s clear they no longer care who joins them. These kit’s are to stay here. Anyone who wants to challenge me can leave.”

Bluestar stared into Yellowfang’s furious eyes, “Cinderpaw can even go with you, one more useless cat gone.”

Flashback end.

Bluestar had refused to let the kits be treated going as far to stop Yellowfang and Cinderpaw from delivering herbs whenever she spotted them.

She enlisted the help of other cats to make sure her word was followed even when she wasn’t there.

Darkstripe was unsurprisingly one of the first to volunteer. The dark tabby tom having it out for her ever since she betrayed Tigerstar.

Whitestorm was horrified by his leader’s actions but his position as deputy forced him to obey. He helped when he could, sending the two on patrol whenever he could to allow Yellowfang and Cinderpaw brief moments to treat the kits.

“Fireheart?” Fireheart shook her head, zoning back into the conversation.

“Sorry Brindleface, what were you saying?”

The queen’s warm eyes meeting her own, “I was just asking if you wanted anything to eat? I was going to grab something for myself after all.”

Fireheart hadn’t had much appetite but she knew her kits needed her to be healthy. She nodded, meowing her thanks as Brindleface padded away.

A sneeze made her look down, Tawnykit’s blearily eyes staring up at her. Her face softened, “go back to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.” Fireheart tucked her kits into the nest, pausing briefly to go check on Squirrelkit and Bramblekit before Speckletail shooed her away.

Somehow, as she curled up in her nest, she knew her struggles had only just begun.

Chapter Text

“Fireheart? You here?”

Fireheart lifted her head from where it had been resting on her paws, looking toward the den entrance.

Since Bluestar had refused to let the kits be treated, Yellowfang had sanctioned them off into a makeshift den beside the elders to try and prevent it from spreading.

She had also fought to allow Squirrelkit and Bramblekit to remain with Speckletail despite their “tainted blood”. She tucked the dozing kits closer to her belly before speaking.

“I’m here.”

Brackenfur poked his head through, a thrush dangling from his jaws.

“Whitestorm sent Bluestar and Darkstripe on patrols. Yellowfang said to give this to you.”

“Thank you, Brackenfur,” Fireheart purred, taking the thrush from the young tom.

Brackenfur turned to leave before pausing.

Fireheart could see him hesitating, something was bothering him.

“Fireheart, I-” He cut himself off, looking down nervously at his paws.

Fireheart looked at him, waiting patiently for him to respond.

“I was wondering if you could talk to Whitestorm for me…” he trailed off, shuffling his paws.

“Talk to Whitestorm? I mean, of course I will but may I ask why?” Fireheart meowed, that was not what she was expecting from the tabby.

“It’s just… you and Whitestorm know each other. He trusts you.”

“What did you want me to ask?” She responded, tilting her head considering.

“It’s about Snowkit.”

Fireheart’s eyes widened in realization. She had noticed the connection between the two toms. Slowly, she put the pieces together.

“You want to mentor him?” She asked, phrasing it more as a statement than a question.

Brackenfur nodded.

“I know that he’s deaf but he’s a good kit. I think with some time and patience, he will make a brilliant Thunderclan warrior,” he explained, trying to defend his answer.

Fireheart motioned for him to stop, and the tom closed his mouth, staring at her with worried eyes.

“Calm down,” she intoned, “I agree with you, and I will put in a good word with Whitestorm-”

“Thank you, Fireheart!”

She cut him off, “but that doesn’t guarantee anything. We all know that Bluestar gets the final say.”

Brackenfur’s fur fluffed up in anger, “but that’s not fair! It’s clear to see that she doesn’t believe in him! He deserves a fair a chance as any of us! Bluestar is blind if she can’t see that!”

Internally, Fireheart agreed but out loud she said, “watch it. She’s still your leader and deserves your respect.”

Brackenfur made to speak again but this time Fireheart interrupted him.

“I will talk to Whitestorm and Speckletail. Maybe we can make Bluestar see reason but for now, I just want you to keep an eye on Snowkit, okay? Starclan knows, the kit needs as many cats as possible to believe in him.”

Brackenfur nodded, “okay, Fireheart. I’ll do as you say but you will talk to Whitestorm, right? About me being his mentor, I mean.”

Fireheart nodded thoughtfully, “you are about ready to take on an apprentice and its clear that Snowkit likes and trusts you. I see no reason for Whitestorm not to pick you but I will talk to him regardless.”

Brackenfur lit up, anger forgotten as the young tom practically bouncing on his paws just like when Fireheart had taken him out training after Graystripe neglected his duties for Silverstream and Cinderpaw had become a medicine cat.

“Thank you, Fireheart! I’ll make sure to pass on everything you’ve taught me!”

Fireheart purred a laugh. “How much of my lessons do you even remember?” she teased.

Brackenfur blushed before purring a laugh himself.

“I’m gonna go tell Cinderpaw! I can tell Cinderpaw, right?” He asked, looking back at her.

Fireheart nodded, it’s not like Cinderpaw knowing would change anything, but it would be good for them.

“Thanks again, Fireheart!” Brackenfur meowed, pushing his way out of the den, tail held high.

Fireheart meowed a farewell before lowering her head tiredly. She took an absent-minded bite out of the thrush.

Despite her semi-promise to the tom, she wasn’t sure if she could change Bluestar’s mind, even with Whitestorm on her side.

The blue-furred leader’s mind had only grown frailer and for all the faith Fireheart had in her, something in her shield away from the cat who mentored her.

Bluestar was not who she once was, not the cat Fireheart knew and loved but Fireheart was named for her loyalty, and she was determined to stand by her leaders’ side as long as possible. Even if that would not be as long as she had expected.

Finishing the thrush, she laid her head back down. She would talk to Whitestorm when he got back from patrol.

Hopefully, the tom would have some ideas on how to convince Bluestar to apprentice Snowkit.

Whitestorm would know what to do.

Fireheart was resting in a pool of frail sunlight, Tawnykit and Leafkit curled at her side.

While they hadn’t gotten worse, they hadn’t gotten better either.

The moments where Yellowfang or Cinderpaw could treat them were brief and that coupled with the gradually dwindling supply of usable herbs set back the healing process.

Thankfully, Squirrelkit and Bramblekit had shown no signs of greencough, the two busy playing with Snowkit in front of her.

The camp was, for once, peaceful.

A comforting silence rang over the camp, only broken by the occasional cough from a sick cat or an excited squeal from one of the kits.

Fireheart sighed, letting the sun warm her pelt and turn the orange fur into fire.

This warm day brought hope, maybe the remaining moons of leafbare would be better.

The quiet was broken by the sound of running cats, paws thumping frantically against the earth. Runningwind’s patrol had returned, far sooner then expected. His gaze panned the camp and his voice, slightly shaky sounded loud across the clearing.

“Where is Bluestar or Whitestorm? We have important news.”

At the mention of her name, the leader who had been resting in her den stuck her head out. Upon sighting the frazzled patrol, she quickly leapt down High Rock and commanded their attention.

“Runningwind, what do you have to report?”

Runningwind dipped his head respectfully, “Bluestar, someone has been stealing Thunderclan prey. We were patrolling the Windclan boarder when-”

“Windclan! Those sniveling thieves! Those foxhearted cowards!” She spat, furiously. “I knew we couldn’t trust Tallstar’s declaration of peace. They probably spent the time we gave them to recover plotting our demise.”

She looked up, “what else did you discover?”

Runningwind cowed from her gaze, startled by the formally stoic leader’s outburst. “We-we scented dog. Down near the stream, right where we found the prey…”

“Dog? Windclan probably planted it, trying to throw us of their trail but we won’t be fooled. Darkstripe, fetch Whitestorm. He should be hunting near the Owl tree. Tell him it’s urgent. We must not give Windclan a chance to think they can recover and get away with this. We will attack at sundown!”

Fireheart watched on in horror as Bluestar stalked back to her den. The peace so quickly broken as cats immediately began to prepare. Some cats, Darkstripe, appeared eager for battle while others like Sandstorm and Longtail appeared skeptical. Still, Fireheart knew they would obey. After all, she thought bitterly, a leaders word is law.

Looks like she will have to wait to talk to Whitestorm about Snowkit, the clan had more pressing matters.

Whitestorm returned and Bluestar instantly had him put together a battle patrol.

Fireheart had made sure her kits were all safe and tucked into their nests before making her way to the white tom.

“Whitestorm? May I have a moment?” She asked, her tail flicking nervously behind her.

Whitestorm glanced at her and whatever he saw in her eyes made him nod.

He turned back to Dustpelt and Longtail, “Thornclaw and Cloudpaw can come. Get Brightpaw too. Swiftpaw is still recovering and Ashpaw and Fernpaw are too new to training so they won't be joining us. Find them and bring them to the meeting place, remind them to stick by their mentors. This is their first battle and they need to take it seriously.”

Orders delivered, Dustpelt and Longtail turned to leave, the two nodding politely at her as they did so. While the three would likely never be the best of friends, they had a shared bond in their connection to Tigerstar. She had their respect and they had hers and it was enough.

“What did you need from me, Fireheart?” Whitestorm asks, snapping her attention back to him.

“Its about the battle…”

He sighed, “you don’t think it was Windclan do you?”

“No! And neither do you! I know it! Runningwind and Dustpelt both confirmed the scent of dogs on the pray. We know this is just Bluestar itching for a reason to fight!”

Whitestorm stared at her, gaze unwavering and just like she had when she was an apprentice, she shut her mouth.

“I know what you think, and I can’t necessarily argue against your logic, but the warrior code states that-”

“I know, a leader’s word is law but right now the code is wrong! This is just unnecessary bloodshed! Leafbare has been hard enough without sending innocent cats off to die!” she hissed.

Whitestorm’s eyes narrowed.

“What would you have done then?” he asked, staring at her.

“What?” she stuttered, surprised.

“If your leader gave you an order that you disagreed with as deputy, what would you have done?”

“I don’t see how-”

This time it was Whitestorm who cut her off, “don’t play dumb, we both know that had you not had your kits, Bluestar would have made you deputy.”

Fireheart stood speechless, although she didn’t deny it. She wondered briefly if the real reason she hadn’t been made deputy had been due to the father of her kits rather then the fact she had kits at all.

“I-I don’t know,” she admitted, before lifting her head to gaze at him head on.

“But I know I wouldn’t have just stood still and let this happen! You know Bluestar is wrong! You know its insane! I can’t believe this! Your just gonna let it happen?! I-”

“Fireheart, go take a walk.”

“What?” Fireheart was dumbfounded, this was the second time she had been left reeling and the conversation had barely lasted five minutes.

“Take a walk, you can’t focus when you’re like this so go take a walk and clear your head.”

“But-”

“Now," Whitestorm commanded.

With that, the deputy padded away leaving Fireheart fuming.

How dare he treat her like a way-ward apprentice! He knew this was wrong, but he still followed her?!

Fireheart stalked off, pausing only to make sure Willowpelt and Brindleface could watch over her kits.

Once outside the camp, Fireheart let her paws take her where they wanted, her mind thinking back over the conversation. The anger in her grew until she was running full speed, thoughts left far behind her as she focused solely on not tripping or running into anything.

When she finally came to a stop, breathing heavily, she found herself on the Windclan border. She spotted a patrol in the distance.

Guess her paws knew just what to do.

Gathering her strength, she began to run again.

She couldn’t let innocent cats get hurt, mind flashing back to her kits at camp. What if it had been them? Energy flooded her limbs; she would make sure it wasn’t.

Quickly, she caught up to the patrol.

Their leader, Deadfoot swinging around to face her.

The toms face widened in surprise as he recognized her.

“Fireheart? What are you doing at the border?”

“No time to chat,” she panted, “the clan found stolen pray coated in the scent of dog near the border.”

“Yes,” he meowed, tilting his head in confusion. “Windclan has found the same thing, we were going to bring it up at the next gathering if it continued.”

Fireheart felt her heart surge, she knew it! Windclan wasn’t responsible!

The dark furred tom continued, “but I have a feeling you didn’t chase us all the way here just to ask about some dogs.”

“No, I didn’t,” she breathed. “Bluestar thinks it was Windclan who stole the prey, and she is currently preparing a patrol of warriors to attack at dawn," she meowed, ignoring the Windclan warriors intrupting growls.

Deadfoot’s ears rose in shock, not expecting the reel of information Fireheart had just revealed. His eyes narrowed, “and why are you telling us this?”

“I don’t want innocent cats getting hurt,” she admitted, green eyes meeting amber.

Seconds ticked by before Deadfoot nodded and dropped her gaze, turning to look at a smokey grey apprentice.

“Eaglepaw, go alert Tallstar. We will meet you back at camp.”

The apprentice nodded, pausing to smile at Fireheart before charging off.

“What will you tell her?” Deadfoot asked, as he motioned with his tail for the rest of the patrol to leave.

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” she admitted, blushing under her fur.

Deadfoot let out a purr of amusement, “I didn’t think so. Regardless, Windclan thanks you. With this information, hopefully we can prevent an unnecessary battle.”

Fireheart nodded, “that’s what I’m hoping for. I should get back to camp before they miss me.”

“Fireheart!” Deadfoot meowed, stopping her as she turned. “I heard you had kits?”

She turned to look at him purring, “yes! Four!”

“Congratulations, I'm sure they will make fine warriors.”

She nodded her thanks before racing back towards Thunderclan camp, heart heavy.

Hopefully, she would make it out of this alive.

She shivered internally as she imagined Bluestar's fury. Coupled with her growing insanity, she wasn't sure if she would make it out with her pelt fully attached! She knew she wouldn't it Yellowfang found out!

Still, she held firm to the fact that she had done the right thing.

Fireheart followed her heart.

Even if it lead her down the path of darkness, she knew it would bring her to where she needed to be.

Chapter Text

Fireheart snuck her way back into camp, internally sighing in relief when she discovered that the battle patrol had already left.

The camp was being guarded by Mousefur who Fireheart greeted calmly, acting as if she hadn’t just committed treason.

Back in camp, she spotted Yellowfang and Cinderpaw heading towards her temporary den. Knowing that her sick kits would be in good paws, she headed over to the nursery, wanting to check up on Squirrelkit and Bramblekit. She knew the two could be a pawful, even with all the queens helping.

She nodded politely at Ashpaw and Fernpaw, the two apprentices taking care of the elders since they were too young and inexperienced to take part in the battle.

However, she was stopped in her journey halfway by a ball of fluffy white fur.

With a startled screech, she was tackled to her side, her vision blocked by masses of fur.

“Opps! Sorry, Fireheart! You okay?” a cat meowed.

Fireheart recognized the voice as belonging to Cloudpaw, her nephew and former apprentice. Since she had moved to the medicine cat’s den, Sandstorm had taken over the young tom’s training. Her friend was a fine mentor for Cloudpaw.

She scrambled to her paws, looking up to see the bundle of fur bouncing nervously on his paws.

“Fireheart?” He repeated, “are you okay?”

It was then she realized that she had never actually responded to his question, and he probably thought he hurt her accidently.

“No, sorry Cloudpaw. I’m fine. What were you doing charging all over the place?” She questioned, smoothing down her prickly fur. “I thought you were going on the battle patrol.”

Cloudpaw had the decency to look ashamed as Brightpaw raced over to join them.

“Bluestar didn’t want me on the patrol,” he mumbled, Brightpaw padding to a stop beside him.

Fireheart’s eyes widened in shock as she looked to Brightpaw for confirmation.

Brightpaw nodded, “I didn’t want to go without him, so I stayed too.”

“Why didn’t Bluestar want you on the patrol?” She asked, uneasiness growing in her stomach.

The young tom shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Fireheart frowned, “well, why don’t you two go hunting then? We could use a full freshkill pile for when the patrol returns, especially since you too seem to have so much energy,” she meowed, hoping the task would distract the two.

Brightpaw nodded, already heading to the exit.

“Okay, thanks Fireheart,” Cloudpaw meowed, brushing against her gently before racing after Brightpaw.

Fireheart purred, ignoring her worry. He was a good kit and would make a fine warrior.

Speaking of warriors, she frowned. Those two along with Swiftpaw were due to be made warriors soon, surely. Brackenfur had already been made a warrior for moons and Thornclaw earned his name not that long ago either. Even Cinderpaw was nearing the end of her medicine cat training. She was hesitant to approach Bluestar about the matter, especially considering what she had just done but maybe she could talk to Whitestorm? She needed to speak to him about Snowkit anyway.

Blinking, she realized she had reached the nursery, her paws having carried her where she needed ago.

Internally, she scolded herself for losing focus. A warrior must always be alert.

She ducked through the entrance, feeling the spiny leaves catch on her thick fur.

Shaking herself, she blinked, letting her eyes adjust to the dim lighting.

She spotted Goldenflower first, the queen dozing in her nest. Willowpelt looked on the verge of drifting off, the pregnant queen quietly grooming herself. Frostfur had gone hunting leaving her nest empty. Speckletail and Brindleface were chatting, the two pausing when Fireheart entered.

“Ah! Fireheart! I was wondering when you would be stopping in,” Brindleface greets, flicking her tail welcomingly.

Fireheart let out a soft, tired purr.

“Just stopping in to check on Squirrelkit and Bramblekit. Hope they haven’t been too much trouble,” she chuffed, laughing lightly at the disgruntled looks her kits shot her.

“We haven’t been trouble!” Squirrelkit squeaks, adamantly.

Bramblekit nods solemnly, “we’ve been good! We promise!”

Fireheart padded over, giving Bramblekit a quick lick on the head. “I’m sure you have been,” she meowed, glancing over at Speckletail questioningly.

The old queen sighs. “They’ve been a pawful, that’s for sure but then again, so are all kits,” she meows, disgruntled.

Brindleface and Fireheart laugh quietly at the look on the elderly queen’s face.

Speckletail merely glares at them, no real heat behind her gaze before chuffing and laying her head on her paws.

“I’m going to sleep. Since you too are so energetic, you can watch the kits.”

Brindleface and Fireheart exchange amused glances before the tabby queen stumbles to her paws.

“Maybe we should continue this outside,” the queen suggests, nudging the kits out into the open.

Fireheart nods, jumping slightly when something bites her tail. She swings around to find Snowkit playing a game of catch with her tail and chuckles, using her tail to guide the kit out into the sunlight.

Once out of the den, the kits run around excitedly, poking experimentally at the light snow speckled around the camp.

“Look Snowkit! It’s you!”

Fireheart and Brindleface take a seat in a ray of gentle sunlight, positioned so they can keep one eye on the kits at all time.

Fireheart knew she would have to leave to go check on Tawnykit and Leafkit but enjoyed the moment of solitude while she had it.

Her heart may be full of love for her kits, but her body was tired.

“How have you been Fireheart? I feel like its been awhile since we had a chance to chat,” Brindleface meows, grooming her side.

Fireheart sighs, “I’m alright, I guess. Tired.”

Brindleface nods, “kits are exhausting but their worth it.”

Fireheart nods before laying her head on her paws.

Maybe Speckletail had the right idea, she mused. She could do with a nap herself.

The peace was interrupted by the sound of cats pushing through the thorn barrier.

Brindleface’s head shot up, ears twitched.

“It’s too early for the battle patrol to have returned,” she whispered.

Speckletail and Frostfur padded out of the nursery, Ashpaw and Fernpaw pausing their game of mossball with the kits to watch as Bluestar led the patrol back into the camp.

Fireheart couldn’t believe she had nearly forgotten.

Her relief at preventing the battle and her comfort in talking to her kits had completely overshadowed the betrayal she had just committed.

Bluestar waved her tail, dismissing the patrol before leaping onto High Rock.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather here beneath the High Rock!”

Fireheart got to her paws and moved to usher her kits into the nursery.

“Mama, what’s going on?” Bramblekit meowed, as she nudged him forward with her nose.

“The clan’s having a meeting so you must go to the nursery.”

“But we weren’t done playing!” Squirrelkit complains, trudging along after her.

Snowkit said nothing, merely glancing with confusion between the High Rock and Fireheart.

“You can play tomorrow,” Fireheart promised.

“But I wanna play now!”

“Squirrelkit, not now. Please,” Fireheart pleaded, feeling Bluestar’s gaze boring into her skin.

Fear, however unwanted, crept across her chest wrapping tightly around her heart and squeezing.

Squirrelkit, finally sensing her mothers tension looked around worriedly, fur fluffed.

“Is-is everything okay?” she meowed, brushing against her mother. Her ginger fur only a few shades darker than her own.

“Everything’s fine,” Fireheart soothed, “I just need to talk to Bluestar for a bit.”

Looking skeptical, Squirrelkit let Fireheart nudge the three into the nursery.

Once Fireheart was sure they would stay put, she turned and made her way over to Brindleface who had saved her a spot, between her and Longtail.

As soon as she was seated, Bluestar started the meeting.

“The battle with Windclan was cancelled,” she called out.

Confused mutters filled the air although Fireheart could sense some cats were grateful. Not everyone had believed that Windclan had been responsible for the prey theft but even they couldn't understand why Bluestar would call off a battle she had been so determined to start.

Fireheart squirmed anxiously, stopping at the concerned look Brindleface gave her.

She wondered if Bluestar would mention her involvement with the battle’s prevention for even if Deadpool had kept quiet about his sources, it wouldn’t be difficult to deduce who had been able to warn Windclan in time.

She internally cursed herself for not thinking it through sooner.

'Oh well', she thought bitterly, 'nothing I can do now.'

“Why? What happened?” Someone, Whiteeye, called out, the elder raising her voice to be heard above the whispers.

Bluestar cleared her throat before answering.

“Windclan mentioned that they too have been noticing missing prey-”

“How do we know that wasn’t just a decoy!?” Smallear interrupts.

Bluestar stands taller, “we don’t. But they too have scented dog on their territory. Tallstar and I agreed that a battle so early into leafbare would be problematic for both our clans and have come to an understanding.”

The clan once again broke into uneasy whispers.

Fireheart could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Agreement? Problematic? That was foxdung! Bluestar had been all for attacking Windclan. This was just her trying to save face!

Fireheart bit down her anger, swishing her tail to wrap around her paws as she glared steadily at her leader.

The voices continued to rise and something flashed through Bluestar’s eyes.

“ENOUGH! There will be no battle with Windclan today! Everyone is to return to their normal duties. Whitestorm will issue any remaining patrols. Meeting dismissed!”

With that, the clan broke apart into groups to discuss what had transpired.

Fireheart padded over to her temporary den, hoping to make a clean exit.

“Fireheart.”

Wincing, she turned to find Bluestar standing across from her. Her leader’s blue eyes were cold as ice.

“Bluestar,” she murmured, dipping her head respectfully.

Bluestar’s eyes only narrowed, “meet me in my den. We need to have… a little talk.”

Chapter Text

In the leaders den, the air was so tense, Fireheart felt like she could slice it with her claws.

Bluestar had yet to say a word, she merely stared at her, eyes cold and contemplating.

Whitestorm sat next to the den entrance, Fireheart couldn't read his expression.

She fought the urge to shift, holding herself rigid and still.

After what felt like moons, Bluestar finally spoke.

"I think we all know why we are here," she began, voice steady and calm.

Fireheart wasn't fooled, she could sense the anger brewing under her words, hidden like a snake ready to strike as soon as she let her guard down.

Fireheart cleared her throat, "and what might that be for?"

Bluestar's eyes narrowed, "don't play me for a fool, Fireheart. I know what you did."

Fireheart shivered involuntarily, looking away from her leaders unfailing gaze. Tense, she waited for her leaders rage to be unleashed.

"And I commend you for it."

Fireheart looked up in shock. Even Whitestorm gazed at his leader, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Bluestar purred lightly at their shocked expressions.

"A good leader can admit to when they were wrong and I must do the same. A battle, especially with a seemingly harsh leafbare ahead of us would have been foolish. It was unwise of me to attempt to provoke a fight with Windclan and I would like to apologize to you two."

"What" Fireheart meowed, stumbling to all fours.

She glanced wildly between Bluestar and Whitestorm, the white tom mirroring her own surprise.

"Why-why apologize to us?" he meowed, moving forward to be side by side with Fireheart.

Bluestar blinked warmly at them.

"Windclan and I have already come to an agreement," she meowed, "so we shall have no more issues with them but I placed an unnecessary burden on both your shoulders. I caused you to worry and prepare for a battle that didn't need to be fought. I hope you can both accept my apology."

"I-of course," Whitestorm stuttered.

Fireheart echoing him, still dazed from the sudden mood swing.

Bluestar nudged her nephew's cheek affectionately.

"Fireheart."

"Yes?" she responded, nervously.

"I'd also like to thank you."

"Thank me?!"

Bluestar nodded, "your warning helped prevent this battle and made me see reason. The clan can sleep safely thanks to you."

Fireheart couldn't speak, how had things changed to quickly?

Taking her silence as acceptance, Bluestar turned back to Whitestorm.

"Whitestorm, I'd like to have a word alone with Fireheart for now, if you'd see to the clan?"

Whitestorm nodded, Fireheart could see the hope in his eyes.

Maybe Bluestar was recovering? If she was starting to care about the clan again?

Still, Fireheart hated to see him go.

He had been a buffer between her and Bluestar for a while and now Fireheart was forced to face her former mentor alone.

Despite the apology, Fireheart was nervous. Was it just an act? She wondered, watching the deputy leave.

Once the two were alone, Bluestar turned her attention fully to Fireheart.

"What did-what did you want to talk to me about? Aside from apologizing, I mean," Fireheart meowed, stumbling over her words.

Bluestar didn't answer her question, instead motioning for Fireheart to come closer.

"Remember when you first joined the clan?" she asked, turning her head to meet Fireheart's eyes.

Fireheart nodded, thinking back to the moment when she first joined.

Longtail and her had fought and her victory had secured her place in Thunderclan.

"There was another reason I allowed you to stay."

Fireheart started, another reason? What other possible reason could there be for Bluestar to let in an outsider? A kittypet no less?

Bluestar continued, answering her unspoken question.

"Shortly before you joined, Spottedleaf received a prophecy."

Fireheart's heart ached for the loss of her friend, the two had been close before her death.

Shaking her head, she focused back on her leader.

"Prophecy?" she echoed, "from Starclan?"

Bluestar nodded, "they said that 'Fire will save the clans'. At the time, I didn't understand. Fire is viewed as dangerous by all the clans, how could it possibly save us and what did we need saving from? A moon or so later, I found the fire. You wouldn't have known this, in fact, only Redtail and Spottedleaf knew but I knew of you long before Lionheart and Whitestorm introduced us."

Fireheart sat still, shocked. This was all new information to her. Had her joining truly been foreseen?

She remained silent, letting her leader continue.

"From the moment I first saw you, I knew we had found our fire. I sent Graypaw on a solo hunting mission hoping he would run into you and it worked. Before long, I was able to give you your apprentice name, Firepaw."

Fireheart swallowed, "why are you telling me this?"

Bluestar continued, "prophecy are Starclan's way of guiding the living and while their meaning is usually never clear until after they have come to pass, I understood to an extent that your destiny needed you in Thunderclan. When I was a young warrior, I too was given a prophecy. Mine has come to pass and I have both gained and lost much in the process. What I'm trying to do is warn you. Prophecies cannot be stopped nor prevented but if we move carefully, we can prevent the worst from happening."

Fireheart said nothing but her mind raced a mile a minute. She was part of some prophecy? She had to save the clans?

"What do I do?" she asked, panic creeping through her veins.

Bluestar wrapped her tail around her.

"Do what you would do normally," she soothed, "the prophecy will come to pass regardless."

Fireheart lent into her mentors side as Bluestar lapped gently at her fur like a mother would her kits.

A warmth spread through Fireheart as she and her mentor shared tongues.

She had missed this kind, collected Bluestar.

A quiet moment passed between the two before Bluestar pulled away, "that being said. While I am greatful for the fact that you prevented the battle, you must still be punished. A leaders word is law after all and it would do the clan no good if they were to see you go unpunished."

Fireheart nodded, it was fair, she supposed.

She had still betrayed her clan even if it was for the right reasons.

"What do you suggest?" Bluestar straightened, authority shrouding her.

"Leafbare is growing stronger and prey is fewer. For your actions against the clan, you shall eat last and only once every cat, from warrior to kit, has had their fill."

Fireheart blinked, that was not what she had been expected.

If she was being honest, Fireheart had expected exile and internally she was grateful that she had been spared that fate. She did worry about her milk as she needed to be well-fed in order to feed her kits but she knew that when she couldn't, the other queens would aid her as they all do for each other.

Fireheart nodded, "yes, Bluestar," she murmured. Part of her felt the punishment cruel but the larger part of her was still singing in relief for Bluestar's seemingly recovery that it was pushed aside.

Bluestar nudged her gently, "now off you go and send Whitestorm in when your done."

Feeling somewhat like a chastised apprentice, Fireheart turned to leave before pausing.

"Bluestar?"

"Yes?"

"There is just one thing I would like to ask," she meowed, shuffling her paws.

Bluestar paused and stared at her.

"Go ahead."

"It's about the apprentices and Snowkit."

Bluestar blinked, surprise coating her expression.

Fireheart rushed to continue, "Swiftpaw, Brightpaw, Cloudpaw and Thornpaw are all ready to be made warriors and Brackenfur has already asked to mentor Snowkit. They have worked out forms of communication and we both agree that with patience, Snowkit will make a fine warrior."

After her statement, Fireheart waited, anxious to her Bluestar's response.

Bluestar nodded thoughtfully.

"They are ready to be made warriors," she mused.

"Very well," she meowed, "we shall hold their warrior ceremonies in three days."

"And Snowkit?" Fireheart pressed.

Something flashed across Bluestar's face.

"A deaf kit could never be a true warrior," she meowed, cold and unyielding.

"But-"

A glance at Bluestar's expression cut her off, she had already pushed the boundaries as far as she could today.

Snowkit would have to be a future battle.

She dipped her head respectfully, "yes Bluestar."

With that, she turned and left.

She supposed it could have gone worse. She hadn't been exiled, she had stopped the battle and the apprentices would be getting their well-earned warrior ceremonies.

It truly seemed like Bluestar was getting better!

Fireheart hoped that if things continued like this, maybe she could eventually get Snowkit apprenticed.

Her paws felt lighter then they had in the moons since Tigerstar's exile and her heart felt full.

Maybe this was her fire working?

Deep down inside of her in a part where she tried to squash it down, she worried.

Something had still seemed off about Bluestar and what seemed like a step forward could very well be two steps back.

The food punishment in leafbare? The refusal to apprentice Snowkit? Her treatment of Tawnykit and Leafkit?

Fireheart shook her head, she would live and leafbare would eventually end and come newleaf, Fireheart was sure things would only continue to improve.

They had too... right?

Chapter Text

It had been three days since that fateful meeting and Fireheart could sense Bluestar watching her whenever the leader wasn’t busy.

Fireheart still held hope that her leader would get better and at times, it truly did seem like she would!

She was no longer moping in her den all the time and today was the long-awaited day that three apprentices became warriors.

Cloudpaw had been chatting about it non-stop to the point where Sandstorm, the pale ginger shecat had taken over Cloudpaw’s training when Fireheart moved to the nursery, had sent him out hunting until the ceremony.

Speaking of hunting, Fireheart’s eyes moved to the freshkill pile.

Bluestar had held firm on her punishment and Fireheart ate last.

She contemplated getting up to grab something to eat from yesterdays catch. She could spot two mice on the pile still.

Just before she got a chance to stand, Darkstripe had padded over to the pile.

The tom picked up the remaining mice before smirking at her and stalking away.

Anger rushed through her followed by a quiet resonation.

The cold made it to difficult to be angry for long although the annoyance remained.

The leafbare was getting harsher and she hoped it wouldn’t continue for much longer, she knew her milk was starting to suffer for it if her kits protests said anything.

Her kits had grown quiet a bit although they were still small enough that a strong breeze could whisk them away.

Every day, she could see more and more of Tigerstar in them and while it eased the pain in her heart to know that part of him was still with her, she knew the rest of the clan didn’t feel the same.

As much as she tried to shelter her kits until they were older, she knew they were confused for why the clan treated them so harshly.

She had nearly clawed Dappletail’s ears off for the way the elder treated her kits when they asked for a story! The elderly shecat had hissed and growled, spitting venom at the kits until they fled to her.

She could see the confusion and hurt in their eyes.

Fireheart had soothed them as best as she could, feeling very out of her depth.

In the end, she told the kits that Dappletail was just grumpy because of the cold.

Her kits, her sweet, naïve kits believed her.

“Does she want some moss from our nest?” Tawnykit had asked, her daughter’s kind heart showing through.

A kind heart that the rest of the clan ignored or tried to destroy.

Her worried thoughts were cut abruptly at her leader’s call.

“May all cats old enough to catch their own pray, gather here beneath the highrock!”

During her musing, she had missed Cloudpaw’s entry to the camp, the white tom flanked by a nervous Brightpaw and ecstatic Swiftpaw.

She got up, her kits chasing each other round her paws as she moved to sit beside Goldenflower, the golden queen looking on proudly.

“Mama! What’s going on!?” Squirrelkit asked, leaping in front of her.

“Cloudpaw, Swiftpaw and Brightpaw are becoming warriors!” Bramblekit meows, rising on his back legs to try to see over Longtail’s shoulder.

Fireheart drew her kits in using her tail.

“Yes, and if you’re not still and quiet, I’ll send you back to the nursery.”

Although not fully recovered, Yellowfang had deemed Leafkit and Tawnykit stable enough to go back to the nursery.

The other sick cats were slowly but surely recovering as well.

“When do-”

“Hush,” Fireheart meowed, eyes gazing proudly at her nephew as Bluestar began the ceremony.

“These apprentices are long overdue for their warrior ceremony and have proven their dedication and loyalty to Thunderclan.”

Bluestar took a deep breath, as if pained, before continuing, “I, leader of Thunderclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn.

Brightpaw, Swiftpaw and Cloudpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” Swiftpaw meowed, confidence shining in his eyes.

Cloudpaw and Brightpaw echoed him.

“Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior names.

Brightpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Brightheart. Starclan honors your loyalty and dedication and we welcome you as a full warrior of Thunderclan.”

Bluestar rested her muzzle on the shecats head and Brightheart licked her shoulder before stepping back, pride and happiness radiating off of her.

Bluestar continued, “Swiftpaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Swiftclaw. Starclan honors your energy and passion and we welcome you as a full warrior of Thunderclan.”

Swiftclaw repeated the same motions at Brightheart before moving to sit at the shecat’s side.

Fireheart spotted Longtail’s proud gaze and smiled.

“Cloudpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Cloudtail. Starclan honors your determination and courage and we welcome you as a full warrior of Thunderclan.”

Once Cloudtail had taken his seat beside Brightheart and Swiftclaw, the clans erupted into cheering.

“Brightheart! Swiftclaw! Cloudtail! Brightheart! Swiftclaw! Cloudtail!”

Fireheart rose her own voice to join the crowds, Bramblekit, Tawnykit, Leafkit and Squirrelkit racing round her paws cheering themselves.

Fireheart felt complete.

Fireheart awoke the next day to the sounds of screams.

She scrambled out of her nest into the clearing, ignoring her kits curious cries.

“Stay,” she meowed, gruffly, nudging them back into the nest.

After assuring herself that they would stay put, she pushed through the den exit.

Pushing through the crowd of cats, she made her way into the center.

A gasp of horror escaped her.

There at her paws lay the mangled body of Swiftclaw. The young tom’s black and white body coated in wounds.

Even without checking, she could tell he was already dead. No cat could survive that.

Goldenflower, the one who had woken her, lay curled up around her son.

Her eyes squeezed shut as if keeping them closed would make it all go away.

Longtail was frozen, the striped tabby stuck staring in horror at his former apprentice, jaws stained red from where he presumably carried him into camp.

Runningwind and Mousefur bore the same marks beside him.

“What happened!?” Whitestorm demanded, pushing his way through the crowd.

“I-I found him like this when I went to go tell him his vigil was over,” Longtail stuttered.

Fireheart’s heart stopped, thoughts flashing to her nephew and Brightheart.

It seemed that Whitestorm had the same idea, “what about Cloudtail and Brightheart?”

“Yellowfang has them in her den,” Ashpaw spoke up, the young tom managing to tear his eyes away from the body. Brindleface moved to nudge the apprentices away. They were too young to be seeing stuff like this.

Fireheart moved away, rushing over to the medicine cat den.

Terrified, she went inside.

The scent of blood washed over her causing her nose to wrinkle.

Blinking to let her eyes adjust, she saw Yellowfang frantically working on Brightheart. Cloudtail laying still in a nest beside her.

Breathing heavily, Yellowfang looked up from her work. “If you have nothing useful to do, get out. I need space to save their lives.”

Fireheart backed away.

“Make sure no one else interrupts,” the shecat meowed, before turning away.

Fireheart practically fled the den, heart heavy.

How had things gone so wrong and so quickly?

The three had just become warriors!

She lifted her head to the yellowing sky and begged Starclan to heal them.

That night, the clan sat vigil for Swiftclaw.

Fireheart heard worried murmurs from the cats around her.

“They were so young…” Frostfur murmured.

“Yellowfang doesn’t know if Brightheart and Cloudtail will make it… we could end up sitting vigil tomorrow too.”

Fireheart forced herself awake, feeling like she owed it to the tom. If she had only convinced Bluestar earlier, maybe this would have never happened.

“Fireheart?” The soft voice shook her from her thoughts.

Shaking her head, she lifted her eyes to meet Whitestorm’s.

“I need to talk to you,” the tom meowed.

Fireheart got to her paws, shaking slightly. The days events had moved to quickly for her to truly comprehend anything.

Flashback Start

Yellowfang had finally emerged from her den, silencing the clans instant questions with a sharp flick of her tail.

“They are alive,” she meowed, Fireheart had felt her heart slump in relief, “for now.”

Her nervous gaze focused on the greying shecat.

“What happened?” Someone called out.

Bluestar padded over to Yellowfang’s side.

“Their bodies were discovered away from camp and coated in dog scent.”

“They must have tried to chase the dogs away from camp.”

“Why not warn anyone?”

“Maybe there wasn’t time?”

“Or they were dead before they could do much of anything.”

“That’s enough,” Bluestar yowled.

The gathered cats fell silent.

“The clan will sit vigil for Swiftclaw. Tomorrow, we shall send out patrols to investigate further.

Runningwing and Longtail, you two will be on guard duty. You are to alert the clan at the slightest hint on anything. I don’t care if it turns out to be a stupidly brave mouse, I want the clan to be alerted.”

Runningwind nodded.

Longtail said nothing but inclined his head slightly, still crouching beside Swiftclaw.

With that, cats started to dissipate. Those sitting vigil began taking their places around the body while others started to share out the dwindling remains of the prey pile. Not everyone would get to eat tonight.

Fireheart made her way over to Yellowfang, the shecat’s gaze was tired and tremors ran through her body.

“How are they?” Yellowfang lifted her head, tired eyes meeting her own.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, heaving a sigh.

“They are both stable, but the rest is up to Starclan.”

“And if they live,” she pressed, “will they still be able to be warriors?”

Fireheart knew how much it meant to the two.

Yellowfang stood, laying her tail on her shoulder.

“With patience, a cat can do anything.”

With that, she left to return to her den to grab herbs for the vigil, Cinderpaw already waiting.

Flashback End

Fireheart followed after Whitestorm, the tom choosing a silent alcove to sit.

“What is it?” she asked, exhaustion clear in her voice.

“Are you okay?” The tom asks, blue eyes staring at her intently.

Fireheart sags to the ground, “I don’t know,” she meowed honestly, flicking her ear.

Whitestorm blinked, “how are your kits?”

Fireheart’s eyes narrowed.

“They are doing fine,” she meowed, “Whitestorm, what’s this really about?”

Whitestorm sighed before seeming to come to a decision.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed but the clan doesn’t really like Tigerclaw,” he began.

Fireheart’s eyes narrowed further, “how could I not?”

Whitestorm continued, ignoring her, “and as a result, they aren’t too fond of anything like him.”

She unsheathed her claws, “my kits are nothing like their father!”

Whitestorm’s gaze hardened, “I never said they were, I’m just stating what I know.”

A growl built up in her throat.

“The clan doesn’t deal well with traitors, never has. Innocent cats are often hurt in the pursuit of revenge.”

Fireheart’s body stiffened.

Whitestorm’s eyes returned to meet her own.

They softened, “keep your kits close, they need their mother more than anything.”

As he spoke, his gaze panned over to land on Goldenflower, still curled up around her kits still body.

“Dark times are coming for all the clans and I fear this is just the first of its unnecessary bloodshed.”

Deep within the leader’s den, the fur on Bluestar’s shoulders rose, standing on edge. A sharp, jittering feeling raced through her body leaving her feeling chilled.

“When enough blood has been spilt, only then will the fire be free to burn.”

Far away, where the forest rolls into the moors, a black and white cat with a long tail stirred in his sleep.

“Wind must help the fire grow.”

Chapter Text

Clouds drifted across the moon as Tigerstar paced back and forth in the small clearing. Jagged, still healing wounds lay across his left shoulder, a tickle of blood sluggishly dripping out. “

Arh, where are they!?” He growled, slashing his tail and turning to face his deputy.

Blackfoot sat at the base of a tree, the fur on the back of his neck fluffed up and his ears pricked. His amber eyes pierced Tigerstar’s own.

“Boulder said they should be back before moonhigh. They should be here soon.”

Tigerstar’s eyes narrowed, “they’d better or-”

The rustle of a bush cut him off as the skinny grey tom loped into the clearing followed closely by a small black tom and a large black and white tom.

“Ah, Boulder. You finally arrived,” Tigerstar greeted, eyes narrowing in on the young tom.

Boulders ears folded back as he shuffled nervously, “y-yes, and I brought Scourge, Bloodclan’s leader, just as you asked.”

Tigerstar stared before dipping his head. “You are dismissed, then.”

Boulder nodded before running off to camp leaving the four cats alone in the deep forest, lit only by the few stars that could shine through the clouds.

“Well?” Scourge prompted, the toms large, reinforced claws leaving gouges in the dirt.

“Apologies, I am Tigerstar, leader of Shadowclan and this is Blackfoot, my deputy,” Tigerstar meowed, eyeing the small tom. He had heard stories of the tom’s fierce leadership and Tigerstar knew better than anyone that looks could be deceiving.

Scourge nodded, “as Boulder stated earlier, my name is Scourge. I am Bloodclan’s leader. This is Bone, my second in command. Boulder mentioned that you had an offer for us?” Scourge tilted his head, showing off the studded dog tooth collar.

Tigerstar smirked, “that we do.”

Tension in the camp had grown and whatever brief respite they had had was clearly over.

Swiftclaw’s death and the subsequent injuries to Brightheart and Cloudtail left morals low, and the frigid air revealed a leafbare resistant to leaving.

Tempers were short and Whitestorm was working overtime trying to keep the clan in line.

Bluestar had retreated back into her den and hadn’t been seen all day. The clan was starting to get worried and it was all Fireheart could do to not charge in there and demand answers.

Whitestorm had also been avoiding her ever since their talk leaving Fireheart tired and alone.

She lay in the nursery, her kits asleep by her side.

It was too cold for them to go outside and play and the nursery was too small for any proper games leaving them frustrated and annoyed.

She had just gotten them to sleep and was considering a nap herself when someone pushed through the nursery entrance.

Fireheart looked up and was surprised to Sandstorm at the entrance. A shriveled dove in her mouth.

“Here,” she meowed, dropping it at her paws.

Fireheart tilted her head in surprise, green eyes meeting Sandstorms own.

“What’s this for?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

Sandstorm refused to meet her gaze, “I know Bluestar still has you eating last, so I thought I’d bring you something after everyone had eaten before someone else snatched it up.”

Fireheart blinked, only just noticing the growing ache in her stomach. Warmth flooded through her at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” she murmured. Sandstorm nodded before turning to leave.

Desperate, Fireheart called out, “wait!”

Sandstorm looked back; ears pricked and eyes cold but curious.

“Share with me?” she asked, not wanting to be left to eat alone again. None of the other warriors wanted to eat with Tigerstar’s former mate and the other queens were either asleep or outside. The nursery had been cold and empty after Mistlekit's death and Bluestar's enraged acts.

Sandstorm hesitated.

“Please?...”

With a sigh, she nodded, before turning around and sitting at her side.

The two ate in silence, a mutual feeling of acceptance spread over them.

When only scraps remained, Fireheart moved to speak.

“Why did you come to see me?”

Sandstorm licked her jaw, “to bring you prey? I already said that.”

Fireheart’s eyes narrowed, “there was more too it, wasn’t there?” She pressed.

Sandstorms ears flicked back, and she growled lowly, “so what?!”

Fireheart flinched, a quiet cry reaching her ears as her movement disrupted the slumbering kits.

She looked down and met Leafkit’s blearing eyes.

“Wha’s gon on?”

Her eyes softened, “nothing, sweetie, go back to sleep.”

She nudged her back into the warmth of her belly, holding her breath until the kit’s movements ceased and a peaceful silence fell back over the den.

“I’m sorry…”

If the den hadn’t been so quiet, Fireheart wouldn’t have heard. As it was, she had to look at Sandstorm to see if it had been real or if she had just imagined it.

“Sorry? About what?”

‘What could Sandstorm possibly have to apologize for?’ Fireheart wondered.

“Cloudtail... Maybe… Maybe if I had trained him better or made sure the area was cleared of anything before he sat vigil he’d be okay!”

Tears stained the shecat’s pale fur dark and pain emanated from her hunched over form.

A pang sounded in Fireheart’s chest.

The white tom’s condition was still uncertain.

Brightheart had woken up and although she was heavily scarred, missing an ear and an eye, Yellowfang determined that she would live.

Cloudtail had yet to wake, and Fireheart spent some time every day in the medicine cats den sitting beside the still tom.

Cloudtail’s still form was always a shock as the young tom was never still.

Sandstorm was also a frequent visitor, Cloudtail being her first apprentice.

The attack had haunted her, Brightheart's chilling comments of "pack, pack, kill, kill" sounded loud in Fireheart's own nightmares.

Fireheart sat up slightly, pausing to make sure her kits didn’t wake before moving to the shecat’s side.

“It’s not your fault,” she meowed, well aware that her words were empty but what else could she say?

Until Cloudtail awoke, guilt would haunt both shecats.

“It’s not your fault.”

Sandstorm let out a hushed wail before turning into Fireheart.

Fireheart merely watched with sad eyes.

Somehow, she knew the clan would lose many more cats before this dark season broke.

Chapter Text

It was silent… until it wasn’t.

The camp was awoken just before the sun could breach the sky by deafening howls and a harsh, acrid scent.

Fireheart woke with a start and could only watch in horror as beast after beast crashed through the camps walls and tore the clearing to shreds.

Within seconds, the chaos had spread like wildfire.

Whitestorm led the charge out of the warrior’s den, leaping onto one of the dogs backs only to be thrown off.

He collapsed, still and unmoving.

Fireheart went to go help but lost sight of him as the camp descended into madness.

Dustpelt and Sandstorm had rushed to guard the nursery. Fireheart could see them fighting through the brambles, anger in their eyes and claws at the ready.

Her fur stood on end and her claws dug into the mossy covered ground as she saw her clanmates get torn to shreds.

She moved to help only to be halted by someone grabbing her tail.

She whipped around to face Brindleface, eyes wide and terrified.

“Come on,” she murmured, eyes wide with fear.

"But they-"

"They can protect themselves. Your kits need you!"

Fireheart swallowed, cowering as a pained shriek filled the air.

She quickly followed the tabby queen to the others deeper in the den.

A yowl from outside reached her ears.

“Thunderclan! Retreat! Go to Sunningrocks!”

Whitestorm, he was alive!

She didn't have time for relief as Sandstorm rushed in, blood dripping from her shoulder and left ear but her eyes determined.

“Grab the kits, hurry!” She yowled, scoring a hole through the back of the den.

Fireheart grabbed Tawnykit, the closest, watching carefully to make sure her other kits were safe.

Speckletail had Snowkit, the tom almost to big to carry.

Brindleface had Squirrelkit and Frostfur had Leafkit.

Sandstorm grabbed Bramblekit as Goldenflower led the charge out.

She made eye content with Dustpelt and Thornclaw, the golden tom having taken Sandstorm's place guarding their escape. He nodded, the two were an unmoving wall, they would hold them off for as long as they could.

Grateful, she moved to follow her fellow queens.

Her heart beat furiously as she panted around the ball of fur in her mouth.

Within a couple seconds, they had cleared the camp wall and were in the forest.

Fireheart felt a flicker of hope that they would make it unscathed only to have it shatter as the strong scent of dog filled her nostrils.

“RUN!” Goldenflower shrieked, as one of the dogs from before raced over.

Fireheart didn’t pause, charging ahead with the other queens.

Leaping over logs, ducking under ferns, pushing her body to the limit and beyond.

The moons in the nursery had weakened her body but her mind remembered how. All her training had led to this.

Fireheart ran.

The dog followed.

“Up ahead!” Goldenflower called back, leading the way as she was not carrying a kit.

Fireheart’s heart was pounding but she could see Sunning Rocks ahead.

“What about the dog!?” Brindleface called out around the kit squirming in her mouth.

Sandstorm raced ahead and passed Bramblekit to Goldenflower.

“Go, I’ve got this.”

There was no time to complain, Fireheart could hear the dog catching up.

Fireheart stared nervously at the shecat as she raced past.

‘Please Starclan,’ she begged, ‘let us get out of this alive!’

With a last desperate heave, the queens arrived at Sunningrocks.

Goldenflower and Frostfur had already started to climb and with an aching body, Fireheart followed. As they climbed, with only the stars to light their way, Fireheart prayed.

Gradually, as the sun rose over the horizon, more and more cats started to arrive.

Bluestar amongst them, Whitestorm, bleeding heavily but still alert, at her side.

Fireheart had breathed a sigh of relief when Yellowfang arrived, Dustpelt and Willowpelt helping to carry Brightheart and Cloudtail, Sandstorm leaning heavily on Cinderpaw.

Injured, yes, but alive.

When the sun was midday, Bluestar called the meeting.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather here!”

Fireheart drew her four kits close to her belly as she watched from a shaded alcove waiting as the few cats who weren't already seated padded over.

Once everyone had gathered, Bluestar spoke again.

“Are we missing anyone?”

“Runningwind isn’t here yet,” Mousefur meowed, worriedly.

“Neither is Halftail or Patchpelt,” Oneeye called out.

Dappletail shakily got to her paws, “I, Runningwind is dead. I was too late to stop it…”

She sat back down, looking at her paws.

Fireheart winced as Mousefur wailed, Oneeye turning away to hide the pain in her eyes. Her heart ached, Runningwind was a kind tom and a brilliant warrior.

'The clan would be colder without him' she thought.

Bluestar let them be for a moment before continuing.

“Runningwind will be missed greatly. We will send search parties for Halftail and Patchpelt after the meeting. Is there anything else to report?”

At this, Thornclaw nervously got to his paws.

“Yes, Thornclaw?”

“Right when the dogs came in, I could smell Shadowclan… I couldn’t pinpoint a smell though.”

“I could,” Longtail growled, “Tigerstar’s scent was everywhere. I didn’t put it together at the time, but I believe these dogs are what killed Swiftclaw-” He choked a bit before continuing, “and attacked Cloudtail and Brightheart.”

Fireheart’s heart stopped, a jolt of yearning rushing through her at the name before the meaning of his words set in, she felt her already breaking heart crack further.

Her mate, ex-mate, had almost had them killed. Had killed Swiftclaw and gravely injured her nephew and Brightheart.

She blinked as all heads turned to face her, pain and nervousness etched onto her face.

“You did this…”

“What?” Fireheart meowed, getting to her paws to face her leader.

“You brought Tigerstar here! This is your fault!”

“Bluestar, no that’s-” Fireheart meowed, rushing to defend herself only to be cut of by her leaders yowl.

His blood still haunts this clan!”

Bluestar turned her cold eyes to the four kits who sat huddled at the base of the stones.

“As long as these kits live, the clan will never be free of his legacy,” she murmured, a deranged look in her eyes.

“Bluestar, I-” Whitestorm stepped in only to be cut off.

“No! Enough! Fireheart,” Bluestar meowed, voice sickeningly sweet as she blinked softly.

“These kits need to be punished on his behalf and as do you for birthing them. Fireheart,”

Fireheart couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Was Bluestar really trying to blame the dog attack on her kits?

They were hardly three moons old!

“Fireheart,” Bluestar continued. “As your punishment, you must rid the clan of Tigerstar’s blood.”

As her words registered in her brain, understanding and terror flooded her body.

She turned her head to look at her kits and could see the fear and confusion in their eyes.

Fireheart glanced around desperately, looking for anyone to say something, do something.

To stop this madness.

“Good riddance,” Darkstripe muttered darkly.

No one said anything to quiet him.

Even Brindleface stood quietly beside the other queens.

Goldenflower glaring at the kits whose father had taken her son.

The finality of the words sunk in, Bluestar wanted her to kill her kits.

A fierce protective wave rushed over her.

“No. No! My kits are innocent! They are not their father nor are they responsible for what happened!” Fireheart meowed, standing firm over her kits.

Bluestar’s eyes narrowed even further, and a growl started in the back of her throat.

“Last chance.”

Bluestar’s eyes met Firehearts own.

“Do not disappoint me, former apprentice.”

Fireheart felt sick, termers shaking her body to the core but she held strong.

She took a deep breath and gathered her kits with her tail, protecting them from the burning eyes of their clanmates.

“No,” she meowed firmly, unwavering green eyes meeting her former mentors (mother’s) own.

“No, I will not kill my kits.”

A pause,

“Then get out.”

Fireheart blinked, taking a step back.

“What?”

“Get out! Get OUT! GET OUT!” Bluestar yowled, ears flat against her head and eyes narrowed slits.

Her claws dug into the earth as her whole body shook as from barely restrained anger.

“Take these vermin and leave! Never come back!"

"Bluestar! I-"

"From this moment on, Fireheart and her kits are exiled from Thunderclan! If they are seen on our territory after dusk, you have my permission to kill them.”

Bluestar shook her head, icy blue eyes boring into her. “You disappoint me,” she hissed, before turning away. “Darkstripe, Longtail, make sure they leave.”

Fireheart watched her mentor walk away until a nudge broke her stare.

“Come on,” Longtail muttered, “let’s go.”

Darkstripe smirked, shoving past her, “better hope I don’t see you after dusk,” he meowed lowly, a challenge in his voice.

Fireheart glanced at her clan desperately.

No one would meet her gaze, and no one stopped them as they were led out of camp.

"Please," Fireheart meowed desperately, as she was led past her clanmates.

Brindleface refused to meet her eyes, Goldenflower glared at her fiercely, anger morphing her beautiful face into something ugly and hurting.

Whitestorm watched her, unmoving. Fireheart could almost feel his disapproval.

Her heart sunk.

Fireheart met Cinderpaw's gaze and the she cat stood, determination flooding her eyes before Fireheart softly shook her head.

Pain filled the young gray cats eyes but she sat back down.

The clan needed all the medicine cats they could get.

The strength that had flooded her earlier was gone leaving her tired and broken but Cinderpaw's support gave her that last bit of determination to keep putting one paw in front of the other.

“Mama? What’s going on?” Bramblekit meowed, huddled under her belly.

Her heart ached but she couldn't give up.

She had to be strong.

Her kits needed her now more than ever and Fireheart was never going to let them be harmed. For as long as she drew breath, she would protect them.

Chapter Text

Fireheart glanced nervously from side to side, the kit in her jaws squirming at the swinging motion.

Three more kits raced around and under her paws, their tails low and fear scent in the air.

They had to hurry; the sun was setting.

“Mama? My paws hurt!” Squirrelkit meowed, dragging her bushy tail behind her, ears drooping in exhaustion.

Fireheart’s eyes softened and she put Leafkit down for second to comfort her second.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. We just have to keep going.”

“Why couldn’t we stay at camp?” Bramblekit meowed, her firstborn’s bright amber eyes reminding her so much of Tigerclaw.

“Because the dogs are still there so we need to move away,” she meowed, trying to distract her kits from the real reason, their exile, for something that was never their fault.

Anger burned through her veins like fire, anger at Bluestar for going mad and exiling them, anger at Tigerclaw for getting exiled in the first place and then setting the dogs loose on the forest and anger at herself for failing to protect her kits.

She sighed, pushing the anger aside. Her kits needed her.

She could scent rain on the horizon, and she quickened her steps. They couldn’t survive a night in the rain like this.

“Mama, it’s cold,” Tawnykit meowed, ducking under her belly to shelter herself from the cold winds, sneezing as her belly fur tickled her nose.

“I know, that’s why we need to keep moving.”

Fireheart stood back up, grabbing Leafkit who barely responded.

Worry crawled at her heart, digging its cruel claws in like thorns.

Although mostly recovered, greencough had left the two kits frail and weak, Leafkit especially.

The stress from the dog attack and the run to Sunningrocks had exhausted them all.

Not to mention Bramblekit and Squirrelkit the day before the dog attack.

Flashback

Fireheart was tired, the lack of food and the ever-present chill taking its toll on her body. Leafkit and Tawnykit were napping at her side whilst Bramblekit and Squirrelkit had her permission to go badger the elders for stories.

She was jolted out of her doze-like state by furious yelling from across the camp.

Quickly, she sat up and rushed outside, leaving the two kits in the nest.

In the clearing, cats were gathered in a circle. Fireheart shouldered her way past Goldenflower and Whitestorm and gasped in horror.

Dappletail was glaring down at Squirrelkit and Bramblekit, the two kits cowering at her paws. Smallear was just behind her, a scowl etched onto the small tom’s face.

“Little brats,” Dappletail hissed, fur standing on end and legs stiff. Her sharp claws dug into the ground as she lashed her tail violently.

“We- we’re sorry,” Bramblekit squeaked, belly low, fear in his amber eyes.

Squirrelkit huddled beside him, ears flat and eyes wide. A small trickle of blood ran from her ear where a claw had nicked it.

“Tigerstar should have taken you with him! Thunderclan doesn’t want you! You’ll be evil just like him!” She screeched, claws slashing out and knocking Bramblekit to the side.

The tom cried out in pain and Fireheart felt fury flow through her veins as she shoved past the cats blocking her and leapt at the elder, teeth bared.

“STEP AWAY FROM MY KITS!” She screeched, slashing at the elder’s face.

Smallear scowled and circled around to attack her. “Just like a kittypet to defend a murderer,” he mocked.

Just before he could attack, Bluestar broke through the circle of cats, shouldering her way into the center.

“THAT IS ENOUGH,” she meowed, eyes firm. “What is the meaning of this?”

“These little monsters woke us up asking for a story! As if we would ever entertain the likes of murderers and kittypets,” Dappletail spat, glaring at Fireheart as she put herself in front of her kits.

Bluestars eyes narrowed impossibly further. She whirled around to face the two kits.

“Is this true?” She demanded.

Bramblekit and Squirrelkit cowed further under her gaze.

“We didn’t mean to wake them,” Bramblekit meowed, Squirrelkit nodding frantically. “We’re really sorry!”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Fireheart meowed soothingly before turning her bright green eyes towards the elders.

“No kit is to ever be harmed, that is the warrior code after all. Even if some cats can’t seem to remember that,” she spat, glaring at the two elders.

“Enough! Elders are to be treated with respect,” Bluestar meowed. “The kits should know their place,” she meowed, coldly.

Fireheart’s eyes widened in shock, “they attacked my kits!”

“The kits should know better then to bother their elders.”

“Tigerstar never knew better,” Dappletail muttered.

Fireheart’s claws unsheathe and she swung around to face the elder head on only to be interrupted by Bluestar.

“That’s enough from both of you, the clan has been disturbed enough. Go to your dens,” Bluestar meowed, before turning away and heading towards Highrock.

Dappletail sniffed before turning her nose up and stalking into the elder’s den. Smallear glared at the kits before following.

“Wait, that’s it? You’re letting them get away with attacking my kits!?” Fireheart cried out.

Bluestar barely paused, only turning her head back slightly to respond.

“Let it be a lesson to them to respect their elders,” she meowed.

Fireheart’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to retort only to be cut off.

“Seems like that’s something you need to be reminded of too.”

Flashback End

Fireheart felt the echoes of anger stir in her bones but with an exhausted sigh, she let it go. She needed a level head right now; anger would only cloud her vision.

She gazed worriedly at her kits as she walked.

Bramblekit’s shoulder still bore the scratches and she knew it bothered her son even if he never complained. He always did have a kind heart, letting her carry his sisters even when his shoulder ached.

Squirrelkit’s ear was more healed as the wound was smaller but the nick in her ear was something she would bare forever.

Not for the first time, Fireheart felt hatred for the clan that had taken her in. She should have got them out of there sooner. She would forever blame herself for their injuries.

“Let’s go,” she murmurs, nudging her kits to their paws. The sooner they reached Barley’s and Ravenpaw’s barn, the sooner they could rest.

They had just left Thunderclan’s boarders, with all that remained between them and safety being the vast moors of Windclan.

She kept herself low to the ground and hidden as best as she could. Without the foliage and shade offered by Thunderclan’s trees, she felt exposed and vulnerable.

“Keep close to me,” she hissed out quietly to her kits who seemed to have picked up on her increased tenseness and remained huddled around her paws quietly.

She moved, pausing more often to scent the air for danger.

The sun was slowly sinking meaning the last of the patrols would be finishing up which meant they were less likely to be spotted.

However, it also meant that it would be colder. The cool leaf-bare winds not quite ready to relinquish its hold on the forests even when it was meant to be well into Newleaf.

She knew she had to find shelter, reluctantly accepting that she likely wouldn’t be seeing Ravenpaw and Barley tonight.

Her kits would never make it.

Already, she could see their exhaustion in the way Bramblekit’s tail drooped, dragging in the dust, in how Squirrelkit’s persistent chatter had gone, leaving only a numb, determined walk.

In Tawnykit’s coughs and shuttering breaths and Leafkit’s silence, any twinge or movement having stopped the longer they remained in the outside chill. The only way she knew she was still alive was from the soft breathes warming her neck.

She scanned the area, desperately searching for somewhere to hunker down for the night, a rabbit den or a ditch that would at least offer them some protection from the winds.

She was on the verge of giving up, paws sore and tired, chest heaving and heart heavy.

It was only for her kits that she kept moving, unwilling to give up on them like everyone else.

Too her dismay, it started to rain. Droplets falling from the sky as if Starclan themselves were weeping for the predicament she found herself in.

Desperately, Fireheart looked around, searching for a place to take shelter until the rain had passed.

“Keep close,” she murmured as she hastened her pace. The kits stayed tucked to her side, shivering heavily as the rain grew stronger.

She cursed internally, Windclan was nothing but bare moors and meadows.

‘Maybe I should loop back to Thunderclan?’ she thought, ‘If I stay by the border, we can leave before the dawn patrol and we’d have better luck of finding shelter.’

Just as she was about to turn them around, a squeal grabbed her attention.

She turned to the side to find Bramblekit and Tawnykit staring at nothing.

‘Squirrelkit!’ She raced over, wondering how she had missed them when she saw a ray of hope.

“Mama, I’m all gross now,” Squirrelkit sulked, her fluffy ginger fur coated in mud from where she had fallen into a burrow.

A burrow, perfect.

“It’ll be alright,” she hushed, “everybody in.”

It was a tight squeeze as she didn’t want to go too far in and get lost or stuck, but the overhang kept most of the rain out and if she turned her back to the entrance, her kits were sheltered.

She laid down on her side and ushered her kits into the crook of her belly.

Nudging Leafkit, she breathed a sigh of relief when the kit squirmed.

“Mama?”

She lifted her head and huffed a gentle laugh.

Her daughters’ fur was stained with mud and the disgruntled look on her face looked so much like her fathers.

“Come here,” she meowed, dragging her closer with a paw.

As she groomed her kits, she wondered what her ex-mate was doing. Did he miss them? Did he still care about them or did he ever care? How would they get to Barely and Ravenpaw’s barn in the storm? They were still a ways away from the barn and the rain showed no sign of letting up.

A quiet meow broke her out of her thoughts, and she shook her head. ‘Focus, Fireheart,’ she scolded, internally.

“Yes?”

Tawnykit hesitated before a surge of determination flooded her eyes and she set her chin squarely.

“What do we do now?” she meowed, green eyes boring into Fireheart's own. A perfect, innocent reflection.

What do we do now indeed?

Chapter Text

Windclan Allegiances:

Leader: Tallstar-black and white tom

Deputy: Deadfoot-black tom twisted front paw

Medicine cat: Barkface-brown tom

Warriors:
Tornear-tabby tom
Mudclaw-mottled dark brown tom
Onewhisker-brown tabby tom
Runningbrook-light gray tabby she-cat
Robinwing-light brown shecat blue eyes

Apprentices:
Webpaw-dark gray tabby tom
Tawnypaw-golden brown shecat
Whitepaw-small white shecat
Eaglepaw-gray tom

Queens:
Ashfoot-gray queen mother of Crowkit
Morningflower-tortoiseshell queen mother of Gorsekit

Kits: Gorsekit-lean brown tabby tom
Crowkit-dark smoky gray tom

Elders:
Crowfur-small black tom
Oatwhisker-creamy brown tabby
Hickorynose-brown tom
Lilywhisker-light brown shecat injured hind leg and amber eyes

The rain had stopped.

That was the first thing Fireheart registered as she woke up.

The second was that she and her kits were no longer alone.

“I told you I could smell something!”

“Good job, Eaglepaw,” Deadfoot praised, dark eyes meeting her own. “Now just what is a Thunderclan warrior doing on Windclan territory?”

Fireheart slowly got to her paws, staggering as her sore muscles groaned in protest at the movement.

Her kits remained quiet, hiding behind her in the tunnel and out of sight.

“Apologies, Deadfoot. We did not mean to stay here. We just got caught in the rain and had to seek shelter. We will leave now.”

Fireheart didn’t have the energy to fight not to mention she was outnumbered 4 to 1.

All she could do was pray that they let her, and her kits leave unscathed.

She stepped forward only for Deadfoot to block her path.

“Not so fast,” he meowed.

His eyes were cold.

“While Windclan appreciated your help earlier, we cannot allow Thunderclan cats to wander aimlessly on our territory.”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re not Thunderclan cats anymore,” Fireheart growled, tired and not wanting to deal with this.

Deadfoot’s eyes widened slightly in shock.

“And who’s this we you speak of?” Tornear growled, the other Windclan warriors finally stepping in.

“Mama?”

Both toms took a step back in surprize. Deadfoot staring straight at the tunnel they had slept in.

“What are kits doing out here?” a light grey tabby shecat breathed, “there was so much rain last night! They should be tucked up in a den not out here in the cold!”

“Fireheart, explain,” Deadfoot commanded.

Fireheart contemplated her options before sighing in defeat.

There was no way she could outrun them, not with her kits. She just had to hope that they would not attack.

'The warrior code says that all kits are to be protected' she reminded herself, even if she knew not all cats obeyed that rule.

“Kits come out here,” she called softly.

Tawnykit poked her face out, eyes widening at the sight of the Windclan warriors.

“Hurry up!” Squirrelkit called from behind her sister, shoving her way out.

“It’s stuffy down there,” she complained, padding over to her mother completely ignoring the Windclan cats.

“Hush.”

Bramblekit guided the frail Leafkit to their mother’s side. Fireheart’s heart twinged at the sight.

Her youngest kits eyes were glazed, and her breathing laboured. They had to find someplace warm to sleep tonight.

“Fireheart?” Deadfoot meowed, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head, before explaining.

“Me and my kits are no longer part of Thunderclan. We are heading to Barely and Ravenpaw’s barn and would appreciate it if you would let us through.”

Her eyes set on the horizon, the mountains a dim ray of hope.

They just had to make it to the mountains. Ravenpaw and Barley wouldn't turn them away.

Deadfoot’s sharp eyes narrowed. “Why would Bluestar exile a queen and her kits? That does not sound like her.”

His tone was aloof but questioning, prodding.

“It is none of your concern,” she meowed.

“Like Starclan it isn’t,” the grey tabby shecat meowed again, eyes glowing with fury. “The wellbeing of all kits is everyone’s responsibility!”

“Quiet, Runningbrook,” Deadfoot snapped.

The shecat, now identified as Runningbrook fell back quietly, her eyes still smouldering.

“However, she is right. Now sane cat would exile a nursing queen and kits,” the toms tone became gentle. “We shall esc-”

He was cut off by a sharp cough as Leafkit hunched over, gasping for breath.

Fireheart panicked, holding her kit close as the coughs rattled her small frame. “Breath, little one, I’ve got you,” she murmured, heart beating fast. “You’re alright, it’s alright.”

As Fireheart encouraged Leafkit to take deep breathes, Deadfoot scanned the small, haggard group. His eyes became calculating, something unknown to Fireheart flashing through them, gone in a heartbeat.

“Your kits aren’t well,” he commented, looking at still heaving Leafkit, the shivering Tawnykit and the still healing wounds on Bramblekit and Squirrelkit, their skinny frames and weary eyes.

His concern for her went unspoken.

Fireheart knew she looked a mess. Skinny from not eating enough, fur thinning and ungroomed from stress and a deep, harrowed look in her eyes.

“Eaglepaw,” Deadfoot meowed, catching the small tom’s attention.

“Go back to camp and let Tallstar and Barkface know we will be having guests.” The young tom nodded before sprinting away.

As he ran off, Deadfoot approached the ginger queen.

“I know you want to head to the barn, but your kits will never make it at this rate. Let us bring you back to camp and treat them. If you still want to leave come tomorrow, I shall personally escort you to the border.”

His eyes once again met her own, searching.

Fireheart knew she had no other option, the tom’s words leaving no room for protest. Like it or not, they needed help.

“Very well, we accept.”

Runningbrook stepped forward and picked up Tawnykit and Deadfoot did the same with Bramblekit. Fireheart picked up Leafkit and Tornear, with a sigh, picked up Squirrelkit.

With that, Deadfoot flicked his tail and led the group back to Windclan camp.

Tornear fall in behind them, Fireheart could feel his suspicious gaze on her.

Runningbrook fell into step beside her, the young shecat smiling gently around the kit in her mouth.

She took a deep breath. She could sense more rain coming. Fervently, she prayed that Windclan would let them go quickly. They were running out of time.

Chapter Text

“Run!”

Fireheart ran like her life depended on it, which it very much did.

She followed the other queens, heading directly towards Sunningrocks.

Taking a chance, she looked back and felt a flicker of hope. They had made good distance.

“Look out!”

Goldenflower shrieked, as one of the dogs from before smashed through the bushes ahead of them.

Fireheart froze before leaping back into action, dodging to the left and continuing to charge ahead with the other queens.

Leaping over logs, ducking under ferns, pushing her body to the limit and beyond.

This time, with a furious dog nipping at her heals.

The moons in the nursery had weakened her body but her mind remembered how.

Fireheart ran.

The dog followed.

“Almost there!” Goldenflower called back, leading the way as she was not carrying a kit.

Fireheart’s heart was pounding but she could see Sunning rocks ahead.

“What about the dog!?” Brindleface called out around the kit squirming in her mouth.

Sandstorm raced ahead and passed Bramblekit to Goldenflower. “Go, I’ve got this.”

There was no time to complain, Fireheart could hear the dog catching up.

Fireheart blinked gratefully at the shecat as she raced past. ‘Please Starclan,’ she begged, ‘let us get out of this alive!’

With a last desperate heave, the queens arrived at Sunningrocks.

Goldenflower and Frostfur had already started to climb and with an aching body, Fireheart followed.

Just as she thought they would make it out alive, a squeal sounded from behind her and she turned round to see Brindleface being dragged back down by her leg, Tawnykit crying out from her mouth.

Fireheart was frozen in shock as the dog hauled her friend and her daughter down, the rest of the dogs circling around the newly caught pray.

Fireheart placed her kit down before charging over to help but before she could do anything, Brindleface flung the kit she was holding toward the pack of dogs, taking advantage of their clambering to climb back up Sunningrocks.

Fireheart’s heart stopped. All she could focus on was the dogs charging toward her daughter.

She ran forward, ready to leap to her daughters rescue only for Goldenflower to grab her and drag her back.

“She’s already dead, don’t waste your breath.”

Fireheart stared at her, disbelievingly, before shoving her away and running to the edge.

She skidded to a stop and let out a cry of pure agony.

She could barely see her daughters fur beneath the frantic dogs and she knew that there was no way her kit had survived.

Her vision turned red and in a flash, she was at Brindlefaces side, teeth digging into the other queens shoulder. Her cry of pain only made her bite down harder.

Before she could do anything more, her vision went black.

Fireheart was numb, that was the only word that fit. Her three surviving kits suckled at her belly while she lay partially shaded under a tree.

There had been practically nothing of her daughter to bury.

The sound of Bluestar calling a meeting broke her out of her thoughts but she made no move to participate, the death of her daughter the only thing on her mind.

What could she have done differently? Why did Brindleface do that? Tawnykit!

Once everyone had gathered, Bluestar spoke again. “Are we missing anyone?”

“Runningwind isn’t here yet,” Mousefur meowed, worriedly.

“Neither is Halftail or Patchpelt,” Oneeye called out.

Dappletail shakily got to her paws, “I, Runningwind is dead. I was too late to stop it…” She sat back down, looking at her paws.

Mousefur wailed, Oneeye turning away to hide the pain in her eyes.

Bluestar let them be for a moment before continuing. “Runningwind will be missed greatly. We will send search parties for Halftail and Patchpelt after the meeting. Is there anything else to report?”

Goldenflower stood next, “Tawnykit was killed by the dogs when we attempted to escape to Sunningrocks.”

Bluestar nodded, “a shame, the clan will grieve-”

“Killed by the dogs!?” Fireheart meowed, stumbling raggedly to her feet. “The dogs wouldn’t have touched her if you hadn’t literally thrown her too them! You killed my daughter!” She yowled, tears streaming down her face.

“I- it- the dog would have killed me!” Brindleface meowed, nervously, taking a step back.

“Then you should have died,” Fireheart meowed, flatly.

“That is enough,” Bluestar meowed, voice sharp. “Tawnykit’s death was a tragedy but Brindleface did what she had to do to survive.”

Fireheart stared at her former mentor in shock. “She sacrificed my kit!”

“And Tawnykit will be honoured for it!”

“She should be alive!”

“The stars will welcome her.”

“The same stars you know longer believe in?” Fireheart hissed.

“ENOUGH! There will be no more of this. Is there any other news?”

Fireheart wanted to sink her claws into Brindlefaces throat, the only thing holding her back being the terrified meows of her other remaining kits. They didn’t even know they had lost a sister yet.

Thornclaw spoke next, the tom getting nervously to his paws.

“Yes, Thornclaw?”

“Right when the dogs came in, I could smell Shadowclan… I couldn’t pinpoint a smell though.”

“I could,” Longtail growled, “Tigerstar’s scent was everywhere. I didn’t put it together at the time, but I believe these dogs are what killed Swiftclaw-” He choked a bit before continuing, “and attacked Cloudtail and Brightheart.”

Fireheart’s heart stopped, a jolt of yearning rushing through her at the name before the meaning of his words set in, she felt her already breaking heart crack further. Her mate, ex-mate, had almost had them killed. Had killed Swiftclaw and gravely injured her nephew and Brightheart. Had gotten Tawnykit killed. The pain turned to anger. She blinked, knocking herself out of her angry haze as all heads turned to face her.

“You did this…”

“What?” Fireheart meowed, getting to her paws to face her leader.

“You brought Tigerstar here! This is your fault!”

“Bluestar, no that’s-”

His blood still haunts this clan!” Bluestar turned her cold eyes to the three kits who sat huddled at the base of the stones.

“As long as these kits survive, the clan will never be free of his legacy,” she murmured, a deranged look in her eyes.

“Bluestar, I-” Whitestorm stepped in only to be cut off.

“No! Enough! Fireheart,” Bluestar meowed, voice sickeningly sweet as she blinked softly. “These kits need to be punished on his behalf and as do you for birthing them. Fireheart.”

Fireheart couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was Bluestar really trying to blame the dog attack on her kits? They were barely three moons old!

Wasn’t Tawnykit enough?

“Fireheart,” Bluestar continued. “As your punishment, you must rid the clan of Tigerstar’s blood.”

As her words registered in her brain, understanding and fear flooded her body. She turned her head to look at her kits and could see the fear and confusion in their eyes.

Fireheart glanced around desperately, looking for anyone to say something, do something. To stop this madness.

“Good riddance,” Darkstripe muttered darkly. No one said anything to quiet him.

Goldenflower glaring at the kits whose father had taken her son.

Fireheart would never take anything from Brindleface again.

The finality of the words sunk in, Bluestar wanted her to kill her kits.

A fierce protective wave rushed over her.

She had already lost her daughter and the stars be damned she lose the rest.

“No. No! My kits are innocent! They are not their father nor are they responsible for what happened! I have already lost my daughter, I refuse to lose anyone else”

Bluestar’s eyes narrowed even further, and a growl started in the back of her throat.

“Last chance.” Bluestar’s eyes met Firehearts own. “Do not disappoint me, former apprentice.”

Fireheart felt sick, termers shaking her body to the core. Her daughters terrified eyes flashed through her mind. She took a deep breath and gathered her kits with her tail, standing protectively over them. “No,” she meowed firmly, unwavering green eyes meeting her former mentors (mother’s) own.

“No, I will not kill my kits.”

“Then get out.”

Fireheart blinked, taking a step back. “What?”

“Get out! Get OUT! GET OUT!” Bluestar yowled, ears flat against her head and eyes narrowed slits. Her claws dug into the earth as her whole body shook as from barely restrained anger.

“Take these vermin and leave! Never come back! From this moment on, Fireheart and her kits are exiled from Thunderclan! If they are seen on our territory after dusk, you have my permission to kill them.”

Bluestar shook her head, icy blue eyes boring into her. “You disappoint me,” she meowed, before turning away. “Darkstripe, Longtail, make sure they leave.”

Fireheart watched her mentor walk away until a nudge broke her stare.

“Come on,” Longtail muttered, “let’s go.” Darkstripe smirked, shoving past her, “better hope I don’t see you after dusk,” he mocked.

Fireheart glanced at her clan desperately. No one would meet her gaze, and no one stopped them as they were led out of camp. The strength that had flooded her earlier was gone leaving her tired and broken. Her clan had exiled her. Now, she was truly alone.

“Mama? What’s going on?” Bramblekit meowed, huddled under her belly. Her heart ached; she wasn’t fully alone. She had to be strong even if it killed her. Her kits needed her now more than ever.

Tawnykit had needed her…

It was cold and Fireheart couldn’t feel anything. Not just literally although she could no longer feel her paws, but her heart was frozen. There was nothing to say. Her daughter was dead, and they were exiled.

“Mama, wheres Tawnykit? We got to go back for Tawnykit!” Squirrelkit meowed, insistently.

“We need to keep moving,” Fireheart murmured, not having it in her to do much more then put one foot in front of the other.

“But Tawnykit-”

“Is dead,” Fireheart spat, whirling around to glare with anger and pain at her kit. Silence rang over the clearing. Squirrelkit stared wide eyed at her mother, Bramblekit moving to stand protectively in front of her. Leafkit barely responded, eyes clouded and tired.

Instantly, Fireheart felt horrible.

“I-I’m sorry,” she gasped out, tears falling down her eyes once again. “I’m sorry!”

Maybe if she said it enough, Tawnykit would hear her?

Squirrelkit crept forward to lean her head on her mother’s paws. Bramblekit followed, nudging Leafkit to join them. Her kits curled around their mother’s body, comforting her in the only way they knew. The same way she had comforted them many times before.

Back when the warriors would glare suspiciously at the kits whilst they played. When the elders would chase them away from the den whenever they asked for a story. When Bluestar would watch them from Highrock, a murderous glint in her eye.

Fireheart breathed; her kits still needed her.

Just as she was about to stand to move, a flash of lightning lit the area and thunder crackled loudly as rain started to fall.

They were out of time.

Squirrelkit squealed from shock and Fireheart stood, urging her kits to follow her as she grabbed Leafkit by the scruff.

‘We’re still in Thunderclan territory! We need to get out!’

The rain grew heavier, and it became harder to move as strong winds kept buffeting them back. At one point, Bramblekit was blown back, crashing into her legs with a startled squeal.

Fireheart bitterly accepted that they wouldn’t be leaving the territory today.

Glancing around, she spotted a tree with exposed roots. Not ideal, but it would have to do.

Ushing her kits inside, she collapsed exhausted. No words were spoken, all of them too tired to do much more them share tongues and sleep.

Fireheart gazed worriedly at her smallest kit.

Leafkit’s flanks rose and fell and to the steady beating of their hearts, she fell asleep.

She slept longer than she meant too. That was the first thought on her mind.

The second was that something was wrong.

Her side was too cold, colder than it was last night.

With a start, she sat up and let out a wail of horror as Leafkit’s stiff body fell on its side. Sometime during the night, her daughter had joined the stars.

“Leafkit? Leafkit, wake up! Please, wake up!”

Her crying had woken Bramblekit and Squirrelkit, the two huddled together staring at their sister’s body in shock.

“Mama, why isn’t Leafkit moving? Is she still asleep?”

Fireheart bit back a chocked sob, she had two kits still. They didn’t need to see this.

“Lets go,” Fireheart meowed, grabbing Squirrelkit and dropping her outside their small, makeshift den.

“What about Leafkit?” she asked, as Fireheart deposited Bramblekit beside her.

“Leaf- Leafkit needs to sleep a little more,” she soothed, “I’ll come back for her.”

‘I promise’ she thought.

“Let’s go.”

She needed to get them off Thunderclans territory before dawn.

“Is Leafkit going to be with Tawnykit?” Bramblekit asked.

Fireheart didn’t answer.

As the trio continued moving, Fireheart grew more and more nervous.

The Windclan boarder was close, she could smell it, but daylight had already started to creep over the horizon and the dawn patrol would be out soon.

She quickened her pace, pushing away her grief and pain and focusing on just keeping moving. She would have time to grieve once they were at the barn.

Squirrelkit and Bramblekit had picked up on her agitation, the two kits glancing around nervously as they raced beside her.

Up ahead, Fireheart could see the treeline and a wave of relief washed over her. They were going to make it.

“Where do you think you too are going?”

Fireheart skidded to a stop as Darkstripe leapt in front of her.

“Darkstripe,” she growled.

“Uh, uh, uh, you heard Bluestar! You’re not supposed to be here,” the tom taunted.

“And we won’t be,” Fireheart meowed, trying to hide the fear in her meow. “Windclan boarder is right there, and we’ll be going,” she meowed, twisting around him whilst trying to keep her kits ahead of her.

“Not so fast,” he meowed, slamming a paw down on her tail. She bit back a yelp.

“Bluestar said that if we saw you,” his eyes narrowed, “you’d be killed.”

“RUN!” Fireheart yelled as Darkstripe leapt at her, teeth bared and claws out. She didn’t have a chance to check if they’d obeyed as she ducked, rearing up under him and sending him flying.

The tabby twisted midair to land on his paws, “quiet a move, kittypet! But you won’t fool me twice!”

The tom raced towards her and Fireheart narrowly dodged, wincing when his claws caught her side.

Darkstripe had had the night to recover from the dog attack and Fireheart had barely seen the coward even fight whereas she had been exiled and had to walk the remainder of the night. She was in no state to battle.

Darkstripe barely paused before swinging around and leaping onto her back, his bigger size sending her to the floor. She gasped for breath frantically as he kept her pined.

“Die Kittypet,” he hissed, fangs aiming for her throat.

‘I’m sorry, Leafkit. I won’t be able to bury you. Stay strong, my babies.”

Just before his fangs could meet her throat, his weight was gone, and Fireheart gasped for air frantically, rolling onto her belly.

She glanced to see who had protected her only to find Bramblekit, her sweet, eldest son, standing protectively between her and the tom.

“Leave my mother alone!” He yelled.

“Bramblekit!” She barely had time to yell before Darkstripe struck, sending her son flying into a nearby tree with a single blow.

His small body fell to the ground, unmoving.

Anger flooded through her body, stronger than ever as she turned to face the tom.

He grinned evilly at her and Fireheart charged.

The two were locking together, fury and anger and pain driving every blow. Every hit he made; Fireheart returned tenfold. Clumps of fur were flung across the clearing, blood staining the sandy earth red.

Dimly, Fireheart realized that her opponent’s blows were weaking. Darkstripe’s attacks became more frantic as he tried to fend her off. She was winning.

With a powerful swipe, Fireheart slammed the tom into the ground. Rearing back, she let her own fangs rush towards his throat, eyes narrowed in rage.

“Mama?!”

‘Squirrelkit!’ Her eyes widened and she slowed, the split second being all the tom needed to break her grip and rush away. She ignored the tom, frantically scanning the clearing, searching for her daughter.

“Squirrelkit?!”

“Looking for someone,” Bluestar meowed, ice in her voice. Her paw had her daughter pinned to the ground, Squirrelkit’s bright green eyes meeting her own.

“Let her go,” she meowed, desperately.

“I told you, you were exiled,” Bluestar continued, as if Fireheart hadn’t spoken.

“I told you to be off my land before dawn.”

“Bluestar, please,” Fireheart begged, trying to move forward only to be blocked by Goldenflower and Whitestorm.

The dawn patrol had arrived. Fireheart peered desperately over Whitestorm’s shoulder, eyes meeting her daughters again.

“Squirrelkit, it’ll be okay!” She yelled, only for Goldenflower to slash her shoulder.

“Quiet, Bluestar is talking,” her former fellow queen growled.

“Thank you, Goldenflower,” Bluestar meowed. “As I was saying, I gave you a chance Fireheart. You could have destroyed the evil that plagued the clan, or you could leave with it and you made your choice.”

“Bluestar, please, we’ll leave. Please, we’ll leave and you’ll never here from us again,” Fireheart pleaded, grovelling at her former leaders’ paws, eyes never leaving her daughters.

“Very well.” Fireheart looked up, hope blooming in her chest as she met her eyes.

“I hear that the rest are dead so only one remains,” Bluestar meowed.

“Kill it.”

Revulsion flickered in her chest, “never.”

“Fine, you have made your choice.”

With that, Bluestar leaned down and snapped the kits neck, not even giving her a chance to cry out.

“NOOOOO!” Fireheart yelled, shoving her way towards her kits body.

Whitestorm and Goldenflower forcibly shoving her back.

Bluestar walked forward slowly as Fireheart collapsed to the ground, staring with empty eyes at her kit’s bodies.

“You could have been great, you know?”

With that, they left. Leaving Fireheart alone with only her dead kits to comfort her.

Her dead kits who she had failed.

Her kits... gone.

The sun slowly rose, beaming down on her and turning her dirty, ruffled pelt into flames.

She didn’t move, couldn’t move.

Her only reasons for living were dead now. Where could she go? She knew Ravenpaw and Barely wouldn’t turn her away but a life without her kits just didn’t seem worth it to her.

The sun was well in the sky when she finally dragged herself up.

Her eyes didn’t have any more tears to cry as she buried her kits, going back for Leafkit’s body, making sure not to be seen.

She wished she could have had them buried beside Tawnykit but there was no way she would make it to Sunningrocks without getting caught. At least they would all be together in Starclan.

Her heart felt so empty. She had nothing in her life left to give her meaning or purpose. Her clan had exiled her. Her friends, baring Graystripe and Ravenpaw, had abandoned her. Her mate had been exiled and now her kits were dead.

She couldn’t fight it anymore, pain causing her to curl in on herself.

“Why this? What did I do to deserve this? What did my kits do to deserve this besides be born?” She yelled, glaring up at the sky. “Why did you do this to me?! Why did you bring me here only to abandon me!? ANSWER ME DAMMIT!”

“The stars won’t answer you,” a strange voice meowed.

Fireheart spun around, scared and angry. “Whose there?!”

“The stars don’t want to speak with you,” the voice continued.

Fireheart could hear that it was distinctly female and full of bitterness, pain and a righteous anger.

Fireheart looked carefully over the clearing, eyes scanning the tree line, almost missing a pale, translucent shape.

“Who are you?” She blinked, the form becoming clearer.

“Who I am does not matter. What matters is what you will do next.”

Fireheart took a step closer, “what did you mean by Starclan not wanting to speak with me?”

“Think, you fool! If Starclan truly cared, wouldn’t they be here right now? Wouldn’t they have stopped this madness! Wouldn’t they have saved your kits!? Face it, the stars care nothing for the living.”

Fireheart was cold but it was true, she reflected. The stars could have stopped this. They had the power to stop this, and they didn’t. Why?

“Who are you?” She meowed again.

“I am just like you.”

“Explain.”

A sigh sounded out, exhausted but relenting as a shimmering form, outlined in red became visible.

“My name is Mapleshade and the Thunderclan betrayed me too.”

Fireheart’s eyes narrowed, “I’ve never heard of you.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Mapleshade conceded, tilting her head. “The clan erased any evidence of my existence.”

“Why would they do that?” She challenged, weary but ready to defend herself at a moments notice.

“I took a mate outside of the clan and bore his kits. When the clan found out, me and my kits were exiled. I tried to get them to Riverclan, to their father but they drowned. No one came to save us, no one helped us. Starclan did not care for us just as they do not care for you.”

Fireheart was no fool, she could see the similarities between their stories but that wasn’t enough for her to trust the strange tortoiseshell shecat.

“Why are you telling me this?” Mapleshade’s bright orange eyes met her own, “I got revenge for the deaths of my kits and I want to help you get yours. Thunderclan let us both down and it seems they have forgotten the lesson I taught them, perhaps its time we remind them?”

Fireheart felt herself growing determined. “Elaborate.”

The forest was not quiet.

Not if one listened carefully, like Fireheart was.

Deep amongst the green hid chirping birds and scurrying mice. The branches softly brushed against one another, the wind whistling by without a care.

But these were not the sounds Fireheart was listening for. She was waiting for one particular sound. Her ginger fur had been coated in mud to help hide her from sight as well as disguise her scent. She was upwind and hidden by a slope. They would not find her until she wanted them too.

She waited until she heard it. A voice, soft and warm and gentle.

Fireheart’s stomach flipped with nausea. This cat sounded so kind, but Fireheart knew better, she would never trust her twisted words again.

She moved, making sure to rustle some branches as she did so.

“Did you hear that?”

“It was probably nothing,” a deeper voice responded.

“I don’t know, didn’t sound like nothing.”

Fireheart held her breath, hoping the bait would be taken.

“You go on ahead, I’ll check it out.”

She grinned wickedly, ‘perfect’. She started moving forward again, making sure to occasionally dislodge branches or knock over a stone to keep the trail warm.

‘Nearly there, I’m nearly there Tawnykit,’ she thought.

‘Now.’

She arrived in the clearing and quickly leapt up the rocks, this time careful to not be seen.

A few seconds passed before a head poked out of a bush.

The shecat hesitantly moving into the clearing, scanning it wearily.

“Hello?” Fireheart held her breath. “Is anyone there?”

Everything was still.

Before a bark rang through the clearing.

Brindleface’s ears folded back, and her eyes widened in horror as the dog pack spotted her. Pounding paws barely heard over the furious barks.

Brindleface leapt into action, rushing towards Snakerocks. If she could climb high enough, the dogs wouldn’t be able to reach her, and she could wait for an opportunity to escape.

She was small and fast; she could make it.

Not to mention, she could bring this information back to camp! Now that they knew were, the dogs were located, they could think of a plan.

She leapt up one rock before moving to climb up another. Her claws digging into the hard stone just enough to give her a grip to push herself up. She just had to get up.

Her back paw slipped and she screeched in terror as she fell back slightly. The dog’s hot breath on her tail.

She looked up, she was so close.

She just had to try again.

She made a move to reach up only to find nothing to grasp.

“Fireheart?”

Fireheart said nothing, poisonous green eyes meeting the queens own.

Hope filled the queen’s eyes.

“Fireheart, help me!”

The dogs barking got louder, angry now that their meal was escaping.

Fireheart padded closer.

“Fireheart!”

Fireheart stopped just at the edge, her cold eyes, empty.

Brindleface felt a shiver go down her spine. “Fireheart?”

“For Tawnykit,” Fireheart whispered, not wanting to say a single word more to the traitorous shecat.

She dug her claws into Brindlefaces paws, grinning manically. “You shall die the same way you killed my daughter.”

She flung the paws off the stone and for a moment time froze.

Brindleface’s eyes were filled with fear, her mouth open in a cry of terror. Her paws flailed helplessly, swatting at air. And then a crack as her body hit the ground.

The dogs charged forward, and Fireheart smiled as the barking and cries of pain went quiet.

One down.

This next one would be easier, she thought. Already, she could smell her target coming closer.

Said target was completely unaware of his fate, his nose sniffing the air for pray.

Fireheart shifted, making sure she was upwind this time and smirking when the tom’s eyes widened. A bloodthirsty grin crept across the tom’s face, unknowingly echoing Fireheart’s own.

“Back for more, Fireheart? Any more kits for me to kill?” Darkstripe gloated.

Fireheart feigned terror, “Darkstripe! Please, I-” Fireheart let herself be cut off.

“Please what you traitor!” With a yowl, he lunged himself at Fireheart giving her a split second to dodge.

“Please!” She begged, stumbling away.

Darkstripe’s eyes were manical. “Not today, kittypet,” he spat.

With a bounding leap, he tackled her causing them both to fall down into a small stream that had previously been hidden by the dense shrubbery.

Fireheart had been prepared for this, Darkstripe had not.

As his body struggled to adjust to the sudden cold, Fireheart moved until she was above him and in just a second, she had his head in her paws, held down under the flowing water.

Darkstripe, finally realising what was happening, started struggling, kicking with his back legs frantically at her belly fur. Fireheart hardly winced as clumps were torn out, scatting droplets of blood. All her mind on keeping the tom in front of her down.

Time moved slowly and eventually Darkstripe’s movements turned sluggish. His eyes were blown wide and desperate, his kicks weaker.

Fireheart pushed down harder, eyes cold and merciless.

“For Bramblekit,” she hissed, as the tom’s movements gradually seized.

Fireheart waited a couple more minutes, just to be sure before leaving the stream, leaving the toms body to rot in the water. It was what he deserved.

Two down.

Fireheart was torn, she had too options for her next targets and Mapleshade had been no help.

Eventually, Fireheart decided to camp out and wait for one of her targets to arrive. Whichever one showed up first would be her victim.

Settled, Fireheart waited for the sunhigh patrol.

Everything in the forest was busy at sunhigh, birds chirping, mouse scrambling, the distant sound of monsters on the Thunderpath.

Eventually, her target arrived.

“Alright, I’m going to finish checking this boarder, the rest of you go on ahead. Mousefur, I want you to mark the next one.”

Mousefur nodded, before leaving with the rest of the patrol.

Fireheart shrugged; this target would work just as well. She waited until the white tom was closer before moving.

“Whitestorm?” She whispered. “Whitestorm!?”

The toms head swung towards her.

“Fireheart!? What are you doing here?!” He whispered, blue eyes wide.

“Please, Whitestorm, please, I need your help!” Fireheart meowed, desperately.

Whitestorm looked apprehensive, “Fireheart, you’re a rouge, I can’t help you.”

Fireheart feigned fear, “I know, I know but I really need your help! It’s Leafkit, she’s hurt.”

Whitestorm took a step forward; he didn’t see the kit at all in their earlier confrontation so she could still be alive.

“Fireheart, you need to leave, if Bluestar-”

“I can’t leave! Leafkit’s stuck and I can’t get to her without help! Please, I can’t lose my last kit.”

Whitestorm’s chest ached, he didn’t agree with Bluestar’s actions, but she was his leader, and he would follow her to the end as was his duty.

“Fireheart, you need to leave.”

“Please,” Fireheart begged, worried now that her plan might fail. “Just help me get Leafkit then we’ll leave, and you’ll never hear from us again.”

Whitestorm hesitated.

Fireheart pushed her opportunity, “please.” She kept her head down and her body low. “It’s the clan’s law to never abandon a kit in pain.”

Whitestorm caved, “okay, take me to her but quick! Before the patrol notices I’m late.”

Fireheart perked up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she meowed, eyes flashing gratitude.

“Hurry,” Whitestorm urged, the large tom clearly nervous.

Fireheart nodded, “this way.”

The two hurried through the forest, Fireheart mentally congratulated her acting skills. Mapleshade was a brilliant teacher, not that she’d ever tell her that.

“Where is she?” Whitestorm meowed, looking around.

“Just over here, she fell down the drain,” Fireheart meowed.

The two crossed the Thunderpath, Whitestorm growing more worried.

He sniffed the drain, “I don’t smell her,” he mused. “Are you sure this is the right-” he looked up.

“Fireheart?”

Fireheart said nothing, eyes cold.

“Fireheart, where’s Leafkit?” Whitestorm demanded. “Fireheart?!”

“She’s dead,” Fireheart meowed, frozen and hostile. “Your warriors killed her! They killed them all!” She yowled.

Whitestorm froze in shock.

“For Leafkit,” she meowed, thinking of how the tom stood by and let them be exiled into the cold night. Of the tom who let her daughter freeze to death and stood by while the others were murdered. The Whitestorm in the white storm.

The sound of thunder sounded in clear skies.

“Fireh-”

The tom’s words were cut off.

Fireheart breathed in the harsh, arid scents left behind by the monsters.

Three down.

One left, she thought.

Just one left. Then this would be over.

She giggled quietly, mind gone leaving nothing but a desperate need for revenge and justice.

One left, one more.

In was night, the sun about to rise.

Just like that day when her last daughter died.

One more.

She snuck in through the dirtplace tunnel.

One left.

She crept into the leader’s den, almost laughing at how easy it was. She would have had it not given away her cover.

One more.

She stood over her former leader, former mentor, former friend. Her mind finding it easy to connect the similarities between now and when Tigerstar was here. Maybe her and her mate had more in common then she last thought.

One left.

The first death was quick, a slash to the throat. Bluestar didn’t even wake.

One more.

The second was more challenging. When she came too, her eyes shot open and met Fireheart’s own.

“Fire-” She didn’t even get a chance to complete her sentence before Fireheart took another life. She came back slower next time, but her movements were more desperate.

One left.

“Fire- help-” Fireheart ripped her open, letting her blood slowly cover the ground.

One more.

Bluestar heaved a breath, eyes flicking open. Fireheart paused and leant down to whisper in her former mentors ear.

“For Squirrelkit,” she whispered. Bluestar’s eyes widened before glazing over as her neck was snapped, just like her daughters had been.

Fireheart sat back; her job was done.

She left the den, not looking back and sat in the middle of the clearing.

As the clan awoke, the sun rose, turning her pelt into flickering flames.

Fireheart held her head up high as they devoured her.

“Well, how do you feel?”

“I feel…. Complete.”

“You did well, Fireheart.”

“Don’t call me that...”

Mapleshade tilted her head, the dark forest cold and forbidding.

“What do you want me to call you?”

She was no longer Fireheart.

Her fire had gone out leaving nothing but pain and ashes.

But from those ashes, came her second life.

“… Call me Ember.”

Bonus Bonus:
Tigerstar waged war on Thunderclan the moment he heard about the fate of his mate and kits. Tigerstar tore Goldenflower apart, left Longtail to the dogs and nodded his begrudging thanks to Sandstorm, Cloudtail, Brightheart and Yellowfang. To Cinderpaw, he owed his everything, for being there for his mate when he couldn’t be. Shadowclan left to their home leaving the remains of Thunderclan to build themselves back up from the ashes, Starclan willing.

Chapter Text

Deadfoot was curious but he was patient.

It was one of the traits that had earned him his place as deputy after all.

He knew that there was a great deal more to Fireheart’s story then her just wanting to leave the clan. The shecat had put too much effort into being accepted to just leave so suddenly, especially after the birth of her kits.

‘Although,’ the tom supposed, ‘a queen would do anything to protect her kits and Tigerstar’s kits are going to need that protection.’ He side eyed the ginger queen. Whether the decision had truly been hers or forced upon her, he could see the benefits to leaving Thunderclan, kits in tow.

Thunderclan had been changing from the proud clan it had once been. The other two clans might be blinded for now but Windclan had always prided themselves on their open minds.

Lilywhisker always claimed that the clan’s proximity to Starclan gave them that extra edge over the other clans. Deadfoot couldn’t quiet find it in himself to refute that claim.

All that aside, Deadfoot thought he had a pretty deep understanding of Fireheart for someone who wasn’t her clanmate. The queen had always been a determined warrior with a heart too large to be contained within one clan.

He thought back to when she and her friend had rescued Windclan from the cold clutches of exile. Her name and her presence bringing a much-needed warmth to the lonely clan.

It was partly thanks to her that his son got to grow up a warrior and he would forever be grateful for that.

In some shape or form, all the clans owed Fireheart.

Riverclan for feeding them during the drought, Shadowclan for ridding them of Brokenstar, and Windclan for bringing them home and preventing a battle that they would have otherwise undoubtedly lost.

Fireheart was a blessing, a true warrior.

Deadfoot would hate to see her leave.

It didn’t take much longer for the ragtag group to arrive at Windclan’s home. Eaglepaw had already alerted the camp, Deadfoot noted as Tallstar and Barkface were waiting in the clearing for them.

He padded over, directing his warriors to release the kits.

With a polite nod, Tornear left to join another patrol. Runningbrook gave Fireheart a small grin, the two shecat’s seeming to have struck up a tentative friendship in the short trip over, before chasing after the older tom.

Fireheart moved to stand beside Deadfoot, her tail wrapping nervously around her kits. The kits eyes were wide in awe, fur bushy and tails twitching in barely restrained excitement. It was only their mothers hold on them that kept them still and quiet.

“Fireheart, to what do we owe this pleasure?” Tallstar inquired, curious as to what had brought the queen all this way, especially considering last nights rain.

Fireheart dipped her head respectfully, “Tallstar, Barkface. I was just trying to get to the barn but got caught in the rain and had to seek shelter. Deadfoot offered Windclan’s services to treat my kits before we continued on our way.”

Tallstar tilted his head, “and why couldn’t Thunderclan have done this?”

Fireheart swallowed nervously, and Deadfoot watched her curious to what she would say.

“Me and my kits are no longer part of Thunderclan.”

Deadfoot saw Tallstar’s eyes widen slightly before returning to his neutral face.

“Barkface, do what you can to treat the kits,” he ordered. "No cat would abandon a kit in pain."

Barkface nodded, before leaving to grab some herbs.

“Windclan has a lot to thank you for Fireheart, we will not turn you away.”

Fireheart lowered her head in thanks. “You have no idea how grateful we are for that,” the tired queen murmured.

Tallstar’s eyes softened. “I can imagine," he murmured, eyeing the ragtag group "Lets let Barkface treat the kits then I’m sure the elders would love to tell them some stories while we talk more.”

Fireheart nodded before turning to her kits. “You heard him, I don’t want any complaints, okay?”

Tawnykit and Squirrelkit nodded, Leafkit to tired to move. Bramblekit stared apprehensively at the tall black and white tom.

“Do we have to go to the elders?” He meowed, a hint of fear in his voice despite his steady gaze.

Deadfoot was silently impressed at the kits bravery and completely at a loss, what kit refused stories from the elders???

Said elders were sitting nearby, no longer even trying to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping.

“Huh, kits these days. I bet they think they’ve heard all the stories! Well, young ones, Windclan has some stories I can guarantee you haven’t heard!” Hickorynose meowed, a wise gleam in his eyes.

Bramblekit stared in surprize at the toms open invitation before stumbling as Squirrelkit and Tawnykit pushed past him. Squirrelkit ran right up to the tom before skidding to a stop in front of him. Her ear still bore scars.

“What stories?” She asked.

Hickorynose snorted, “ever heard of Fleetfoot, hmm?” Tawnykit shook her head. “Well, he was a Windclan warrior a long time ago and was said to be the fastest cat around! Well, one day, he decided to challenge himself so he went hunting till he found a fox and…”

Deadfoot bit back a chuckle at the awed looks on the kits faces, Bramblekit having finally decided it safe enough to join his sisters, as Hickorynose wove together a tale that Deadfoot remembers fondly from his own youth. Barkface had returned and was already treated the kits who were too enraptured with the story to really notice.

“Deadfoot?”

With a start, the black tom turned to face his leader, a concerned look on the tom’s face. “You alright?”

“Sorry, just distracted. Lead the way.” Tallstar nodded, accepting that answer before leading the two into his den.

“Now,” he meowed, turning to face Fireheart, “tell us the full story.”

Fireheart was tired and nervous but beyond all of that she was relieved.

When Tallstar had asked for the full story, she had hesitated, feelings of loyalty to Thunderclan still holding strong and preventing her from speaking the whole truth but apparently, what she didn’t say didn’t matter.

Tallstar had been beyond shocked at Thunderclan’s reactions to the dog pack and the kits. He had been furious! Oh, he hid it well, but Fireheart had grown adept at seeing anger where it was normally hidden.

Barkface had returned at that point, quickly being caught up on the situation. He had explained the kits injuries to their worried mother. He was extra concerned about Leafkit, the small shekit was clearly not recovering as she should and their stint in the cold had only set that process back further.

Tallstar was burning with a righteous anger. How could a clan kick out a queen and her kits? Especially during the cold and rain? Especially when they were already ill?! Especially when there was a known dog pack on the lose?!?

When he heard of the elder’s attacks on the kits, he had to forcibly fight the desire to run to Thunderclan camp and demand answers. The kits hesitance to the elders offers for stories made sense now.

Bluestar’s treatment of Fireheart also brought forward many concerning questions.

In the end, he had extended her an offer, Deadfoot and Barkface backing him up.

Fireheart and her kits were allowed to stay in Windclan for as long as they needed until they either chose to leave in which case they would be escorted to the border by Tallstar personally or until Thunderclan made moves to accept them back. Tallstar dimly hoped that didn’t happen, that clan clearly didn’t deserve the warrior Fireheart was. Nor did they deserve four innocent kits.

Fireheart had been hesitant at first, but it was Barkface’s admonishes for the kits condition, and secretly Fireheart’s own, that made her agree.

"From this moment onwards, Fireheart and her kits are to be treated as any other Windclan cat."

“This meeting is dismissed.”

Chapter Text

Bramblekit was not tired. Even if he should be.

He and his sisters had spent the day listening to stories told by the elders and playing with Gorsekit and Eaglepaw (when the apprentice had finished his duties of course) and now mama said it was time for bed.

His sisters were already asleep, he could hear Squirrelkit’s snores from where he was sitting at the nursery entrance.

Don’t get him wrong, he tried to sleep. Really, he did! But he couldn’t, it was too different.

Everything was quieter here.

No rustling trees, no birds flying overhead, no shuffling bushes.

It was just grass and wind.

Lots of wind.

Scary wind.

Not that he was scared! Of course not!

But Leafkit had hidden under their mother’s tail to hide from the whistling wind.

He wasn’t a scaredy cat! (Not that Leafkit was! He loved his sister and even if she was, she had him to protect her!).

Regardless, Bramblekit wasn’t tired and as such, he didn’t want to sleep. ‘If mama was awake right now, he would be in big trouble!’ he thought.

He snuck a look back into the nursery, calming slightly when he saw his mother still fast asleep, her tail wrapped protectively around his sisters.

He missed the warmth and scent of the Thunderclan nursery, but as long as he had his sisters and mother, he knew he’d be fine.

“What are you doing up, kit?” Bramblekit jumped up, bushy fur fluffing up in surprise as he whirled around to face Windclan’s leader.

He tilted his head back to meet the tom’s gaze.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he squeaked, nervously.

He had heard stories of Windclan and while they didn’t seem as bad as the stories made them out to be (Cloudtail liked to exaggerate quiet a bit), they were still pretty scary.

Tallstar was almost three times the size of Bramblekit! He noted that his tail might be even longer than Longtails!

“Why can’t you sleep?” Tallstar asked, sitting down next to the young tom. His larger frame helping to block off the wind.

Bramblekit settled back down, grateful for the warmth emanating from the tom’s side.

“It’s-” he hesitated before continuing. “It’s too quiet but- it’s too- too loud?”

Tallstar nodded, “I understand.”

Bramblekit’s wide eyes met Tallstar’s own.

“You do?!”

Tallstar nodded, a fond look on his face.

“I left Windclan for a time and when I returned, I felt like a stranger in my own camp. I had grown used to the sound of trees and shrubs that the unrestrained wind felt like thunder in my ears. Yet at night, even with the wind rushing past, it felt too quiet, too still. Like something was missing.”

Bramblekit nodded, frantically, “exactly!”

“Wanna known what I did?”

Bramblekit nodded, curious despite himself.

“I focused on what I could hear.”

Bramblekit’s eyes furrowed in confusion and Tallstar huffed a laugh.

“Maybe I should explain some more,” he meowed.

“Let’s see. I would close my eyes and try to tune out the wind. I would focus instead on the sound of my clanmates breathing. I would listen to the sound of shuffling bodies as the dusk patrol settled into their nests, ready to fall asleep. I would focus on the sound of a mother singing her kits to sleep, of the elders trading some last-minute gossip before bed. I would focus on the noise I could affect. Does this make sense?”

Tallstar looked down at Bramblekit.

Slowly, Bramblekit nodded his head. “So, you’d listen to what you could hear and focus on one thing at a time?”

Tallstar nodded, a proud glint in his eyes. “Exactly! Well done, you’re a smart kit!”

Bramblekit perked up, proudly before frowning and tilting his head, “why’d you leave Windclan?”

Tallstar sighed, “that’s a story for another day.”

He stood up, “now off to bed with you, I know Gorsekit plans on showing you more of the camp tomorrow and you’ll need your energy for that.”

Bramblekit nodded, letting the leader nudge him back into the nursery despite his burning curiosity.

“Tallstar,” he meowed, as the leader turned to leave.

He looked back over his shoulder, Bramblekit giving a grateful blink.

“Thank you.”

Tallstar smiled and nodded.

“Goodnight Bramblekit.”

Bramblekit gave a wave with his tail before turning and wading his way through the fluff of fur to snuggle in beside his sisters and with a contented sigh, he fell asleep.

Outside, Tallstar leapt up the small ledge that led to his den.

Looking up, he searched amongst the stars, not quite sure what he was even searching for.

“They are so much like you Jake,” he whispered.

With that, he turned and curled up into his nest and the clan descended into the night, stars twinkling above.

Chapter Text

The frigid wind bit at the shecat’s fur, sending a shiver down her spine all the way into the tip of her tail.

Her thick fur coat not enough to shield her from the onslaught of rain.

“Why must it rain tonight?” She bit out, pushing forward to better keep pace with her mentor.

“Maybe it’s Starclan’s sign that I should wait to give you your name,” Yellowfang teased, a soft look in her eyes despite her harsh words.

Cinderpaw laughed, the sound vanishing amongst the storm.

“Maybe it’s them telling you to hurry up and retire,” she shot back, amusement glowing in her eyes.

Yellowfang barked out a laugh, the harsh sound genuine and open.

“The only time I’d retire is when I’m dead.”

"Aww, I’m sure there’s no need for that, we’d all miss you,” a brown tom meowed, dipping his head and moving to the side to let the two shecats enter the tunnels and escape the rain.

“Bah! No need for that, I’m not dying until I know the clan can keep going without me and at this rate, I’ll live forever,” Yellowfang grumbled, her dark grey fur almost blending in with the cave, so saturated it was with water.

Cinderpaw huffed a laugh, sharing an amused look with Mudfur before moving further into the cave, only wincing lightly as feeling came back into her leg. The cold did it no good.

“Are you sure you don’t have nine lives?” She threw back, leading the way towards the Moonstone.

“Yellowfang with nine lives? The clans would never survive!” Mudfur meowed, Yellowfang wacking him in the face with her tail as she followed her apprentice.

“As amusing as this all is,” Barkface meowed, the tom having been waiting for them at the stone, “I think we have a ceremony to begin.”

Mudfur sighed, “always one to ruin the fun,” he teased.

Littlecloud letting out a chuckle from beside Barkface, waving his tail in welcome to Cinderpaw and Yellowfang.

Barkface rolled his eyes good naturedly before turning to Cinderpaw.

“I think the fun is just beginning.”

Cinderpaw noted that Runningnose was missing. The tom hadn't shown up to the last meeting either.

"No Runningnose?" Yellowfang inquired, an almost hidden worry for her former apprentice glittering in her eyes.

Littlecloud shook his head, "some kits fell ill so he's staying behind to keep an eye on them."

"Are they okay?" Cinderpaw meowed worridly.

Littlecloud's eyes softened, Cinderpaw had always been caring, thinking back to when the shecat saved his life. It was why he wanted to be a medicine cat. "They will be, especially since Leaf bare is finally ending."

The gathered cats nodded in agreement. Leaf bare had been going on for way too long.

Yellowfang moved towards the centre, motioning for Cinderpaw to follow her as the three toms sat further back.

The moon slowly moved towards the centre, the light falling and causing the stone to erupt into brilliant light, a rainbow of colours bursting behind her eyelids.

Cinderpaw would never get over its beauty, it taking her by surprise each time she saw it.

“I, Yellowfang, medicine cat of Thunderclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of a medicine cat, and with your help she will serve her Clan for many moons. Cinderpaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from the rivalry between Clan and Clan and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”

Cinderpaw meet her mentor’s eyes, trust and hope reflecting in them.

A bond that could never be broken not even by death.

She thought back to her origins, her apprenticeship under Fireheart and her admiration for the ginger shecat that still echoed strongly today.

To the moment where she realised, she could never be the warrior she always dreamt of it.

To how Yellowfang gave her a second chance at life, Fireheart supporting her all the way.

To the terrible injustices the clan had forced upon the queen and her kits, her friend.

She could not be the warrior Fireheart needed, but she could be her medicine cat.

Afterall, there are no borders where Starclan is concerned.

“I do.”

Yellowfang nodded, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes.

“Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Cinderpaw,” she hesitated, before with a renewed determination, continuing strong.

“From this moment you will be known as Cinderheart. Starclan honors your kindness and your dedication to doing the right thing, and we welcome you as a full medicine cat of Thunderclan.”

“Cinderheart! Cinderheart! Cinderheart!”

As Barkface, Littlecloud, and Mudfur called her new name, Cinderheart raced to her mentor.

Yellowfang touching her nose to her forehead and Cinderheart respectfully licking her mentor’s shoulder.

“I thought you should bare her name, the warrior you truly are” Yellowfang murmured, love glowing in her expression.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and as her nose touched the still glowing rock and warmth flooded her body, she made a promise.

“I will help you Fireheart.”

“Like you helped me.”

“I promise.”

The moors were unusually warm that afternoon, the sunlight playing chase with the golden grass whilst the wind ruffled their fur gently.

Everyone was in good spirits with the weather and the satisfaction of a good hunt.

The clan had caught four rabbits that day! A sure sign that the cold season was finally coming to an end. Everyone would eat well tonight; the clan would ensure it.

Tallstar was watching the proceedings from his perch on the high stone, a good meter, and a half above the surrounding clearing.

The clan’s home had been formed in a divot in the moors, dens hollowed out and shaded by ferns and stalks alike. These dens that sat mostly empty as cats enjoyed the warmth offered by the sun.

Tallstar could spot Deadfoot and his mate Ashfoot basking together on the warmed sand.

He smiled, content for the moment.

He heard rather then saw Fireheart leap up beside him. The shecat unusually nervous and shifty.

“Fireheart,” he meowed, remaining in his relaxed position, “what can I do for you.”

The shecat didn’t seem surprised to be caught but she did hesitate before continuing her course of action.

“I was wondering about your plans for the gathering tonight.”

At this, Tallstar sat up to better speak with the ginger queen.

“I take it you don’t want to attend?” He inquired, looking at her inquisitively.

Fireheart halted before nodding. “I fear that my presence being associated with Windclan would only bring about trouble. I would like to keep the knowledge of my kits and I’s whereabouts quiet, if possible. I fear what-”

Here, she cut herself of suddenly, before ploughing forward.

“I was wondering if it would be possible to do that? To pretend that we are not here, I mean.”

Tallstar nodded slowly, consideringly.

“That was my thought process too,” he admitted.

“From what you and Deadfoot have told me, Thunderclan has changed drastically from the proud clan it once was and I agree that it would be best to keep this between us for the time being. But Fireheart,” he looked the queen in the eyes.

“Know that all secrets must come out eventually.”

Fireheart met his eyes, a weary look reflected in them.

“I know.”

With the conversation over, Tallstar stood up and summoned the clan.

“Windclan, as you are aware the gathering is tonight and I have some requests to make.

I have decided that the whereabouts of Fireheart and her kits are to be kept quiet.

No one is to alert anyone outside of Windclan to their location.

There will be arguing on this matter.

Now, to the gathering.

I will be taking Deadfoot, Ashfoot, Runningbrook, Onewhisker, Hickorynose, Eaglepaw, Whitepaw, and Barkface.

Prepare yourselves.

We leave at dusk.

This meeting is dismissed.”

Chapter Text

The night was warm, almost stifling.

Leafbare finally unclenching its claws on the world and allowing new life to form.

Unfortunately, that comes with heat and right now, Deadfoot wished he was a Riverclan cat so he could jump in the river to cool off.

Shaking his head, he pushed the thought from his mind.

‘Focus. He had to focus.’

This gathering would be the first one since Fireheart and her kits had joined Windclan and Tallstar had tasked him, Onewhisker, and Tornear with making sure that no words of their whereabouts were let slip by some young apprentice or gossiping elder.

He could only pray to Starclan that the night went smoothly.

“Windclan! To me!”

He looked up at his leaders call, racing over to stand by his side as they approached the clearing.

With everyone gathered, Tallstar led the way into the clearing, a couple greetings rising from the other clans. Looks like Windclan was the last to arrive.

With a final nod at Onewhisker and Tornear, a reminder of their duties, Deadfoot moved to take his place at the foot of four trees.

“Deadfoot! It’s good to see you,” Whitestorm greeted.

Deadfoot gave a cool nod, not wanting to seem amiss but still peeved by Thunderclan’s actions. “And you. I imagine you’re as grateful for the warm break as we are.”

Whitestorm chuckled, “that we are. I swear the queens were thinking of shredding my coat to line their nests if the cold snap continued.”

The deputies shared an amused purr, Deadfoot’s slightly forced.

He coughed to clear his throat, opening his mouth to speak only to be cut off by a cry above him. He shared a polite nod with Blackfoot and Leopardfur before taking up his position.

The gathering had begun.

Once everyone had fallen silent, Crookedstar stepped forward.

“As the eldest leader, I command the right to speak first,” he meowed.

The other leaders nodded assent.

The large tabby cleared his throat, his muzzle silver with age shook.

“Riverclan has been well, especially since the rivers have fully thawed. We also have a new warrior! Reedpaw has received his warrior name and is now Reedwhisker!”

The clans cheered for the tom, Deadfoot glancing across the crowd to make out Reedwhisker and his mother, Mistyfoot. The blue-grey queen looking proudly at her son.

“We also have two new apprentices. Featherpaw and Stormpaw are here joined by their mentors, Mistyfoot and Stonefur!”

Deadfoot could just barely make out the two new apprentices sitting by their father’s side. He made note of the achievement to relay to Fireheart later, she would appreciate news of her friend’s kits, he was sure.

“Our clan is stronger then ever with new warriors and apprentices among us and we hope for a bountiful Greenleaf for all.”

With that, the large tom dipped his head respectfully and stepped back.

Tallstar arose next to speak. “Well said, Crookedstar and congratulations,” he meowed. “Windclan has also brought good news. The thaw has brought out the rabbits and the clan is eating well. Eaglepaw has become an apprentice with Tornear as his mentor and Runningbrook has been given her warrior name!”

He paused to let the clans cheer before continuing.

“Aside from that, our clan is strong and thriving. That is all.”

He sat back down and before Tigerstar could rise to speak, Bluestar stood up.

Ignoring the glare sent to her, she continued.

“Thunderclan is as strong as ever and we have three new kits from Whitestorm and Willowpelt. The clan welcomes Sorrelkit, Rainkit and Sootkit.”

Once the cheers had died down, Bluestar’s tail lowered, and her voice dropped coldly.

“We have also exiled a traitor that lived among us.”

Deadfoot froze, his tail twitching in shook. He made eye contact with Tallstar, the older tom subtly shaking his head. This was not good.

Bluestar continued on, barely giving the clans time to react.

“Fireheart has been found guilty of treason and exiled.”

The clans immediately erupted in outrage. Despite her former life as a kittypet, Fireheart had proven herself to the clans and helped save many of them at different times. They would not take kindly to this.

When the noise continued and showed no sign of slowing down, Crookedstar stepped forward.

“ENOUGH!” The elderly tom yelled, silencing the cacophony of sound.

“Bluestar, what is the meaning of this?” He asked, turning to the blue furred shecat.

Tigerstar said nothing, merely narrowing his eyes at his former leader. Deadfoot would have called him indifferent to the news if he couldn't just barely spot the prickling of his tail amongst the shadows.

Bluestar’s eyes narrowed, “me and my clan found Fireheart and her kits guilty of conspiring against us. As is clan law, we chased out the rouges.”

Crookedstar’s eyes widened, “you chased out the kits too?”

Before Bluestar could respond, one voice rose quickly above the crowd.

“YOU MONSTER!”

Deadfoot stared in shock as the grey tom forcibly shoved off the clanmates trying to hold him down.

“YOU LIAR! FIREHEART WOULD NEVER BETRAY THUNDERCLAN!” Graystripe roared.

Bluestar hissed loudly. “You are not part of my clan anymore, I’d watch your tongue if I were you,” she spat.

Greystripe swung his head round to face his former clanmates.

“Don’t tell me you did this? Don’t tell me you agree with her?! Fireheart has given everything she has to the clan! She’d never betray you.”

Goldenflower stood to face the tom head on. “Maybe you don’t know her as well as you think you do,” she meowed coldly.

Greystripe shook his head, “and her kits? They were innocent. They had noth-”

“They were the kits of kittypets and traitors, that was enough,” Brindleface joined, meowing softly.

Graystripe’s wide amber eyes swung round to face her.

“Fireheart was your friend!” He meowed, disbelief on his face. “How could you stand by and let her be exiled?!”

“A clan leader’s word is law,” Brindleface murmured, head low.

“And what if that clan leader is wrong,” Graystripe spat, fur fluffed up and claws out. “Leaders are cats too and they also make mistakes. And exiling Fireheart was a big mistake!”

“Greystripe, enough,” Crookedstar meowed loudly.

The grey tom glanced desperately at his leader before lowing his head and collapsing to the ground, his kits trying to comfort him to no avail.

“Bluestar, please explain further,” the old leader all but demanded.

Bluestar shook her head, “I have no need to explain my reasoning further. My judgement is final.”

The clans again quickly rose up into angry caterwauling, dark grey clouds starting to cloud the sky.

“SILENCE!”

The clans fell silent, Deadfoot still staring in disbelief.

Tallstar having been the one to speak this time, looked at Bluestar with barely concealed disgust and a heavy tiredness.

“Starclan is not happy with what has happened tonight. Shadowclan, speak quickly as this gathering is over.

With a disgruntled sigh, Tigerstar strode forward.

“Shadowclan is doing well, we have three new kits, and our territory is thriving,” he meowed, sounding almost bored but Deadfoot could see the tenseness in the cat’s shoulders and hear the slight waver in his voice.

That was still his former mate and kits.

“We discovered a fox and chased it off. It ran into your territory,” he meowed, turning to look at the Riverclan leader.

With a sigh, Crookedstar thanked him, “we will send warriors to check our boarders come sunhigh.”

With a nod, Tigerstar continued.

“Our clan is recovering well, and we are stronger then ever. We have no further news. This gathering is dismissed.”

With that, the clans dispersed in silence, no one wanting to stay and chat after that disaster of a gathering.

Thunderclan being the first to leave.

Deadfoot could see Greystripe watching them go, a mixture of anger and pain brewing in his eyes.

Shadowclan was the next to go, Deadfoot glancing at Tigerstar but the leaders face was blank.

Windclan left next, Deadfoot limping ahead to keep pace with Tallstar.

“Tall-”

The black and white tom shook his head, cutting him off.

“Not here, we will talk at camp.”

Deadfoot nodded.

The rest of the journey was made in silence, even the stars seemed muted.

Deadfoot sighed for the umpteenth time, what a disaster.

Chapter Text

Fireheart didn’t want to know what had gone down at the gathering.

Didn’t want to imagine the vile Bluestar had spat about her, how her former clanmates did nothing to defend her. How her mate, ex-mate, didn’t even lift a paw to protect her and their kits.

But she heard it all anyway.

Who knew Windclan was full of gossips?

She knew the other queens tried to protect her from the more… unsavoury comments, the two having welcomed her into the nursery with open paws, but they couldn’t stop everything and if she heard, that means so did her kits.

Already, she had spotted a worried frown on Bramblekit’s face. Saw the light dim in Tawnykit’s eyes.

Her kits were smart, they knew their former home no longer wanted them.

She knew they would find out one day, the truth. She had just hoped they would be older, stronger, more ready to face the harsh realities of the world, but life doesn’t work like that.

It doesn’t care how old you are or how much you have given; it just takes and takes until the only thing that remains is the skeleton of what could have been.

Fireheart sighed, turning to better rest her head on her paws whilst still keeping one eye on her kits.

At least some good had come out of that gathering, she supposed. She knew she had the support of Graystripe, her old friend.

A small smile tugged at her jaw, she missed the tom but was proud to hear of Featherpaw and Stormpaw’s apprenticeships. They must be so big now!

She remembered carrying them into camp, watching them grow.

They had called her Aunty Fireheart. They had been her family and she would forever regret not being able to spend more time with them.

But hearing that the two were doing well was enough for now.

“That’s not fair! You cheated!”

With a sigh, Fireheart got to her paws and padded over to the kits.

Squirrelkit was a ball of fluffy red fur, angrily spitting at a passive Gorsekit.

“You’re not supposed to go until I say so!”

“Says who!?” Gorsekit bites back.

“I do! Cause I’m the leader!”

“Well, why do you get to be leader?” Gorsekit growls, the normally calm tom pinning his ears back.

“Because you were leader last time and I’m the best at it,” Squirrelkit meows proudly, unflinching gaze and head held high.

Before Gorsekit can retort, Fireheart cuts in.

“Alright, that’s enough. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

The other three kits sat nearby, Bramblekit biting back a snicker.

“I think it’s time for a nap,” Fireheart decides, not wanting to hear another fight.

“But I’m not tired-”

The rest of what her daughter wanted to say was cut off by a wail.

Morningflower rushed out of the nursery, a hint of fear in her eyes. The cries continue to reverberate around the hollow camp.

“Mama, what’s going on?” Tawnykit meowed, her green eyes wide.

Fireheart watched as Barkface sprinted across the camp, herbs bundled in his jaws, Morningflower close behind. The golden shecat slows when she sees the look on Fireheart’s face.

“Ashfoot’s kitting,” she explains, a nervous air around her.

Fireheart blinked, “isn’t it a little early?”

Morningflower nodded, “she’s not supposed to kit for another moon or so. Could you distract the kits please?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, already rushing in to assist Barkface and her sister.

Fireheart didn’t follow, turning to round up the gaggle of worried kits.

“Mama?”

“Ashfoot’s just kitting,” she soothed, “why don’t we go to the elder’s den?”

Before the kits could argue, Fireheart nudged them towards the elders, the kits sending anxious looks back towards the nursery.

“Hello again kits, I suppose you heard the good news?” Hickorynose welcomes.

“Ashfoot’s having kits so we can’t go into the nursery,” Leafkit recites.

Hickorynose nods, “isn’t it exciting? You’ll have some new denmates to play with!”

Another wail rose through the camp.

Fireheart glanced towards the nursery; she could see Deadfoot pacing outside.

Hickorynose followed her gaze, “go on then. I’ll watch the kits.”

She turned back to him, “really?”

He rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. You’ll just make the kits more anxious with you hovering here, maybe Barkface will at least be able to give you something to do.”

“I’m not anxious,” she meowed.

Hickorynose pointedly looked at the groves her pacing paws had left in the soft ground.

“And I’m a rabbit. Go on.”

Fireheart dipped her head gratefully, telling her kits to be good before racing over to stand beside Onewhisker.

“Any news?” She asked, tilting her head as another cry sounded from the nursery.

Onewhisker shook his head, the tom’s paws kneading the ground nervously. “Nothing yet.”

“Well, no news is good news, right?” Fireheart meowed, attempting to comfort the tom. He shot her a grateful smile, “I guess so.”

His smile fell when another wail came from the den.

“I’m going in,” Fireheart meowed, not wanting to stand around doing nothing.

Onewhisker nodded, Fireheart nudging his shoulder gently as she passed.

“She’ll be fine,” she soothed, “all queens go through this.”

He nodded wordlessly. Fireheart could only hope she was telling the truth.

With a deep breath, she pushed her way into the nursery, the brambles behind where the queens usually slept, most choosing to stay under the stars. This den was really only ever used for kits to young to sleep out in the open air or in bad weather.

Fireheart hurried over to the far right corner where she could see a distracted Barkface bending over Ashfoot’s still body.

“Is she okay?” She asked.

Morningflower whirled around to face her, eyes widening for a second. She met Fireheart halfway, lowering her voice to respond.

“It’s not going well,” she breathed, fear scent in the air. “She’s too early and the kits aren’t responding like they should be.”

Fireheart swallowed nervously, “they still have time.”

Morningflower nodded, opening her jaw to speak only to be cut off by Barkface.

“One of you, fetch some moss and some Raspberry leaves. There should be some in my den and if not there’s a patch near where the Rivenclan boarder meets Thunderclan. Now!”

The two queens shared a look before nodding in sync.

Morningflower raced over to Barkface’s den, Deadfoot following behind, desperate for answers.

Fireheart charged out of camp, pausing to report to Tallstar.

‘Stay strong Ashfoot,’ she prayed, ‘Starclan be with her.’

Night had fallen by the time the wails had stopped sounding.

Deadfoot perked up when Barkface emerged from the den, looking exhausted with blood staining his paws.

“Is she-” “She’s alive,” he meowed, “but two of the kits didn’t make it. I’m sorry.”

He dipped his head to the tom as Deadfoot raced past to his mate.

Tallstar padded over, resting the tip of his tail on his friend’s shoulder. “You did the best you could,” he meowed.

Fireheart padded over to stand beside Onewhisker, the tom sitting despondently by the nursery, worry for his sister in his eyes.

“This is the second time they lost kits in a litter,” he meowed.

Fireheart startled, not expecting the tom to speak.

“Eaglepaw had littermates to, but he was the only survivor. He almost didn’t make it when we were driven out by Brokenstar. Ashfoot was broken by it. I can only hope that she’s okay.”

“The whole clan is with her,” Fireheart meowed, unsure what more to say.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to speak as Deadfoot shouldered his way through the nursery walls. The skinny black tom carrying two small bodies in his jaws.

Tallstar padded over to meet him.

“Do they have names?” He requested.

He nodded, eyes brimming with unshed tears, but his voice came out steady. “Their names are Downkit and Hillkit.”

Tallstar nodded, pushing his nose gently into his deputy’s shoulder in comfort.

“And the others?”

“Crowkit.”

He nodded again before moving to stand on the high ledge.

“Let all those old enough to hunt their own prey, gather beneath High ledge for a clan meeting.”

It only took a couple seconds, most cats having already been gathered, waiting for news.

“It is with a weary heart that I announce the passing of Downkit and Hillkit. While they will never get to run our moors, they have the endless expanse of Starclan before them. We will sit vigil tonight. May Starclan light their path. May they find good hunting, swift running, and shelter when they sleep.”

“Downkit. Hillkit. Downkit. Hillkit.”

There was the calling of names, but no excitement behind it. This was a goodbye before a hello.

“But there is some light amongst this sadness. Windclan welcomes Crowkit with open hearts and we look forward to the warrior he will become. Meeting dismissed.”

Deadfoot laid the two kits tiny bodies in the centre of camp for the vigil, Fireheart moving to go pay her respects only to be halted by Morningflower.

The golden shecat guiding her over to the nursery. “She wants you to meet him,” she explains.

Onewhisker had left to pay respect to his niece and nephew.

“What about Onewhisker?” She asked.

“There are some things only a parent could understand,” Morningflower meowed.

Fireheart nodded, following the pale queen back into the nursery.

Ashfoot lay in the back still, her breaths heavy and strained, a look of deep sadness in her eyes.

A tiny grey tomkit lay at her belly, his little cries sounding far sweeter than the wails from earlier.

“He’s beautiful,” Fireheart breathed.

Ashfoot purred lightly, sadness mixed with pride in her eyes when she looked at him.

“He is.”

Morningflower licked her sister’s ears gently. “He will grow up strong,” the golden shecat meowed.

“He has the whole clan looking out for him.”

Fireheart nodded; eyes locked on the tiny tom.

“He won’t be alone,” she vowed.

Chapter Text

Cloudtail was furious, his white fur fluffed up and his bushy tail sweeping back and forth across the medicine cat den’s floor.

He shifted slightly, wincing as his injured side brushed against the rocky wall behind him before continuing to glare at the floor.

“You’re gonna burn through the ground if you keep looking like it like that?” Yellowfang meowed, “what did it ever do to you.”

Cloudtail hunched over further, glare deepening.

“Not talking, hm? Can’t blame you, I suppose.”

She shrugged, before continuing to sort the herbs she had just gathered. His jaw tightened before breaking.

“How can you be so calm?! Fireheart and her kits are out there somewhere and Bluestar’s gone off the deep end and Swiftclaw is-”

He choked up, his sides heaving from repressed anger.

Yellowfang had fallen still, one paw still lifted in the air.

For a moment, the den was quiet except for Cloudtail’s ragged breathing.

“What else am I supposed to do?” Yellowfang askes, turning to face Cloudtail. The tom is taken aback by the raw grief and fear in the shecat’s eyes.

“I swore I would never rule under another tyrant, not after Brokenstar but it feels like history is repeating itself and I’m just as useless as I was the first time around!”

While his memories were foggy, Cloudtail could remember the howling of dogs, a whirlwind of pain and then nothing.

‘Well, not exactly nothing. He could have sworn he saw Swiftclaw’s face in a starry sky… but no, it couldn’t have been. The tom was dead and Cloudtail had let him die.’

The two fell into an uneasy silence, the only sound being the distant chirping of a small songbird.

“Let nothing that was spoken here leave this den,” Yellowfang finally meows.

Cloudtail’s head shoots up, “but why!? Bluestar needs to be stopped! If we can gather enough support we-”

“Enough,” Yellowfang interrupts with a sharp hiss, “the walls have ears. Bluestar will not get away with this but we can’t do anything if we are exiled as well.”

Cloudtail nervously glanced around before continuing, “but we can’t just do nothing.”

“And we won’t. We’ll prepare and we’ll plan. We’ll gather information, allies, supplies, and when the time is right, then we’ll strike. Do you understand me?”

Her yellow eyes burnt into Cloudtail’s own, they glowed faintly like dying embers.

“Okay,” he breathed.

“Okay,” he repeated, “we prepare, we plan.”

“And then we strike,” Yellowfang finished.

Chapter Text

As strange as it was, Fireheart had started to grow accustomed to Windclan.

While the call of the forest still sung to her, she found herself enjoying the freedom that come with the open moors. She could run for ages and still never reach the end of it.

She found herself loving it!

The wind rushing in her ears, the pounding of her paws on the dirt, even the scent had started to feel like a home to her.

A twinge of guilt settled in her stomach; she shouldn’t be feeling this way. Thunderclan was her home and her family. They had accepted her into their ranks and trained her as one of their own.

Sure, she had to fight for it but in the end, she liked to think that it had been worth it.

‘Her kits had certainly been worth it’, she mused. The balls of fluff she had given birth to what feels like eons ago had been the one thing to keep her going.

‘That’s what she’s doing this for,’ she reminded herself, slowing to a stop, panting lightly from exertion.

‘I'm doing this for them. Always for them.’

“Big thoughts this morning, Fireheart?”

She twisted around to see Deadfoot limped his way towards her, a freshly caught rabbit hanging from his mouth.

She purred happily as he approached, dropping the prey gently on the ground.

“What happened to hunting?” He asked, tilting his head consideringly.

Fireheart blushed, ducking her head embarrassed. She was meant to be hunting but her thoughts had carried her much further away then she had initially thought.

She had only recently been added to the hunting patrols, her need to be doing something and her kits old enough to be without constant supervision had led her to Deadfoot and Tallstar, practically begging to be allowed to patrol.

They had been hesitant, and rightly so.

As far as the other clans were aware, Fireheart and her kits were nowhere near clan territory, and she wanted it to stay that way. At least until her kits were apprenticed.

‘Which should be soon’, she mused.

Shaking her head, she answered Deadfoot. “Sorry, I got distracted.”

He accepted it with a nod, dipping his head and turning back to camp, flicking his tail for her to follow. “Nothing to do about it now. The prey’s probably hiding in the burrows right now and we need to get back for the ceremony.”

Fireheart’s ears perked up, her paws picking up the pace.

Gorsekit’s apprentice ceremony was today, she remembered.

The small tom was ecstatic, he had been prancing around camp all morning.

Her kits and tiny Crowkit had followed him, each of them happy for him. Except, maybe Crowkit. The small dark grey tom had always been a sullen little thing.

She was proud of the tom the tiny kit had become, thinking back to when she had carried across the Thunderpath so long ago. He was a good cat and she was happy to get to know him and her Windclan friends more now. Something that had been impossible while she was in Thunderclan.

'I suppose its good to look at the bright side for some things,' she mused.

With that, Fireheart fell into step beside Deadfoot, allowing the tom to lead them back to camp, Whitepaw and Tornear joining them halfway. They had a ceremony to catch.

“I can’t believe your going to be an apprentice!” Squirrelkit meowed, her fur bushed up with excitement, Leafkit looking at her sister in amusement. Gorsekit purred loudly, his tail flicking frantically behind him.

“You’ll teach us what you learn, right?” She pestered.

Gorsekit tilted his head consideringly, “I’ll think about it,” he teased.

Squirrelkit let out a huff, pinning the toms tail to the ground with sharp claws.

The gingery brown tom whirled around, whipping his tail out of range of her wrath.

“Ow!”

Squirrelkit blinked apologetically, before the tom tackled her to the ground. With a squeal, she threw him off before jumping onto the larger cats back.

The two proceeded to playfight, drawing Tawnykit and Bramblekit into what had quickly become a fullout brawl.

Leafkit let out an amused huff at her littermates and friends antics before turning her attention to the small tomkit at her side.

“Want to join?” She asked, amber eyes watching him turn to face her.

He looked at her in silence before looking away.

“No thanks,” he said, moving out of the way as Tawnykit raced past him.

“Okay,” she responded, slightly grateful. She wasn’t really one for fighting and considering the fact that she was going to be an apprentice soon, maybe that should be a problem she should address.

‘Later,’ she thought, for now, she was content to sit beside Crowkit and wait for the ceremony.

“I don’t see why we can’t become apprentices,” Crowkit huffed, his tail thrashing.

Leafkit blinked, looking back over at the tom, “because we’re not six moons, silly!”

Crowkit glared, though his glare softened at her nervous look.

“I think we’re ready! Certainly, more ready then Gorsekit! He’s tripped over his paws more times than I’ve eaten rabbit!”

“Crowkit! That’s not very nice!” She scolded, although the tom wasn’t fully wrong.

Gorsekit was notoriously clumsy.

Fireheart said it’s because his paws were too big for his current age and that once he grows into them, he’ll be fine and one of the biggest warriors in the forest! And considering that Windclan cats were generally on the small side, that said a lot!

When she told as much to Crowkit, the tom let out another huff before conceding.

“Still, we’ll be the best warriors!” He meowed, looking at her with a confident, cheerful smile.

She smiled back, nodding in agreement.

‘He will be a brilliant warrior’, she thought. 'As would her littermates. Already, they seemed more like proper, if slightly too small, apprentices then kits now.'

She still didn’t know about herself, she was still the runt of the litter but that had never held her back before and she wouldn't let it now!

Before her thoughts could continue, Tallstar was calling for a clan meeting.

She looked around for her mother and her littermates and spotted them next to Ashfoot and Morningflower. With a gentle nudge to Crowkit to get him up, the two made their way towards the trio of queens.

“Leafkit! There you are! I was just about to send one of your littermates to grab you!” Fireheart meowed, her eyes warm.

Leafkit purred, rubbing against her mother’s shoulder and letting her groom the fur there.

“Sorry, we just got distracted,” she responded, truthfully.

Fireheart looked over her shoulder to see Crowkit before nodding.

“Well, come take a seat, the ceremony is about to start,” the ginger queen meowed, before indicating with her tail to an opening between Tawnykit and Morningflower, the pale queen staring proudly at her son.

With a shared glance, Leafkit and Crowkit made their way over quickly, Tawnykit greeting her sister with a smile and scooting over to make more room for the two.

Leafkit flashed her sister a grateful look, opening her mouth to thank her before a yowl sounded over the clan.

Quickly, she and Crowkit got into position as a hush descending over the crowd as Tallstar called for their attention.

Once the clan had been silenced, the black and white tom began.

“It is time for a new apprentice to begin his warrior training.

Our former exile cost us a lot, including Cloudrunner, a proud warrior, but I am honoured to give his son his apprentice name.”

A  dreary cloud had formed over the clan at the mention of the lost warrior and Leafkit felt Morningflower shiver beside her.

She looked at Gorsekit worriedly, but thankfully, the tom seemed okay, a determined look in his eyes.

Tallstar continued, “Gorsekit, you have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Gorsepaw. Your mentor will be Runningbrook.”

The tabby shecat stepped forward, a surprised but pleased look on her face.

“Runningbrook, although you have only recently earned your warrior’s name, you have shown exemplary courage and determination and I hope that you will pass on all you know on to Gorsepaw.”

With that, the newly named Gorsepaw raced over to touch noses with Runningbrook and Leafkit joined in with her clanmates cheers of his new name.

“In a few moons, that’ll be us!” Crowkit said, eyes shining in excitement.

Leafkit nodded, but inside she felt nothing but dread. Could she truly be a warrior the clan would be proud of? Would Windclan even make her and her littermates apprentices?

She didn’t know and didn’t know who to ask.

A nudge broke her from her thoughts for the second time that day.

“Come on,” Crowkit said, the dark grey tom already weaving his way through the surrounding cats.

“I want to greet him before Squirrelkit can!” Leafkit laughed, before bouncing to her paws to follow him.

Those thoughts could wait, she had a friend to congratulate and a sister to beat.

And then maybe Barkface would be willing to tell her more about the herbs he had used to treat her. She thought that would be a good skill to have as a warrior, especially if they didn't stay in Windclan.

Chapter Text

“Cloudtail?! Brightheart!?”

Cloudtail awoke to the frantic voice of Sandstorm ringing in his ears, he could feel Brightheart stirring awake beside him.

“Sandstorm, whas goin on?” He slurred, blinking tiredly.

Yellowfang and Cinderheart were keeping him and Brightheart in the medicine cat den for another halfmoon just to be sure they were healthy. He looked forward to returning to being a warrior although he knew that they would have a lot of adjusting to do.

His back was horribly scarred and while he could walk relatively comfortably, running and fighting caused the scars burn. Yellowfang had not been pleased when she found out what he had been doing.

“There you are, get up!”

Shaking away the thoughts, he shifted to his paws, wincing slightly as his scars pulled.

“What’s happening?” Brightheart meowed, worry in her meow.

Sandstorm’s eyes were terrified, her voice shrill.

“The forest is on fire! We need to leave! Now!”

Fireheart was nervous.

‘Any queen would be’, she reasoned. After all, its not everyday that your kits became apprentices!

She had taken her concerns to Tallstar and Deadfoot and had come to an agreement.

While Fireheart wasn’t sure what would happen with Thunderclan, if they would ever be allowed to return, ‘if she even wanted to return,’ she had maintained the fact that her kits needed to begin training, were ready to begin training.

As much as she wanted them close, she could sense their need to move. They had outgrown her nest and much like she had when she was their age, they needed to explore.

So, with an agreement for the kits to start their apprentice training in Windclan for as long as needed, Fireheart stepped back and let her kits stand in the spotlight.

She couldn't be more proud.

“Windclan! We have much to celebrate today. We have two new warriors and four new apprentices!”

Tallstar paused to let the clan cheer.

With a wave of his tail, he silenced them.

“I see no need to delay any furthur. Whitepaw, Eaglepaw, step forward.”

The two young cats padded over to the centre of the clearing, fur meticulously groomed and eyes shining. Fireheart could see Deadfoot and Ashfoot gazing proudly at their son, Crowkit staring in awe from his mother’s paws.

“I, Tallstar, leader of Windclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Whitepaw, Eaglepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend you clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” Eaglepaw answered proudly, Whitepaw echoing him.

“Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior names. Whitepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Whitetail. Starclan honors your wisdom and your kindness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Windclan.”

Tallstar placed his muzzle on her head as she licked his shoulder before backing away.

Out of the corner of her eye, Fireheart spotted Onewhisker glowing with pride. She bit back a smile at the expression on his face. 'Toms,' she thought, internally rolling her eyes.

Tallstar continued.

“Eaglepaw.”

The gray tom was nervous but maintained his stance.

“From this moment on, you will be known as Eagleflight. Starclan honors your passion and your determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Windclan.”

The two repeated the motions done by Whitetail and stepped back.

The clan erupted into cheers, Deadfoot and Ashfoot rushing over to congratulate their son.

After a moment, Tallstar called for silence.

Her kits, who at that point had been sitting at her side, sprung to their paws.

With a purr and final lick, she sends them forward, eyes glowing with pride and happiness.

She can see the nerves in Tawnykit’s walk and the false confidence in Squirrelkit’s set shoulders, but she knows they will be fine.

“We have given sanctuary to Fireheart and her kits for the last couple moons and now, they are ready to begin their warrior training. Deadfoot, Fireheart and I have agreed that it is best for them to train as Windclan warriors. Does anyone protest?”

Tallstar waited, the clan falling into a shifting silence.

Fireheart was nervous but surprised when no comment was made. She and her kits had made a strong impression on the clan, and they remembered her sacrifices for them. The clan would be honoured to have them.

‘Silence has never felt so welcoming’, Fireheart muses.

Tallstar dips his head, “very well. Bramblekit, Squirrelkit, Tawnykit, and Leafkit. You have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior names, you will be known as Bramblepaw, Squirrelpaw, Tawnypaw, and Leafpaw.

Deadfoot, you have trained many apprentices and served as my deputy for many moons, I know I can count on you to pass on your knowledge to Bramblepaw.”

He paused, to let the two greet each other, a smile on his face.

Bramblepaw turned to face her, grinning widely and Fireheart purred even louder.

She could see Squirrelkit jokingly bothered that she didn’t get the deputy as her mentor before it was overtaken by pride for her brother.

After the two had touched noses and padded to the side, Tallstar continued the ceremony.

“Squirrelpaw, your mentor will be Tornear-”

“YES!” Squirrelpaw cheered, interrupting the tom.

The clan chuckled as she ducked her hand in embarrassment, Tallstar purring in amusement before trekking on.

“Yes, Tornear. You have received excellent training from your mentor and have provided such training to Runningbrook and Tawnyfur. You have shown yourself to be patient and dedicated, and I know you will pass on all that you know to Squirrelpaw.”

Tornear lumbered forward to meet his new apprentice, not even making it halfway before Squirrelpaw almost bowed him over to touch noses.

The clan laughed quietly at her enthusiasm, happy for the young cat.

Fireheart whiskers twitched with suppressed laughter; her daughter never let anything hold her down.

She was relieved that her talk with Tallstar and Deadfoot had worked.

She knew Squirrelpaw would need both a mentor that could keep up with her and one who could calm her down when necessary and from what she had seen of the tom, and of his two former apprentices, he was an excellent choice.

Tallstar laughed lowly before moving the ceremony forward again, hopefully without further disruptions.

The newly named Tawnypaw and Leafpaw waiting nervously below the stone ledge.

“Tawnypaw, your new mentor will be Robinwing. Robinwing, you have received wonderful training from Hickorynose, and have shown yourself to be a cat of kindness and understanding, I expect you to pass on all you know to Tawnypaw.”

The two touched noses, the older shecat leading the young apprentice to sit beside her littermates.

Fireheart hoped Robinwing’s understanding would help Tawnypaw.

Out of all her kits, Tawnypaw had shown the most sense of displacement and unease. Hopefully, an understanding mentor, and the support of her family will help her adjust.

That left just Leafpaw, her youngest.

For a while, Fireheart feared her youngest wouldn’t even live to become an apprentice.

While Tawnypaw had gotten better, Leafpaw had seemed to steadily get worse, even under the attentive care of Barkface.

Her youngest daughter had spent a good deal of time in the medicine cat den and shown a fondness for learning herbs and treatments that Fireheart almost thought that if she could, she would have become a medicine cat.

She wasn’t sure how that would have worked, considering their status as Windclan cats was still temporary, but she still expected her daughter to walk down that path.

Until Crowkit was born, that is.

The young tom had been fascinated by her daughter and Leafkit had been equally fascinated in turn.

The two had connected. Bonded in ways in ways the young tom hadn't with her other kits, or even with his older brother.

With the tom’s insistence on being the best warrior, and the bond between them, Fireheart couldn’t say she was overly surprised to see Leafpaw becoming a warrior apprentice.

In the end, she just wanted her daughter to be happy, no matter what path she took.

‘Secretly, Fireheart worried that her daughter had made the wrong choice. She had never been a fighter, always a pacifist and while Fireheart knew many medicine cats who could fight brilliantly, (Yellowfang and Cinderheart), she knew that a certain kind of heart was required to be a warrior and another to be a medicine cat.

If Leafpaw chose to become a warrior out of the beginnings of love, Fireheart wondered if she’d eventually be unhappy.

Afterall, the ginger queen knew all too well what happens when love runs out.

In the end, all she could do was be there to support her every step of the way. Even if those steps turned into falls, Fireheart would nudge her daughter back to her paws and keep going until the ground was once again even.

It was all you could ever do, she had found.’

With that, she tuned back in to the ceremony.

“Leafpaw, your mentor will be Onewhisker. Onewhisker, you have received excellent training from your mentor and have shown yourself to be eager and strong. I hope that you will pass on all you know to your apprentice.”

The two touched noses and the clan erupted once more into cheers, chanting their new names.

Fireheart raising her voice alongside them.

Her kits shared excited looks and chatted, Crowkit and Gorsepaw weaving around them, and the two new warriors raised their heads proudly to the darkening sky.

Windclan had grown stronger, the dying flames fanned back to life by new breezes.

With a smile, Fireheart raced over to congratulate her kits, for as long as they were by her side, she knew she would be okay.

Windclan Allegiances Updated:

Leader: Tallstar-black and white tom

Deputy: Deadfoot-black tom twisted front paw, apprentice Bramblepaw

Medicine cat: Barkface-brown tom

Warriors:

Tornear-tabby tom, apprentice Squirrelpaw

Mudclaw-mottled dark brown tom

Onewhisker-brown tabby tom, apprentice Leafpaw

Runningbrook-light gray tabby she-cat, apprentice Gorsepaw

Robinwing-light brown shecat blue eyes, apprentice Tawnypaw

Webfoot-dark gray tabby tom

Tawnyfur-golden brown shecat

Eagleflight-gray tom

Whitetail-small white shecat

Fireheart-bright flame-coloured shecat with green eyes

Apprentices:

Gorsepaw-lean brown tabby tom

Bramblepaw-dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Squirrelpaw-dark ginger shecat with one white paw and green eyes

Tawnypaw-tortoiseshell and white shecat with green eyes

Leafpaw- pale brown tabby shecat with a white chest and paws and amber eyes

Queens:

Ashfoot-gray queen mother of Crowkit

Morningflower-tortoiseshell queen

Kits:

Crowkit-dark smoky gray tom

Elders:

Crowfur-small black tom

Oatwhisker-creamy brown tabby

Hickorynose-brown tom

Lilywhisker-light brown shecat injured hind leg and amber eyes

Chapter Text

“Alright, on the dawn patrol, I will lead with Bramblepaw, Onewhisker, Leafpaw, and Fireheart.

Hunting patrol will be led by Tornear and you can take Squirrelpaw, Whitetail, and Eagleflight.

Runningbrook, you Gorsepaw and Webfoot can take the dusk patrol and Tawnyfur, Tallstar, Robinwing and Tawnypaw can do the next hunting patrol.

Everyone got that?”

With the sounding affirmatives, Deadfoot released them with a nod before jumping of the stone ledge. As the gathered cats moved off to fulfil their respective duties, Deadfoot made his way over to his mate.

“Going on patrol already?” Ashfoot teased, brushing against his shoulder affectionately.

Deadfoot purred in response, “duty calls.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll take Crowkit with you?” She joked, “he hates that fact that he’s the only young cat stuck in camp.”

Deadfoot winced, knowing his son despised being the youngest.

Ashfoot laughs lightly, “don’t frown dear, we’ll be fine. He’ll be an apprentice in no time and will probably miss being with his beloved mother.”

Deadfoot intertwines his tail with hers, chuckling. “Where is he? I normally see him when I’m assigning patrols,” he queries, interested in where his youngest had decided to spend his morning.

Ashfoot rolls her eyes affectionately, “kit snuck into the apprentice’s den, he’s currently helping Gorsepaw feed the elders.”

Deadfoot nodded, “already into apprentice duties, they grow up so fast.”

She sighed, a happy smile on her face, “don’t they just.”

For a moment, the two just enjoyed each other's company before Deadfoot pulled back.

“Do you have to go?”

“The boarders won’t mark themselves,” he responded, nudging her shoulder.

Ashfoot flicked him gently, “if you must then. Catch me a rabbit?”

He grinned, “for you? Anything.”

With a laugh, she sent him off before going to find their son. With a smile fixed on his face with ease, he met up with the rest of the patrol.

“Where are we going today?” Leafpaw asked, the young shecat having only heard about the territory but never seeing it.

“I believe we’re doing the Riverclan boarder,” Onewhisker offered in response, checking with Deadfoot.

The tom nodded, “We’ll start at the edge of Riverclan then loop round and check the barn as well. The second patrol will do the Thunderclan boarder and the rest of the territory. Normally, we’d tour the whole territory on the first day but for obvious reasons, we will do it in segments.”

The two nodded in agreement.

“Where is Fireheart and Bramblepaw?” He asked.

Leafpaw laughed nervously, a blush tinting her ears. “Bramblepaw and Squirrelpaw got into a scuffle, so they had to fix the apprentice den from the mess they made. I think mother went to fetch him when she found out.”

A rustle behind him alerted him to said cats and he nodded his greeting, noting his apprentices ruffled fur with amusement.

Fireheart quickly groomed some scraps of fur on her kits, the two twisting away from her mothering before she relented, deeming them fit.

“Are we ready to go?” she asked, tilting her head to face him.

He nodded, getting to his paws, and flicking his tail for them to fall in behind.

“Let’s go!”

The patrol began without a hitch.

As was custom when Fireheart and her kits were on a patrol, they tried to avoid Thunderclan territory.

It was inevitable that at some point, they would come across it when they patrolled the corner connecting Thunderclan, Riverclan, and Windclan, but it couldn’t be helped.

Deadfoot just hoped that since no cat was looking for them in Windclan, they should be relatively safe.

“Alright,” he meowed, coming to a stop at where Windclan met Riverclan.

The river was much smaller here, more of a stream, but he knew that further down, it opened into a gushing swirl of water.

“What can you two smell?”

Fireheart had stepped back, letting them teach her kits. She knew they knew the territory much better than she did.

Bramblepaw responded first, “I can smell more cats? But they smell different? Marshier?”

Deadfoot nodded, “that would be Riverclan. They swim the waters here. Usually, they stick to the stronger waters upstream, but this is still their territory.”

Bramblepaw nodded.

“What about you Leafpaw?”

The young shecat hesitated, scenting the air carefully. “I can smell… Watermint? I think, Barkface showed me once.”

She looked at Deadfoot hopefully.

He paused, before nodding.

“That is a good find, normally, we leave that to the medicine cats, but it can be helpful for warriors to know the basics as well if we are ever asked to help him find herbs.”

Her eyes lit up, “can I take some to him?”

He hesitated, sharing a look with Fireheart and Onewhisker before the other tom responded.

“I don’t see why not? We’re not hunting so we don’t have to worry about carrying anything else. Just make sure not to take too much as we need it to keep growing.”

Leafpaw nodded happily before sniffing around to find the plant.

The three cats shared a look before deciding to leave it for now.

There was no harm in her curiosity at least.

“I found it! Argh!”

The trio jolted at the sound of her cry before rushing over.

The apprentice was locked in combat with a small gray tom.

Before they could do much of anything, the gray apprentice was pulled off by a cat they knew well.

Stonefur pulled Stormpaw off the young shecat, and back onto Riverclan territory.

“What do you think you were doing?!?” He asked, incredulous.

“She was on Riverclan territory!” He responded, indigently, “I was chasing her off!”

Fireheart and Bramblepaw had rushed over to check on Leafpaw, Fireheart anxiously asking if she was okay.

Stonefur narrowed his eyes, “try again.”

The apprentice frowned before sniffing the air. His eyes widened in surprise before he blushed in embarrassment and shame.

“I… when?”

“A warrior is always aware of his surroundings,” Stonefur meowed, “now I think you have something to say to them?”

The young tom blushed, “I’m sorry.”

Deadfoot nodded, “no harm done. Just be more careful next time.”

Stonefur purred in amusement, finally looking up from his apprentice to respond before freezing.

“Fir-Fireheart?”

The ginger queen paused in her fussing over her kit to look at the Riverclan tom.

“Stonefur? I-I can explain,” she meowed, nervously.

Stonefur shook his head in shock, “how? We all thought you were gone! No one knew where you were!”

His ramblings were cut off by Stormpaw yelling, “Aunty Fireheart!”

The tom charged over knocking her to the ground as he did so. The queen laughed, nuzzling the young tom.

“Its good to see you too, Stormpaw.”

“I missed you,” he meowed, brushing against her shoulder.

Although her own kits wouldn’t really remember it, Fireheart had cared for Stormpaw and Featherpaw when they were kits alongside her own. Although the two were a moon older than her own kits, they had loved to play and chat excitedly about the games they would play together when they were older.

They had spent much of their early life with her before Graystripe took them to Riverclan. She had missed them dearly.

Bramblepaw and Leafpaw made wary introductions, the three curious as all young cats are.

“Well,” Stonefur meowed, carefully eyeing the small group. “This changes things.”

That it does, Deadfoot thought.

“How long have you been with Windclan?” He asked.

Fireheart looked at Deadfoot for permission, but he just nodded.

She glanced around at her kits before answering. “Since we were exiled. I was going to Barley’s but got caught in the rain. Windclan found us the next morning and offered us sanctuary.”

Stonefur nodded, “I suppose you’ve been keeping this quiet for a reason?”

Fireheart didn’t answer but her silence clearly said enough as Stonefur just nodded.

“They won’t find out from us.”

She blinked at him gratefully, shoulders loosening in relief.

Stonefur’s expression became more serious, his tone darkening. “But there is something you should know. I presume you know about the fire by now?”

“The fire?” Fireheart questioned.

His eyes widened, “you don’t know?”

Deadfoot shook his head, “they had their apprentice ceremony last night, and we had already checked the boarders with no sign of a fire earlier. We are the first patrol out and we didn’t pass Thunderclan territory to see it, but I imagine the second patrol will already be alerting Tallstar.”

Stonefur nodded assent.

“The fire raced through their camp, so they are currently taking shelter in Riverclan.”

Fireheart tensed, “is-is everyone alright?”

Stonefur hesitated, “from what I heard, they lost one elder, I don’t know her name and a kit, Snow? Frost? I know that one of their medicine cats is missing as well. I’m sorry, but I don’t know any more then that.”

Fireheart blinked back tears, Snowkit… The poor tom.

He wouldn’t have been able to hear anyone calling for him and Yellowfang or Cinderheart... Her friends...

She should have been there...

“There wasn’t anything you could have done,” Onewhisker murmured.

Fireheart realised she had said that out loud.

Deadfoot nodded, “it’s a tragedy but you being there likely wouldn’t have changed anything except created more targets. They are safe with the stars now.”

Stonefur looked at her with pity in his gaze, “I can’t say much more but the rest are well and plan to head back into Thunderclan territory today.”

Fireheart nodded, closing her eyes tiredly.

“Thank you for telling us,” she meowed, grieve thickening her meow.

The gray tom nodded, “we need to get going. Stay safe Fireheart.”

He nodded politely at the rest of the Windclan patrol, eyes lingering softly on the apprentices before calling for Stormpaw.

The young apprentice said goodbye to Bramblepaw and Leafpaw, nudging Fireheart gently before following his mentor into the reeds.

“Let’s get back to camp,” Deadfoot meowed, sensing that Fireheart was not capable of continuing the patrol.

“I will send out a new patrol later but for now, we need to talk to Tallstar.”

Fireheart nodded, before leading the way home. Leafpaw and Bramblepaw sticking close to their mother’s side.

With a worried look at Onewhisker, the two toms followed her.

No one noticed a set of dark eyes watching them from across the waters.

She breathed heavily, choking on the scent of smoke as it burned through her lungs.

Exhaustion plagued her body, causing her paws to drag tiredly as she ran through the dying forest.

But she couldn’t stop. Not now, not with the howling pack at her paws.

She knew her clan, the cats who had taken her in, were heading towards the Riverclan boarder but the dogs had surprised them.

Despite all their attempts, no one had been able to get rid of the dog pack. The dogs ever persistent in their attempts to kill them all.

Already, they had almost lost an apprentice, the poor tom only still alive because he was smart enough to climb a tree to hide. They needed to get rid of this pack now.

She had sent Cinderheart with the clan, her apprentice was ready to take over.

While she held no love for her leader and would prefer to claw several cats’ ears for what they did to Fireheart and her kits, there were still innocents there. Cats who wanted change, wanted to be better.

Yellowfang wasn’t one to hold cats back from change.

She knew Shadowclan cats who had gone through the dark forest and come out the other end better for it.

She knew they would survive this, with or without her.

With the plans she and Cloudtail had been forming, being joined by Sandstorm, Cinderheart, Brightheart and even Longtail, that tom had surprised even her when he showed up to their gathering, she knew that Bluestar’s time as leader was limited.

She had been grateful, truly grateful, when the shecat gave her a home in Thunderclan.

She loved Thunderclan.

But she refused to stand by another tyrant who let innocents be hurt.

She knew minds could rot and fog over and very rarely did a cat come back from that.

This was all for the best.

It was with this thought in mind, that Yellowfang led the plunge.

The pack tumbling in after her into the gorge as the water crashed over them.

It was in that water, weighed down but suddenly weightless, that Yellowfang felt truly free. Like all her sins had been washed away by the raging waves around her.

‘Stay strong, Fireheart. The clans still need their fire. I will watch over you from the stars, my daughter. Stay strong.’

With that, she let go, closing her eyes.

She had given the last she had to the clan, the cats she loved dearly. The forest was safer now.

She grieved the time she had lost but when the stars opened to accept her, when two small kits twined themselves around her legs, she could finally say that she was complete.

She would watch over her family from the stars, always.

‘Stay strong, my fires.’

Chapter Text

“How did this happen!?” He hissed, claws leaving grooves in the dirt.

Tigerstar said nothing, merely snarling at the black cat.

“Dogs!? They killed off the entire pack of dogs!? Do you know what this has cost us?!” Scourge hissed. “Are you a fool!?”

Tigerstar snapped, whipping around to claw at the other cat’s muzzle. Scourge merely jumped back to avoid him.

“I’d watch how you were speaking, kittypet,” he growled.

Scourge narrowed his eyes, “I’m not the one who should be watching. I’ve lent you my cats so you can take control of the clans, but it has been moons are we’ve not seen any progress. Are we just to assume that you’re actually doing what we agreed upon?”

Tigerstar growled lowly, “there have been some unforeseen complications, but I can assure you that will not last for long.”

Scourge stared at him, an eerie calm falling over the tom, “it better not, or you’ll have another clan beckoning for your blood.”

“Get to work, Tiger’star’,” the tom mocked, before turning and with a flick of his tail to alert his cats, left.

Tigerstar remained seated, internally seething.

‘These street cats were getting too big for their nests, sooner or later, he’d need to get rid of them but for now, they served a purpose. They were fodder for Shadowclans ranks extra strength and extra paws. As soon as he either struck an agreement with the other clans or took them over, they were dead.’

“Boulder, Blackfoot, head back to camp. I have things to think on.”

“Do you think we’ll be chosen for the gathering?” Gorsepaw meowed, excitedly, his tail flicking behind him.

Eagleflight wacked the tom over the head gently after his tail hit him in the face for the third time, “probably, I mean, it’ll be our first gathering as warriors and your first as an apprentice.”

“I wish we could go,” Squirrelpaw sulked, dragging a paw through the dirt grumpily.

Gorsepaw winced, “I’m sure you’ll be able to go eventually.”

Eagleflight nodded, “there’s plenty of gatherings to attend.”

She glared at the ground, “but not my first as an apprentice.”

The two toms shared a look but said nothing.

With a sigh, Squirrelpaw pushed the thoughts away and turned back to them with a fierce look in her eyes, “you’ll at least tell me everything, right?”

The two nodded hurriedly, “of course,” Eagleflight meowed. Gorsepaw echoed him, “if you and the others are still awake when we get back, I’ll tell you everything right away.”

Squirrelpaw tilted her her consideringly before nodding. That would have to do. She went to respond but was cut off by a yowl.

With a rushed nod at the two toms, she hurried over to sit beside her mother and siblings.

“Alright, as everyone knows, tonight is the gathering. The same rules apply as last time, no mentions of Fireheart or her kits, agreed?”

“Agreed!” The gathered cats all chorused back.

Tallstar nodded, “good. Tonights gathering, I’ll be taking Whitetail, Eagleflight, Runningbrook, Gorsepaw, Oatwhisker, Morningflower, and Tawnyfur. We will leave at Sundown so be prepared. This meeting is dismissed.”

As the clan dispersed, Squirrelpaw turned to her littermates who all had identical, if not expected, faces of disappointment.

Fireheart noticed and her eyes showed hurt that was quickly hidden. “It’s alright. There are plenty of gathering to go around,” she soothed.

Tawnypaw frowned, “but that might be ages away!”

Fireheart winced but nodded, “I know, but its for our own safety.”

Squirrelpaw frowned, they were all older now and knew more about why they had left Thunderclan but they didn’t know everything. She had tried asking around, but no one was willing to answer her questions. Whenever she asked mother, her eyes just filled with pain before she said something about telling her when she was older and hurrying away.

Well, she was older now.

“Tell us,” she meowed firmly, trying not to look away from her mothers gaze, "is it the dogs still?."

Fireheart gazed around at her kits gathered around her, a hint of desperation in her eyes that quickly faded to weary acceptance.

“I suppose you are all old enough to know,” she sighed.

Squirrelpaw and her littermates shared wary and surprised looks before returning their gaze to their mother.

“But not right now,” Fireheart meowed.

“What!? But-”

“No buts,” Fireheart meowed firmly. “Once the gathering party has left, I will explain but for now, I need to talk to Deadfoot, okay?”

With a final shared look, the siblings agreed.

As their mother padded away, Squirrelpaw whispered lowly to the group, “what are they hiding from us?”

Leafpaw looked nervous, shuffling her paws. “I almost don’t want to know,” the small shecat meowed.

Tawnypaw mirrored her uncertain look, “I think we’ll find out eventually and I’d rather hear it from mother,” she decided, eventually.

Bramblepaw nodded in agreement, “for now, I’m going to get something to eat. Tornear caught a huge rabbit today and I want to get some!”

With that, the group split up for what might be their last peaceful night, all unknowing of how everything they thought they knew would change.

Fireheart had felt fear before.

When she had fought in her first battle, when she had first seen a cat die, when she had seen the one cat she had ever loved leave but this?

This could break her.

It could break them.

But they had the right to know, they needed to know.

So, with a heavy heart, Fireheart lead her kits towards a secluded area of the moor, the sun just below the horizon.

For a moment, they sat in silence.

“Mother?” Tawnypaw finally asked, an unspoken question in her meow.

Letting out a breath, Fireheart spoke. “What do you four know about your father?”

The four shared an uncertain look before Bramblepaw piped up. “He was a Thunderclan cat? And he did something bad, so he had to go away?”

Fireheart nodded, eyes shuting wearily, “Your father’s name was-is Tigerstar.”

“Our father’s a clan leader!?” Squirrelpaw meowed in awe.

Wide eyes meet her own desolate green.

Fireheart continued, afraid that if she stopped, she wouldn’t be able to bring herself to finish.

“Your father was a brilliant warrior, strong, fierce, charismatic. Everyone in Thunderclan looked up to him. Everyone thought that he would one day be deputy. But that day couldn’t come soon enough.”

Her kits were silent as she spoke, and it pained her to see the hero worship in their eyes die slowly but surely.

“One day, the clan got into a battle with Riverclan, and Tigerstar took this as an opportunity to kill Thunderclan’s current deputy, Redtail, with the hopes that he would be promoted in his place.”

“No!” "That can't be!" 

“Your lying!” Tawnypaw cried, backing away shaking her head.

Bramblepaw was frozen, a horrified look in his face.

Squirrelpaw looked angry, her fur bristling and small kitten claws digging into the ground.

Leafpaw looked terrified.

Fireheart continued; her words soft like it was just another fairy-tale, a lullaby she would sing to her kits on a rainy night when sleep wouldn’t come.

They wouldn’t sleep after this.

“He wasn’t made deputy, Lionheart was, and he was angry.”

Leafpaw interrupted her, eyes wide in distress, “did he kill Lionheart too?”

“No, Lionheart was killed by rogues, and it was then Tigerstar got what he wanted but his desire for leadership wouldn’t be satiated until he was at that top. So, he gathered his rogues and lead them into camp as a distraction to kill Bluestar.”

At this point, Fireheart had tears streaming down her face, her voice tight with pain as her kits wailed at her paws.

“He tried to kill her, but I stopped him, and he was exiled for his crimes. Eventually, he took over Shadowclan. Bluestar was deeply wounded by his actions and her mind was lost to us. We were exiled and found sanctuary in Windclan. I-”

Fireheart had to stop, her voice breaking.

Squirrelpaw and Bramblepaw were huddled together, a distant look in her sons’ eyes.

Leafpaw was pressed against her side, brown tangling with orange.

Tawnypaw, Tawnypaw looked broken.

“Your-your lying, you have to be! You told us he was a proud warrior! That we left the clan to be safe from the dogs! You’re a liar!”

“Tawnypaw, I-” Fireheart meowed, almost desperately, scrambling to her paws to comfort her daughter.

“NO!” Tawnypaw cried, eyes blown wide, “YOU’RE A LIAR!”

The tortoiseshell shecat swung round and raced back to camp.

Fireheart made to follow her but tripped over the apprentice glued to her side.

With a heavy heart, Fireheart watched as her daughter fled.

“Is-is it really true? Is our father a murderer?” Bramblepaw asked, nervous, amber eyes, so much like his fathers looked at her.

She swallowed, “it-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

She whimpered, with three of her kits huddled around her as rain started around her.

“I, I’m going back to camp,” Bramblepaw meowed, voice distant, cut off.

Squirrelpaw followed, a hurt, numb look on her face.

“Mama?” Leafpaw meowed, looking up at her with worry in her kind, amber eyes.

“Go back to camp sweetie, get out of the rain.”

“But what about you?” She whispered; eyes locked on her own.

Fireheart attempted to smile, “I just need to think for a while.”

With a hesitant nod, Leafpaw scrambled after her siblings.

Fireheart heaved out a sigh, finally letting the rest of the tears slide down her face and drip onto the ground, falling in sync with the rain. Her ginger fur stained dark by the water, like a dying flame.

“Oh Starclan,” she whispered, eyes locked on the sky, blurred by rain, “what do I do?”

Chapter Text

Deadfoot was nervous.

He hid it well, but Gorsepaw could recognise that anxious tail twitch anywhere. He shared a den with Eagleflight for most of his life and the tom was a carbon copy of his father, just with more of his mother’s energy.

What the tom was nervous about, Gorsepaw couldn’t tell.

Deadfoot was a cat of few words, Morningflower said that wise cats save their words for when they are most needed and spend more time listening.

Gorsepaw didn’t know what to make of that, but he knew Deadfoot was a wise cat, Tallstar wouldn’t have chosen him for deputy if he wasn’t. And wise cats only feared what was worth fearing.

What that said for the fate of Windclan, he couldn’t tell you, but it was enough to make the fur on the back of his neck prickle.

He wondered briefly if it had something to do with the nervous faces of the four new apprentices back at home but dismissed the thought for now.

Despite that, he was excited!

This would be his first gathering ever and while Eagleflight and Whitetail had told him about each one they had went to, there was something special about attending one yourself.

Speaking of the two, the newly made warriors were exchanging energetic whispers behind him, trading jokes back and forth. While this was his first gathering as an apprentice, it was their first as warriors and the two had been trading exhilarated looks all evening!

Before he could slow to join in the conversation, Tallstar pulled up short, the black and white tom scenting the air.

“Riverclan and Shadowclan are here before us,” he murmured, before picking up the pace.

All muttering were silenced as Windclan strode into Four Trees.

Gorsepaw’s breath hitched in awe, there were so many cats! Different colours and scents swam before him in a blur of light, a thousand eyes locking onto the group as they entered.

While Gorsepaw was generally a quiet tom, you wouldn’t call him anxious, but with all the attention on him, he felt himself slip backwards to hide behind Eagleflight and Whitetail.

“All good there, Gorsepaw?” Eagleflight quired, a bright smile on his face.

“I’m fine, its just, theres a lot of cats…”

"But only three of the four clans are here!” Eagleflight laughed, moving to poke him, before Whitetail smacked him in the face with her tail, the tom spitting out the fluffy white fur in disgust.

Whitetail blinked at him kindly, ignoring Eagleflights complaining, “don’t listen to him Gorsepaw. You should have seen him on his first gathering! He was practically stuck to my side the whole night!”

Gorsepaw lets out an amused purr, some of the tension fading from his shoulders.

“Come on then,” Eagleflight meowed, bouncing ahead, seemingly recovered, “I’ll introduce you to some cats!”

Whitetail waved them forward, “I promised to talk with Tawnyfur, so I’ll meet up with you later.”

With that, the duo made their way into the centre of the clearing, Eagleflight clearly looking for someone. Gorsepaw's head was constantly swinging back and forth, there was just so much to see.

“Ah, there he is! Hey, Reedwhisker! Get over here!” Gorsepaw winced at the tom’s loud call but quickly moved his attention to the slender black tom making his way over.

The tom, presumably Reedwhisker, rolls his eyes fondly. “Hello Eaglepaw or is it something different now?”

Eagleflight shoves him lightly, “just because you got your warrior name a moon before me doesn’t make you better! And its Eagleflight!”

Reedwhisker laughs, dodging the poke, “good name! And who’s this?”

“Reedwhisker, meet Gorsepaw, Gorsepaw, this is Reedwhisker of Riverclan.” Reedwhisker eyed the small tom curiously, Gorsepaw fighting the urge to cower under his serious gaze.

“It's nice to meet you, Gorsepaw. You Morningflower’s kit?”

Gorsepaw tilted his head, “yeah, do you know her?”

Reedwhisker’s ear twitched, “not me so much but my mother, Mistyfoot chatted with her quite a bit. How’s your first gathering going? I assume this is your first?”

The young tom nodded, opening his jaw to respond before a yowl sounded over the clearing.

Thunderclan had arrived.

Gorsepaw fell into place beside the two toms as more cats flooded the clearing. His eyes widening as a huge white tom approached them.

“Whitestorm,” Reedwhisker greeted cordially, a pleasant smile on his face.

Whitestorm shot him a look before responding, “Reedwhisker, how fares Riverclan?”

“Riverclan is doing well, plenty of fish this Greenleaf,” the black tom meowed, a strange glint in his eye.

Whitestorm nodded politely, “and who might these be?” The large tom’s blue eyes roamed over them, a slight interest in them.

“These are Eagleflight and Gorsepaw of Windclan,” Reedwhisker introduced. “We were just discussing Gorsepaw here's first gathering.”

Whitestorm nodded, “is that so, well, I won’t keep you then. Just thought I’d stop by.”

With that, the large tom ambled off, Reedwhisker not taking his eyes off him until his white fur was swallowed by the crowd.

“Who was that?” Gorsepaw meowed, a nervous hitch in his voice.

“That was Whitestorm, Thunderclan’s deputy,” Eagleflight responded this time, looking curiously between his Riverclan friend and the Thunderclan deputy. “I don’t know why he’d speak to us though,” he meowed, looking pointedly at the black tom beside him.

Reedwhisker’s ears twitched uncomfortably, “you’ll find out soon enough,” he meowed, as a cry sounded over Four Trees.

The four leaders were gathered on the Great Rock, Gorsepaw switching his attention between the four as a dark tabby padded forward.

“Shadowclan would like to speak first,” the tom meowed, disinterest in his eyes as they roamed the gathered cats below.

Eagleflight leant down to whisper to him, “that’s Tigerstar. He used to be Thunderclan's deputy but was exiled. No one really knows how or why he ended up as Shadowclan leader, but he’s got claws like a badger, so you don’t want to cross him.”

Gorsepaw shuddered at the imagery as the other leaders nodded ascent.

“We have two new apprentices, Cedarpaw and Rowanpaw who are here with their mentors, Russetfur and Jaggardtooth. The hunting has been well, and the scent of dog has seemingly left. Shadowclan is thriving. That is all.”

As the cheers of new names fell silent, Tallstar rose to speak next.

Gorsepaw twitched with barely constrained nerves.

“We also have a new apprentice! Gorsepaw is here with his mentor Runningbrook.”

He ducked his head in embarrassment as the clans called his new name, Eagleflight shoving him lightly, a proud smile on his face.

“We also have two new warriors, Eagleflight and Whitetail have earned their names and we welcome them as full warriors of Windclan!”

Gorsepaw rose his voice to cheer for his clanmates, looking with awe at how Eagleflight seemed to swell with pride, his head held high. He spotted Whitetail a couple rows forward. The small shecat smiling embarrassedly, but proud, nonetheless.

Tallstar continued, “hunting has been excellent, and the rabbits run free. We had some run ins with some rats from the barn but have remained steadfast. We have no further news.”

Before Bluestar could rise to take her turn, Crookedstar rose and padded forward. Bluestar shot him a dirty look but didn’t interfere, her tail merely twitching with impatience.

“Riverclan has fared well this last moon, the river is full, and the clan is thriving. However, we were recently burdened with a large group of cats. We lent aid to Thunderclan during the fire and seek payment.”

Caterwauls rose from the crowd from various Thunderclan cats.

Bluestar padded forward, her voice cold and stilted. “Thunderclan is grateful for your aid but as you said, the river is teeming with fish and there is nothing we can offer you.”

Crookedstar narrowed his eyes but nodded, “then its just a reminder moving forward,” he meowed smoothly.

Bluestar glared at the tom before taking the center place.

“Like Crookedstar mentioned, Thunderclan recently suffered from a fire but already, new life has begun to grow. Fernpaw and Ashpaw are here as apprentices with their mentors, Darkstripe, and Dustpelt.”

The cheering was lesser, as tension rose between the Riverclan and Thunderclan cats. Gorsepaw felt bad for the two young cats, he could see the sad, worried look on their faces at the lack of response.

Bluestar continued shouldering on, “we have also been brought word of the location of our traitors.”

She swung round to face Tallstar, a furious, almost insane look on her face.

“Pray tell us Tallstar, why you are sheltering the traitors, Fireheart and her kits?”

Chapter Text

It was supposed to be Greenleaf, but she was still so cold.

A never-ending chill had permanently etched itself into her body, crawling along her spine and rattling her ribs like leaves in the wind. Her body shivered constantly, even under the sun, a subtle tremble to her paws and an unsteady gait.

She was so cold.

She slept in a tightly coiled ball, trying to conserve heat. It was when she was curled in her den asleep, that she felt even some semblance of warmth, but it always vanished when she woke. And she woke often.

The stars were still shining, the moon barely beginning its decent, but Bluestar found herself awake again, eyes staring blankly at her den wall. The den seemed too large for one cat, echoes bouncing off the stone.

The fur on her hackles was raised and her breath kept catching as shadows darted across the walls, tired eyes glazed and aching but unable to shut.

Each new shadow sent a jolt of adrenaline through her body but when nothing ended up happening, she slumped back down into her disheveled nest, exhausted but still unable to sleep.

‘Fireheart’, she mused, ‘how amusing that as she banished the one she named fire, her own body grew cold. Cold like death.’

Sometimes, her clanmates shivered when she walked past, whether from fear or the ever-present chill, she didn’t know but somehow, Fireheart had stolen the warmth from her like she had taken everything else. She felt her lip curl but it quickly fell flat as another shiver wracked her body.

After what felt like moons, Bluestar felt herself start to slip, eyes closing even as fear coursed through her body. The last time she had slept peacefully…. Hadn’t ended well. But sleep came for everyone eventually and with a hasty exhale, she fell into a tentative rest.

Only to waken instantly.

Her eyes shot open in shock as wide blue eyes meet her own identical blue.

“Mosskit,” she all but breathed, tears gathering in her eyes as her eyes alit on her youngest daughter.

She rushed forward to cradle her lost kit, but Mosskit backed away hastily.

It felt like icy water had been doused over her head as she watched her youngest kit stepped away from her.

“Mosskit?”

“Why do you hate us?” Her daughter meowed, ignoring her unspoken question. Bluestar froze in surprise.

“Why did you kill me?”

Bluestar scrambled to think of something to say, something to comfort her baby. “I-no-I didn’t! You were going to be safe-I.”

“Why did you take my warmth?”

Bluestar shuddered as her kit stalked toward her, a tiny predator.

“Why did you take the clans warmth?”

“Warmth? I-no-I.” It wasn’t making sense; her mind was scrambled.

“Why did you exile Fireheart?” Her daughter demanded.

Bluestar tensed, of course it was Fireheart. It all came back to Fireheart. A hiss built in her throat, ears pinned tightly back, if that traitor had somehow hurt her kit, she would give every bone in her body to see her dead.

Mosskit growled back and Bluestar's hiss stuttered.

“Stop this!” She yelled, tiny voice demanding to be heard. “She didn’t do anything wrong! Why did you do this? Why did you hurt her? She looked up to you like you were her mother! Why-”

Bluestar snapped, “BECAUSE SHES NOT YOU!”

Silence fell over the starry clearing.

Bluestar gasped pathetically before whispering, “because she’s not you. Every time I see her, I see you. You and Stonefur and Mistyfoot."

"When she was my apprentice, I loved her because she reminded me of you. But she wasn’t you. She couldn’t be you. You wouldn’t betray me like this. She was supposed to be you!"

Her voice grew more frantic, "I was supposed to teach you! I was supposed to give you your warrior’s name! I was supposed to watch you have kits of your own! But all I can see is her!"

"I lost everything! I gave everything for my clan! But she just takes and takes and takes."

"She births the kits of the cat who tried to kill us. She choses them over her clan! I gave everything but somehow, she still ends up happier! How!?”

At the end, she is crying, huddled in a broken ball on the ground. She feels rather then sees her daughter approach.

Exhausted, she looks up at her tiny daughter who died too soon, too cold.

“Why was I punished for loving a cat from another clan, but she can walk away from a murderer like it’s nothing? Why do I hurt everyday for doing what was best for my clan, but she can treat us like the dirt beneath her paws and betray us time and time again, but the clan still welcomes her back each time?"

"Why is it that she gets to be happy, and I don’t…”

Mosskit’s eyes are sad, a wisdom in them that was supposed to come with age and when she speaks, she sounds older than her years.

“Why do you see yourself in her?”

Bluestar sighs, closing her eyes tiredly, “because she made the choice I should have made.”

Mosskit nudges her gently, curling into her shoulder. Bluestar sighs again as a small warmth spread through her sides.

“I miss you,” she meows.

“I’m always with you,” her daughter replies.

For a moment, all is peaceful, but peace never lasts.

“What are you going to do now?” Her daughter asks.

Bluestar opens her eyes, tired but a light burning in them, “Fireheart still betrayed our clan and traitors must be treated accordingly.”

Mosskit scrambles away from her, eyes wide. “You-you know you made a mistake though, right? You shouldn’t have done what you did.”

Bluestar growls, “I regret hurting you, I regret a lot of things, but Fireheart and her kits are a danger to our clan. Surely you must see that!?”

Mosskit flinches, “you can’t be serious!? She was innocent! Her kits are innocent!”

“Her kits are kittypets and murderers!”

Mosskit yowls in rage, “so are you! It was you that got me killed, not foxes-not the snow-not Oakheart-not Fireheart-but you-”

Bluestar screeches in anger and lunges at the starry form but goes right through it and falls and continues falling.

She’s still falling through a black starless void when her senses kick back in and she freezes. What has she done?

She wakes with a start, guilt pooling in her belly like a bad mouse.

That guilt is quickly swallowed by a roaring anger, an anger that brings a burning warmth back into her body, almost too hot for comfort but she has been cold for too long.

Fireheart may not have killed her kit, but she still betrayed the clan. Her kits are still the children of a murderer and bad blood breed’s more bad blood.

Her daughter was dead, and the dead don’t speak.

She shakes her head angrily, there is no Starclan to answer to or to hear her cries. They didn’t heed her daughters, so she won’t heed their meaningless dreams.

Fireheart will pay for her crimes as justice must be served.

A scrambling outside of her den snaps her out of her thoughts.

Her eyes narrow at the dark grey tabby in front of her as he bows his head and waits for permission to speak.

When she grants in, the tom lifts his head, a smirk on his lips and a dark look in his eyes.

“I have news that I think you’ll want to hear. Our little venture into Riverclan camp gave us much to deal with but now that we are settled, I thought I would bring it to your attention.”

For a moment, she thinks she hears the wailing of her daughter ringing in her head but shakes the noise away.

She breathes, “speak freely then Darkstripe.”

Chapter Text

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself Tallstar?”

There were only a few times in memory where Tallstar had found himself speechless, and this was unfortunately one of them.

The gathering had fallen silent, everyone watching with bated breaths as Tallstar fumbled for the right words to say. “How did you know?” He settled on, wincing internally at the weak delivery.

Bluestar smirked, a cold mocking smile. “Thunderclan always knows.”

Buying time, Tallstar glanced fervently around the clearing, eyes alighting on a dark grey tabby tom who bore a smug smile. Somehow, Tallstar knew he was responsible.

While he knew, that Darkstripe was a coward, his warriors having reported as such to him many times due to the tom’s constant mistreatment of their borders, this was on a whole new level.

He turned around suddenly, startling Bluestar back. A ferocious rage flooding his body as she grappled for balance on the smooth stone.

When he responded, his voice was deep and dark with anger, power emanating from every word.

“And why does it matter? Fireheart and her kits are no longer part of Thunderclan and therefore, their business is not yours. We found them and offered them sanctuary and that is all we are required to tell you.”

Bluestar’s claws unsheathed, scratching the stone in her anger. “They are traitors and kittypets! Their crimes against Thunderclan must be paid for!”

“What crimes!? What haven’t they already paid enough for!?”

"Is Thunderclan really so cowardly as to accuse innocent kits of being criminals?" Onewhisker yowled from the clearing, other voices rising up in agreement.

Bluestar screeched instead of responding, throwing herself haphazardly at the Windclan leader in a fit of rage.

Tallstar, not expecting the attack, leapt back but wasn’t able to avoid the full attack and the blue-furred leaders claws burned as they scored down his muzzle.

Deadfoot was already halfway up the Great Rock when Crookedstar’s yowl sounded over the clearing. “ENOUGH! The gathering is a time of peace! Not war and bloodshed. Bluestar, stand down.”

Bluestar hissed lowly but sheathed her claws and returned to her post.

Tallstar turned to face Deadfoot, the tom staring at him with a concerned look on his face. Tallstar shook his head and Deadfoot reluctantly jumped back down to the base of the stone.

"I have had enough of this. Bluestar, as Tallstar has already mentioned, Fireheart and her kits are no longer part of Thunderclan therefore, free to do as they please. Tallstar, keep your warriors in check, this is a gathering not a warzone. If that is all everyone has to say, I claim this gathering is over."

Bluestar smirked, voice cold, “the skies are still clear, Thunderclan will have their justice.” Tallstar bit back a hiss as she leapt down the rock, gathering her clan with a swish of her tail and leaving the Four Trees with just two clans left.

From the throng of Thunderclan cats leaving, Tallstar could spot a few angry faces, particularly a fluffy white tom and a pale ginger shecat. Angry at what, he didn’t know.

He stiffened as he felt a presence at his side and turned to see Crookedstar staring at Bluestar’s retreated form. His green eyes swirled with an angry storm, but he digressed.

The old tabby leader turned to face the him. “Thunderclan speaks out of turn but the night is still young. Keep an eye on your clanmates. I sense a storm coming." In what he felt was quickly becoming a theme of the night, the tabby turned and summoned his clan before he could respond. "Riverclan, lets go."

While Tallstar prepared to make to jump from the rock, Crookedstar already leaving, a call brought him to a halt.

He spotted Deadfoot and Barkface’s concerned looks from down below, Barkface no doubt wanting to treat his injuries quickly.

He blinked to show he was alright before turning to acknowledge the Shadowclan leader.

“Tigerstar,” he meowed, body stiff and voice just barely cordial.

The brown tabby had an unreadable look in his eyes, but his claws were tensed into the earth, a clear sign of his distress.

“Tallstar,” he meowed, dipping his head politely. Tallstar briefly wondered where this was going but the tom had already answered his unspoken question.

“Are-are Fireheart and the kits alright?”

Tallstar stared at him consideringly, “they will be.”

Tigerstar nodded, “I’d like to speak to them.”

Tallstar’s eyes narrowed, “and if they don’t want to speak to you?”

Tigerstar winced but charged forward, shoulders set in determination. “She should at least decide that for herself,” he responded. “Meet me here tomorrow night, you can bring me her answer.”

Before Tallstar could throw back a respond, the dark tabby had already turned and left, his clanmates gathering around him like a shawl of darkness as they left the clearing.

For a moment, Tallstar sat, staring at the clear sky and wondering what Starclan had been thinking.

Another call from Barkface and he sighed, getting to his paws and starting to make his decent.

For all he didn’t like Tigerstar, he thought, wincing from a slightly harder landing then he was expected, he made a good point. Fireheart would want to decide for herself and as much as he wanted to protect them from the ruthless tom, he knew that she wouldn’t appreciate her actions being dictated by someone else.

He wondered, if it felt to much like what had gone down in Thunderclan, the ginger queen still reluctant to mention some of the happenings that occurred in her former home.

Regardless, he knew with a weary determination, that she needed to know.

Starclan help them all.

Chapter Text

Gorsepaw looked scared, the normally stoic tom practically trembling as he padded over to the apprentice’s nests.

Squirrelpaw knew she should be asleep by now, her littermates already dreaming if Tawnypaw’s twitching paws indicated, but she couldn’t.

Something told her that this gathering was going to be a big one and she wanted to be the first to hear of any news from the other clans, before Bramblepaw at least! She was determined to beat her brother!

What she wasn’t expected was for the big apprentice to look so stressed.

“What happened?” she asked, sitting up. Her movements dislodged his sister who had been dozing by her side, Leafpaw waking with a confused blink.

“Wha-”

“The gathering patrol back already?” Bramblepaw asked, looking wide awake for a cat that was supposedly asleep five seconds ago.

Squirrelpaw narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, opening her jaws to respond but was cut off by Tawnypaw’s sleepy grumble, “don’t care, go back to sleep.”

Ignoring them all, Leafpaw looked at Gorsepaw, worry growing in her amber eyes at the tom’s state.

Gorsepaw shivered, “maybe-maybe we should wait till the morning and let Deadfoot and Tallstar explain?” Leafpaw suggested.

He shook his head, “waiting won’t change much, Thunderclan knows you’re here.”

At that, even Tawnypaw was awake, her rumpled tortoiseshell fur fluffed up in worry. “What?! How?!”

Gorsepaw shook his head, “we don’t know but I think Tallstar has his suspicions, regardless, the clans know where you are now.”

Squirrelpaw shuddered, memories of her time in Thunderclan flashing before her. Bluestar was a scary cat.

“What do we do now? Do you think we’ll have to leave Windclan?” Leafpaw asked, ears pinned back.

Squirrelpaw growled, “they can’t make us leave! Windclan is our home!”

Gorsepaw nodded, “you guys belong here.”

Bramblepaw shook his head, “but is it safe here?” Tawnypaw went to respond but Bramblepaw continued. “I mean, not just safe for us but safe for Windclan? I know Thunderclan, or at least Bluestar has it out for us and could easily start causing trouble for the clan but what if she gets Crookedstar or-or our father on her side? What could Windclan do against that many warriors?”

The five were silent, each lost in thought.

Finally, Leafpaw shook her head. “It doesn’t matter right now. We’re just apprentices and the leaders and warriors will deal with it. Right now, its our job to get some rest for training tomorrow.”

“But-”

“No buts, theres nothing we can do tonight,” Leafpaw meowed, voice uncharacteristically firm.

Gorsepaw nodded in agreement, “like I said, your part of Windclan now and we stand with our own. We’ll fight with you no matter what.”

“Well said, young ones,” Barkface meowed.

The group whirled around to face the medicine cat, dipping their heads politely.

“I just came to check on Gorsepaw, Eagleflight mentioned you looked frazzled.”

Gorsepaw shook his head, “I was but I’m fine now.”

He shared a look with Squirrelpaw who nudged him gently, “we were just about to get some sleep.”

Barkface nodded, “good plan. I know Tallstar plans to hold a meeting tomorrow. Sleep tight kits.”

While the others slowly went back to their nests, Squirrelpaw made her way over to Gorsepaw. “Did you really mean that? About Windclan fighting for us?”

Gorsepaw turned to face her, kind eyes meeting her own brilliant green. “Of course, you’re my clanmate now. All of you are. It would be lonely to be the only apprentice without you lot here. Besides, who else is going to wake me up each morning with her snoring?”

Squirrelpaw wacked him with a paw but purred lightly, brushing against his head gently. “Thank you, Gorsepaw.”

“Course,” he meowed simply.

Curled up, the five young cats soon gave way to sleep. The morning would bring new challenges but like always, Windclan would face them together.

“May all cats old enough to catch their own pray, gather here beneath the High Ledge.”

Already, most of the clan was gathered, almost everyone having heard the news about the gathering.

Hickorynose always said that Windclan were destined to be gossips, it was in the winds nature. Tawnypaw wondered where she fit into that assessment, not being Windclan born.

She shook the thoughts from her head, this was a high stakes debate, she had no time for such thoughts.

Windclan worked differently from Thunderclan, not that she really knew much of how Thunderclan operated but here, every cat would get the right to speak after Tallstar and together, they would decide her families’ fates.

She stilled when Tallstar spoke again, listening intently. “As many of you undoubtedly know, the other clans are now aware of Fireheart and her kits presence in Windclan. As is Windclan conduct, I will hear out your opinions but first, let me give everyone the stakes.

Firstly, Fireheart and her kits are not from Windclan, nor is Fireheart herself warrior born. Regardless, Fireheart has proven to have the spirit of a true warrior that any clan would be proud to have, and her kits are showing fine promise as well.

Secondly, Fireheart and her kits took shelter with us to escape Thunderclan’s abuse, and as per the warrior code, we took them in. That said, her kits are now apprentices, and that rule is void.

Third, Fireheart has been a light in Windclan many times, often coming to our aid. First in the exile, and again when Thunderclan sought war over stolen prey by dogs. However, we took them in and treated them with herbs and prey that could have fed our own therefore, our debt is supposedly paid.

Finally, Tigerstar is theses kits father and should he choose to proclaim war over them, Windclan stands to lose many. Additionally, Bluestar has already all but declared war and the loss of even a single warrior could turn the tides from our favour.

Now, I present to you the ultimatum. War is on the horizon and while prey runs well, our clan is small and is unlikely to be able to withstand the combined efforts of both Shadowclan and Thunderclan should they choose to attack. By removing Fireheart and her kits, we stand to mend things with Thunderclan, but could increase the likelihood of an attack by Shadowclan in retaliation.

Or, Fireheart and her kits can stay here, as true Windclan members, and we fight for our own. Windclan has won against greater odds before, and I have no doubt that we can do it again.”

With that, Tallstar stepped back, “Deadfoot, as per tradition, I give you the chance to speak.”

Deadfoot nodded, rising to speak to the whole clan. “I motion that Fireheart and her kits stay with us. Her kits have been with us for several moons now and do not deserve to be exiled from their second home. Additionally, Fireheart has been a source of great aid to us, and it is thanks to her, that my son now walks as a warrior.”

Tawnypaw could spot Eagleflight sitting solemnly by Webfoot and his mother, eyes locked on his father. As if sensing eyes on him, he turned to meet her gaze, a small smile forming before he turned back to his father’s speech, Tawnypaw following.

“I motion first, Fireheart and her kits stay with Windclan.”

Tallstar nodded, “Barkface?”

The brown furred medicine cat rose forward, “I motion first. Fireheart and her kits wouldn’t have survived had they stayed in Thunderclan, Bluestar is crossing to many boundaries that I fear even without them here, she would find a reason to fight. Fireheart is a good cat and her kits deserve a home.”

Tallstar nodded, moving on to Mudclaw. “I motion second. We don’t have enough cats to chance a war with two clans.”

And on it continued, each cat deciding the fate of her littermates and her mother. When all was said and done with Crowkit motioning first, the young tom gazing at Leafpaw worriedly, Tallstar rose to regain their attention.

“The clan has spoken and now I will give my statement. I too, motion first. Fireheart and her kits have given a lot to Windclan and I would be honoured to have them join us. Barkface, if you would give us the count?”

Barkface nodded, “we have sixteen firsts and seven seconds.”

Tallstar nodded, “then it is decided, Fireheart and her kits are part of Windclan and we will weather the coming storm together.”

“Windclan! Windclan! Windclan!”

Additions to the Allegiance List: (I mentioned earlier that if I ever found extra cats to add that I had missed or forgotten, I would mention them. Here are some cats that will potentially become relevant later-at least one of them does-that are now part of Windclan. They always have been, I just only recently found them.)

Pigeonflight-dark grey and white tom (Deadfoot and Sorrelshine's brother)

Sorrelshine-grey and brown shecat (Deadfoot and Pigeonflight's sister)

Stagleap-dark brown tom

Chapter Text

“Come on Tawnypaw,” Robinwing meows, the light brown shecat motioning with her tail for her apprentice to follow.

“I’ll be showing you some fighting moves at the Hollowed Patch then we’ll join the others for a quick hunting session. Then I believe you and Bramblepaw are on elder duty.”

Tawnypaw nodded dully, dragging her paws as she made her way over to the older shecat. Robinwings eyes narrowed but she held her tongue, merely leading the way out of camp.

For a moment, the two walked side by side, each lost in their own thoughts, only breaking when they got to the Hollowed Patch.

“Alright, let’s go over the basics to start.”

As Robinwing orders Tawnypaw through the paces, the young shecat finds her attention elsewhere.

“Come on, again!”

“Keep that tail still!”

“Careful! You’re putting too much weight on your left side!”

“Alright, stop, stop, stop this.” She sighs, Tawnypaw stilling as she pads over.

“Alright, what’s up with you? You’re never this distracted in training, and I know you love battle practice.”

“What makes you think somethings wrong?”

Robinwing stares at her, “you’ve been in your own head all day, don’t think I haven’t noticed. That’s normally a telling sign that somethings off.”

“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

Robinwing rests her tail lightly on her shoulder, “if you’re this bothered, its clearly not fine.”

Tawnypaw huffs, shoving the tail off. “I’m fine! Just leave it alone!”

Robinwing’s eyes narrow even further, “I can’t just leave this Tawnypaw. If somethings wrong, you can talk to me. Is it one of our clanmates? Did someone say something? Do-”

“JUST LEAVE IT!” She screams, claws digging into the soft earth.

Robinwing takes a step back, something calculating in her eye.

Tawnypaw heaves before gently breaking down into sobs.

For a while, Robinwing just stands there but with another sigh, she pads over and wraps herself around her apprentice. “You’re alright, we’ll work it out,” she soothes, rasping her tongue over her ear like she was a kit.

Tawnypaw takes a deep shuddering breath.

“Feel better?” She nods, not meeting her mentors’ eyes.

“Want to talk about it?”

Tawnypaw hesitates before speaking, stumbling slightly over her words. “I just, I don’t think I belong here sometimes.”

Robinwing tilts her head, “belong in the clans or belong in Windclan?”

“Both? I mean, I’m not even Windclan born, Gorsepaw is so much faster than I am and even my own siblings seem to be picking things up faster than me. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this.”

Robinwing screwed up her eyes in thought, “Gorsepaw has also been training for a full moon or so longer than you,” she comments. “And as for your littermates, some cats are just naturally built for speed. While it’s true that speed is a thing that comes easily for many Windclan cats, a lot of them have to learn it.

Speed, like any skill, needs to be trained. You don’t think Deadfoot with his twisted paw started out as one of the fasted cats in Windclan? No, he had to work towards it.

And you know what they say, ‘there’s no point being fast if you can’t finish the race’.

Speed is important but it’s not the only thing that matters, I know the elders have talked to you about the tunnelers before. They used much more then just speed to catch prey.

Point is training takes time and everyone learns at their own pace. And as your mentor, I can confidently say that you’ll make a fine Windclan warrier.”

Tawnypaw looked up, staring at her with wide eyes. “Really?”

Robinwing purred, “really.”

The tone changed, as Robinwing grew more serious, “but Tawnypaw, please, be honest with me. Has any cat been-been saying these things to you? Or hurting you? Because you do know that we don’t stand for that here-”

“NO! No, everyones been fine, it’s just… sometimes, they look at me, like they don’t trust me or like they expect me to go running back to Thunderclan or-or to Tigerstar who I don’t even know, and it just-it hurts... and I know not everyone wants us here. Some people voted to have us leave. How can I be at home here when my own clanmates don’t even want or trust me?”

Robinwing looked sad, “I understand.”

Tawnypaw whirled around, her tail lashing behind her in anger. “How? How could you possibly understand this?”

“Did I ever tell you about my mate?”

Tawnypaw blinked, surprised by the sudden change in subject.

Robinwing smiled but it was tinged with sadness. “We were close friends as apprentices and when I finally become a warrior shortly after him, it wasn’t long before we became mates. I loved him, Pigeonflight meant everything to me, and I swore that we would be the best warriors of Windclan together.”

Tawnypaw thought to the grey and white tom in the clan, she didn’t know him well but remembered that he was one of the cats that voted to have them leave. She certainly didn’t know that the two of them had been mates but now that she did, the toms’ sad lovesick eyes he always made at her mentor made sense.

“But then Shadowclan attacked, and we were exiled. My mate, ex-mate, Pigeonflight,” she took a deep, shaky breath before continuing.

“When we were exiled, some cats chose to stay behind. Pigeonflight was one of them. My clan was injured, cats were dead, and we were fleeing but he left us.

I thought we’d stay together forever, that I could count on him and him on me, but when we ran away, he refused to come, stating that Windclan was back in those moors and that that was where he would stay.

Not even thinking of our clanmates, the remainder of his clan, he left us to fend for ourselves while he went back to the scraps of territory that was left. We needed him, and he left.”

Tawnypaw was breathless in shock, the shecats pain so raw that it left her reeling.

“When your mother brought us home, we left to bury our dead and they found us. Pigeonflight and his sister Sorrelshine and her former mentor Stagleap. They asked to rejoin Windclan, as if they had never even left. Of course, Tallstar let them. We needed all the paws we could get to get the camp back together in time for Leaf Bare, but it hurt.

The clan would look at me sometimes in exile, wondering if I was going to go running after him and leave them too. Even now that he’s back, I can’t find it in myself to talk to him.

He left us in hell and now he wants to come back and pretend it never happened?”

She sighed, turning to face her young apprentice, a weary look in her eyes.

“Tawnypaw, listen. In the end, Windclan will side with you. Regardless of trust. I know what it’s like to be without a home, to not know where to go or who to turn too but just know, that if you ever need me? I’m here for you. You do have a home in Windclan if you want one, I’ll make sure of it.”

Tawnypaw leaned into her mentor, her thicker fur meshing with her mentor’s short coat. “Thank you,” she got out around her chocked up throat.

Robinwing licked her head gently, “always, now, how do you say about getting to that hunting session?”

Tawnypaw laughed lightly, blinking back tears, “yeah, let’s go.”

As the two shecats left the training hollow, Tawnypaw moved closer to her mentor. "Maybe, maybe you should talk to him? Just to get some closure? He still looks at you, you know? I don't-I don't think I'll ever get closure with Thunderclan and my father, but you-you deserve better too," she meowed, voice soft, uncertain. 

Robinwing merely pulled her closer, wrapping her tail around her young apprentices shoulders.

She smiled down at her apprentice softly, "maybe."

Chapter Text

Windclan Allegiances Updated: Huge thanks to Sworishina! Without their fic, I doubt I’d ever have ever been able to complete this allegiance list! Their work is amazing and really well done! For those aspiring to write their own warriors fics, I recommend you go check it out! It truly is a great resource! Thanks again!

Leader: Tallstar-black and white tom

Deputy: Deadfoot-black tom twisted front paw, apprentice Bramblepaw

Medicine cat: Barkface-brown tom

Warriors: Rushtail-skinny light cream-brown tom

Darkfoot-blue gray tom

Stagleap-dark brown tom

Doespring-light brown shecat

Oatwhisker-creamy brown tom (I had him as an elder originally but note that he’s now a warrior)

Pigeonflight-dark grey and white tom

Sorrelshine-grey and brown shecat

Emberfoot-gray tom

Willowclaw-grey shecat

Flylight-white tom

Robinwing-light brown shecat blue eyes, apprentice Tawnypaw

Tornear-tabby tom, apprentice Squirrelpaw

Mudclaw-mottled dark brown tom

Thrushwing-tortoiseshell shecat

Onewhisker-brown tabby tom, apprentice Leafpaw

Runningbrook-light gray tabby she-cat, apprentice Gorsepaw

Webfoot-dark gray tabby tom

Tawnyfur-golden brown shecat

Eagleflight-gray tom

Whitetail-small white shecat

Fireheart-bright flame-coloured shecat with green eyes

Apprentices:

Gorsepaw-lean brown tabby tom

Bramblepaw-dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Squirrelpaw-dark ginger shecat with one white paw and green eyes

Tawnypaw-tortoiseshell and white shecat with green eyes

Leafpaw- pale brown tabby shecat with a white chest and paws and amber eyes

Queens:

Ashfoot-gray queen mother of Crowkit

Morningflower-tortoiseshell queen

Kits: Crowkit-dark smoky gray tom

Elders:

Crowfur-small black tom

Hickorynose-brown tom father of Deadfoot, Sorrelshine, and Pigeonflight

Lilywhisker-light brown shecat injured hind leg and amber eyes

Known Deceased: Noted that aside from Cloudrunner, none of these are canon deaths just things that make it easier to write the story. Also assume that all other cats not mentioned, died during either the raid or subsequent exile. If you’re wondering how I decide who lives and dies, the answer is simple. If they have kits in the future (even just according to the “Missing Kits” page, then they get to live most of the time. If they have no canon kits or don’t serve a purpose in the future, they don’t get to live…There are exceptions and mistakes, just roll with it.)

Cloudrunner-white tom father of Gorsepaw-died during the SC raid

Meadowslip-light grey shecat mother of Deadfoot, Sorrelshine, and Pigeonflight-died during the SC raid

Mistmouse-light brown tabby shecat (mother of Stagleap, Doespring, and Ryestalk)-dies during exile

Wrenflight-brown shecat (Tallstar’s younger sister and mother to Onewhisker, Ashfoot, and Morningflower)-died from hunger in exile

Ryestalk-gray tabby shecat (mother of Tornear and Mudclaw)-hit by a monster hunting during exile

Bristlebark-black tom (Tallstar’s younger brother)

Rabbitear-pale brown shecat (Tallstar’s younger sister)-both littermates died during the raid

“Fireheart! A word?”

The ginger furred queen looked up to meet eyes with Tallstar, the toms long tail twitching behind him. She nodded, turning to give Squirrelpaw a quick lick and murmuring for the patrol to go without her.

She turned to face him proper. “What did you need?” She asks.

Tallstar guides her to his den, a small cavern at the bottom of the High Ledge. “I want to know if you’ve given any thought to your answer for Tigerstar? I am meeting him tonight and I’ll need a response to take with me.”

Fireheart didn’t answer, thoughts whirling through her mind. The fact that her ex-mate had asked for her, for her kits, didn’t sit right with her. After everything the tom had done, after he left them all behind, why did he have the right to ask anything of her!

“Fireheart?” Tallstar prompted, concern showing in his eyes.

Fireheart shivered, “I-I don’t know yet. I’m sorry, I just-I just need a bit more time.”

Tallstar blinked, worried, but nodded. “I understand, but I’ll need an answer soon.”

Fireheart nodded mutely.

With an ear flick, Tallstar’s gaze softened. “Look, I’ll give you the day off to make your decision, you can think about it then and give it to me at Sun Down.”

Fireheart blinked at him, “thank you.”

He nodded, turning to leave before she got the courage to ask him her question.

“Wait!”

He turned back, paws clearly itching to leave, an urge to run that never seemed to leave Windclan cats.

“I was wondering if it would be alright if I went to speak to Barley and Ravenpaw?”

Tallstar tilted his head consideringly, “I don’t see why not. But take another warrior with you. I don't want to take any chances these days.”

Fireheart nodded, leaping to her paws.

“Thank you,” she purred, brushing against him gently.

Tallstar blinked down at her softly, “of course.”

“Where are we going?” Leafpaw asked, her amber eyes gazing curiously at her mentor.

Onewhisker replied, pausing to hop over a small burrow, “Fireheart wanted to speak to some friends of hers at the barn, we’re just keeping her company.”

Leafpaw turned her attention to her mother, the ginger queen was strolling determinedly ahead, keeping a steady pace. A determined look coated the shecats face, her emerald eyes glinting in the midday sun.

“Why would she want to do that?” She asked, curiously.

Onewhisker paused to look back at her, a considering look on his face. “Your mother has had a tough time with friendships. I’d suspect that she’d want to keep in contact with the ones that she has left,” he meowed.

“We’re here,” Fireheart called back.

Leafpaw jolted, not realising that they were quickly approaching their destination.

Onewhisker jolted as well, the tom blinking in surprise when he spotted the barn right ahead of them.

Fireheart once again took the lead, Onewhisker and Leafpaw falling in behind in silence as they approached and entered the barn.

The ginger warrior looked around the barn cautiously, “Ravenpaw? Barley? You here?”

Onewhisker shuffled his paws nervously, the harsh angles of the barn and its creeping shadows clearly weighing on the tom.

Secretly, Leafpaw agreed, she’d much prefer to be out on the open moors. Something about the harsh unnaturalness of it all grated on her, the smell of hay making her sneeze.

“Maybe they’re not here? We could come back later,” he suggested.

Firehearts ears drooped as she turned to face them.

As she opened her mouth to respond, a short call drew their gaze. “No need for that!”

Leafpaw blinked in surprise as two toms leapt down from the rafters to land in front of the trio.

She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting but the two cats in front of her were not it.

When her mother had told her stories about Ravenpaw, it had been about a cat who was as dark as night and as speedy as a snake. While the small tom in front of her was indeed as dark as the night sky, she could hardly believe that the plump tom had once caught an adder single handily.

She had less to go off of on Barley. He may have popped up in one or two of her mothers’ stories but all she knew was that the black and white tom had been a good friend to Ravenpaw and therefore, her mother.

Speaking of her mother, Fireheart had twined herself around the two toms in greeting. Ravenpaw licking her ear affectionately.

“Fireheart! Its great to see you! What brings you here?” He greeted, green eyes glowing with happiness.

Fireheart let out a loud purr, “can’t I just want to see my friends?”

Ravenpaw laughed, nudging her gently, “as if.”

Leafpaw watched in fascination at the easy camaraderie the strange tom and her mother had quickly struck up, Onewhisker appearing equally as puzzled.

Barley hummed, “don’t suppose you’ll introduce us to your friends?”

Fireheart blinked, a blush appearing on her face as she spotted the two sitting awkwardly by the barn doors.

“Sorry, this is Onewhisker, a good friend of mine in Windclan. And this is my daughter, Leafpaw.”

At the word daughter, Ravenpaw perked up, the tom’s green eyes meeting her own amber, a burning flame of curiosity in his eyes.

“Well, its great to meet you two! Why don’t you come join us for a snack? Can’t imagine there's many mice in those moors of yours,” Barley offered, a hint of amusement in his meow.

Before the two could say anything, Fireheart had leapt in. “That would be great! I have so much to tell you about and its been moons since I've had a good mouse.”

Ravenpaw gazed at her, a hint of sadness in his gaze, “I can imagine.”

While the others were quickly devouring the mice, Barley and Ravenpaw had caught for them, Fireheart had taken the opportunity to speak to the black tom alone.

While she dabbled around for what to say, for how to explain what had happened while the tom had been gone, she quickly found the breath squished out of her as Ravenpaw all but tackled her in a hug.

“I missed you,” he meowed, voice muffled by her fur.

She laughed, eyes a bit misty as she licked the tom’s cheek. “And I you.”

The two lay there for a moment, comfortably sharing tongues as the sun continued to rise in the sky.

Finally, the two sat up and Ravenpaw turned to face her, tail flicking with nervous energy. “So, tell me everything.”

And she did. She told him about Greystripe leaving for Riverclan. About how she found herself falling for Tigerstar of all cats. She told him about her exile. And, of course, she told him all about her kits.

Ravenpaw was patient, letting her pour out all of her joy and sadness and anger with his quiet, soothing presence.

When she was finally done, telling him about Tigerstar’s desire to meet with her, he met her gaze with eyes full of a loving acceptance.

“Fireheart, your one of my best friends and I’ll love you no matter what.”

Fireheart felt a weight lift that she hadn’t known was there. Despite being sure that Ravenpaw would be there for her, she knew how the tom felt about Tigerstar and she feared how he’d react to her and their kits. She was relieved that despite her actions, despite what she’d done, he still stood for her.

Fireheart would never regret her kits but she grieved the fact that they had the father they did. At least, she has Ravenpaw to be there for her.

“What do you think I should do?” She asked, voice growing weary.

Ravenpaw sighed, “I can’t tell you what to do, because I’m not you.”

Fireheart visibly wilted, eyes filling with tired, frustrated tears but before they could fall the tom flicked her gently with his tail, "hey, let me finish."

He tilted his head, lost in thought. “I may not be you but I think I know you pretty well. Fireheart, you are a good cat, a kind cat. You’ll do what is best for everyone around you even if it hurts you. I think-I think it’s time that you finally do what is best for you. If you feel it better to move on and leave it in the past, do it. If you think it’ll heal on its own, don’t go aggravating old wounds. But” he hesitates.

“If-if you need answers, feel ties holding you back that you can’t cut yourself free from… do what is best for you. Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks cause in the end, you’re the one who has to live with it. I’ve made my decision and I’m happy to let my past be just that, the past. But if your past keeps calling your name, maybe it’s best to yell at it to its face.”

Fireheart stared at him, eyes welling with tears. Somehow, he had assured everyone of her fears in one go.

She let her head rest on his shoulder, heaving in a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she murmured.

She felt his tongue rasp over her shoulder gently. “Always,” he murmured back.

Leafpaw watched as Fireheart and Ravenpaw padded away, Onewhisker had risen to go follow them only for Barley to catch him and hold him back.

The black and white tom shook his head, “best to let them figure it out alone.”

Onewhisker eyed him with caution but nodded, “I’ll just go make dirt real quick,” he muttered awkwardly, leaving the barn.

Leafpaw quickly found herself at the sole attention of the loner, almost wishing she could leave like her mentor. The toms blue eyes bore into her own.

“So, your one of Firehearts kittens, ey? How do you enjoy the life of a warrior?”

Leafpaw fidgeted nervously, unsure of how to respond to the tom. “I guess its fine?”

“Fine?” The tom asked, voice disbelieving. “From what I’ve heard, the life of a warrior is the best thing there ever is! For you to say its just fine?! Well, I can’t believe it.” He grunted, mischief on his face.

Leafpaw blushed, covering her face with her paws. “I mean, its great. Really, its just-”

The toms face had slowly lost its cheeky look, being replaced with an almost understanding gaze. “Its not what you thought it’d be? Isn’t it?” He asked, prodding gently.

Leafpaw shook her head, then nodded, then shook her head again. “I don’t.. Its great, it really is! I love being a clan cat and serving my clan. I just, I don’t really know if I’m any good at it…” She meowed, anxiety coursing through her body.

This was the first time she had ever spoken about those thoughts and while it felt good to finally voice them, a small part of her wished she had never mentioned it at all, least of all to a cat who would likely not understand.

The loner didn’t judge her though, just hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose, Ravenpaw never really felt like he was cut out for it either. Of course, there were more pressing reasons for why he left the clans, but I think that with a bit of hard work, he’d have made a fine warrior and I’m sure you will too.”

Leafpaw shook her head, “that’s the thing. All warriors seem to do is fight! I’ve seen cats get hurt from fighting and I don’t like it! I don’t want to hurt other cats! It makes me feel all icky inside.”

Barley stared at her, “what if it was to protect your family? Your clan?”

Leafpaw shuddered, “I don’t know.. I guess I’d have to help fight but-”

“But its not what you want to do?” he cut off for her.

She nodded, ashamed.

“Hey, none of that, look.” The tom sighed, for once seeming his age. “I get it, you know? I had the chance to fight, and I chose not to. So did Ravenpaw. Its not a bad thing to not want to fight, you know?”

Leafpaw shook her head, eyes wide “but warriors have to fight! It’s the only way to help our clans!”

Barley tilted his head, “is it? I may not know all that much about clan life but I know enough. Not all cats fight, elders and kits don’t. Your healers don’t either. Some cats have to hunt or build dens or gather herbs. There is so much more to life then fighting, don’t ever forget that.”

Leafpaw stared at him, uncertain.

Barley sighed, “look, it really should be Ravenpaw talking to you about this but as he’s busy, I’ll have to do."

"Listen, cats fight. It’s just how life is. But life is so much more then fighting. If you don’t want to fight, then don’t. Now, sometimes we don’t get a choice about if we get to fight or not, but we always have a chance to do something else with our lives."

"You don’t want to fight? Then you shouldn't. Do something else with your life, you can still do much good for your clan even if you aren’t a fighter. Sometimes, we need to prioritize our own happiness, okay?”

“Leafpaw? Onewhisker? You ready to go?”

Leafpaw glanced up at her mother’s call, Barley following her lead. “Looks like our time is up. Think on what I said, okay kit?”

Fireheart shared a concerned glance with Onewhisker, as Leafpaw continued walking in between them.

The shecat had been quiet since they left the barn, but she didn’t seem upset, merely pensive, so Fireheart let it be for now, making a note to discuss it with her daughter when they got home.

Home... When had she started referring to Windclan as home? She shook her head as they finally entered Windclan territory. Those were thoughts for later.

She sighed in relief as the familiar land welcomed them back. What wasn’t familiar, was the scent of blood in the air. Or the form of a running cat heading towards them.

Fireheart and Onewhisker unsheathed their claws, scenting the air as the cat charged towards them.

Onewhisker’s eyes widened as Whitetail skidded to a halt before them, heaving desperately for air. The shecat’s white fur was mattered and coated in thick red blood, her eyes wide and terrified.

Onewhisker and Fireheart shared a horrified look as the shecat wheezed at their paws.

“Help! Thunderclan is attacking!”

Chapter Text

Fireheart and Onewhisker share panicked looks before charging after Whitetail, Leafpaw following behind as Onewhisker barks at her to stay beside him.

She hears the fighting before she sees it, swirls of colour and movement. Torn pieces of fur and blood flying everywhere, staining the moors around them red. Already, she can see her that her clanmates are losing, a simple hunting patrol was not prepared for the seemingly whole of Thunderclan to attack them.

She charges in after her mentor, trying to mentally prepare herself, terror in her bones. She comes face to face with Cloudtail, her cousin staring at her sadly before he backs away and leaps into the fray. She hates that he was clearly forced to be here.

Shaking her head, she spots Emberfoot desperately trying to fight off two warriors on his own and quickly rushes to help, Onewhisker joining her. She can see the relief in her clanmates eyes as he spots them coming to his aid.

The adrenaline racing through her body forces her onward as the Thunderclan warriors are forced back.

She feints back to allow her mentor to take the lead, stumbling and often getting in the way as the forces of battle rage around her. Her heart is pounding as she trades blows, balancing on her hind legs desperately when a strong kick sends her back.

She rolls to a stop and scrambles to her paws, only for a mound of dark grey fur to crush her.

“Die Kittypet,” the tom who she recognises as Darkstripe, hisses into her ears. His sharp claws tear into her sides as she lets loose a wail of pain trying frantically to free herself. Her vision dims as her body tires, her mind giving one last desperate push to escape his grip. Just when she thinks it’s over, the pressure is gone.

She heaves for air desperately and watches on in disbelief as her sprightly sister tackles a tom more than twice her size.

“GET OFF OF HER!” She yells, tiny but sharp teeth digging into his ear and shredding it. The tabby wails as he frantically tries to throw her sister off before turning and charging back into the Thunderclan bushes.

Squirrelpaw hisses at his retreating back before turning to her with large, concerned eyes. “Are you alright?! Can you stand?!”

Leafpaw nods numbly, her sister coming over to nudge her to her paws. Squirrelpaw’s eyes scan the clearing, making contact with their mother who had been unable to get to them in the chaos. Relief burning in her gaze.

“Thunderclan! Retreat!” Longtail yowls, dragging a younger injured tom with him as he leads the way home.

Bluestar screeches her anger as her warriors rush to follow him.

“COWARDS!” She spits, tail lashing and claws digging into the ground each step she takes back.

Tornear growls at her, “leave, you have lost this battle.”

Bluestar’s eyes narrow, the look in them sending shivers down Leafpaws spine. “Perhaps, but I will win the war. Already, one of your cats is all but destined to die. And he will be the first. I will pick off each and everyone of you traitors until the clans are free of rouges for good!”

She makes eye contact with Fireheart when she says that Fireheart paling as Bluestar smirks.

With that, she turned and raced after her clanmates.

Onewhisker hurries over, her mother close behind, worry on their faces. “Are you two alright?!”

Leafpaw and Squirrelpaw share shaky nods, as Fireheart covers them in comforting licks. “I’m so glad you too are safe,” she breathes, body shivering as she pulls them both close.

The calm is broken by a strangled cry.

“Gorsepaw!?”

Leafpaw feels her body go cold when the limp body of the young tom was brought into the open. He was laying still, blood dripping from a deep gash in his stomach, breaths coming out harsh and fast as his half-lidded eyes swirled around in fear.

“Gorsepaw!” Squirrelpaw cried, running over to stand beside Runningbrook, Fireheart close behind her.

Onewhisker’s eyes were wide as he turned to face Squirrelpaw. “Go! Run!”

Squirrelpaw stared up at him, eyes wide. “I can’t just leave him!”

He growled, “you’re one of the fastest here and the least injured. Go get Barkface! NOW!”

With a last terrified glance at the tom, she ran off, leaping effortlessly over a burrow and vanished into the grass with one last flick of her bushy tail.

Leafpaw stared in horror as Runningbrook and Fireheart tried desperately to stem the bleeding to no avail. Gorsepaw… her friend.

Her mind flickered back to a memory that was fuzzy around the edges. Back when she and her family had only just joined Windclan.

Tawnypaw, then Tawnykit, had been deemed well enough to go back to Fireheart but Barkface had wanted her to stay a little longer, just to be sure she had fully recovered.

Her bright eyes peered curiously over the edge of the nest as the dark brown tom sorted herbs with a careful precision.

“What are you doing?” she asked, shuffling closer to look.

Barkface didn’t still his movements as he responded. “I’m sorting herbs so I can put them away where they belong.”

Her nose twitched, “why don’t you just leave them in a pile? Isn’t sorting them boring?”

Barkface let out an amused purr, “I sort them so that if an emergency happens, I know just where to find the herbs I need. And I don’t find it boring, I see it as calming, relaxing.”

He turned to her, eyes lit with a strange look, “here, why don’t you try? The dark green, hairy leaves are borage, and the larger, fatter leaves are chickweed. I need them in two neat piles.”

Leafkit edges forward out of her nest, eyes settling on the leaves with interest. Her deft paws quickly pull apart the pile as she begins to sort.

"What do they do?” She asks, hooking a borage leaf on her claw and lifting it up to study it.

“Well, borage is good for fevers and helps queens produce more milk. I’ve been giving some to your mother and you and Tawnykit as well to help your recovery. Chickweed can be used to treat greencough and whitecough, although its not as good as catmint but leafbare makes it hard for catmint to grow so when we run out, well, chickweed is better then nothing.”

Leafkit stares at the plants with wonder, “wow! They really do that much!? But they’re so small!”

Barkface purred, “they do, and they are. Little wonders, truely.”

The peace was interrupted by a loud call from the entrance, Eaglepaw hobbling in followed closely by his mentor, Mudclaw.

Barkface hurried over as Mudclaw ushered the tom into a nearby nest, Eaglepaw falling into it with a small yelp of pain and a quick “hey Leafkit.”

“What happened?” Barkface asks, as he examines the wound, a deep gash in the tom’s shoulder.

Mudclaw snorts, “he tried to chase a rabbit into the tunnels and ended up catching his shoulder on a sharp bit of rock on the way.”

Eaglepaw winces as Barkface noses his shoulder, “I almost caught the rabbit though!”

Mudclaw sighs, “just don’t go chasing them into tunnels anymore, there's a reason we stay above ground.”

“So, what's the verdict? Will I live?” Eaglepaw teases.

Barkface sighs as he steps back, “you’ll be fine. I’ll grab some cobwebs and marigold and you’ll be right as rain in no time.”

Eaglepaw perks up at the news only to instantly flatten his ears to his head when Barkface continues. “But you’ll be off training for at least three days. I need that shoulder to close before I let you go running off again.”

“Three days!? I can’t wait that long!?”

Mudclaw nudges him, “you’ll do what Barkface says. Consider this your punishment for running off without telling me.”

Eaglepaw lays his head morosely on his paws in response, “fineeee.”

Barkface limps back towards them, a few bright yellow petals hanging from his mouth and finely, spun cobwebs wrapped around one paw. “Hold still,” he instructs, as he chews the petals up.

Leafkit scoots closer, “what’s that?”

Barkface continues to apply the poultice to the apprentice’s shoulder as he responds, “marigold, good for fighting off and preventing infections.” He takes the cobwebs and sticks them around Eaglepaw’s shoulder. "And cobwebs. The cobwebs are to help stem the bleeding and keep the herbs in place. It’ll also remind him to not lick the wound as to not lick off the herbs.”

"Woah.”

It had all seemed so magical back then but now, now it was very much real.

She sprung back into the present when Gorsepaw let out a cry of pain as Runningbrook pressed too hard on the wound.

She pushed her way forward. “Keep trying to stop the bleeding,” she commands, a confidence in her voice that had never been there before. Her sharp eyes scan the clearing, landing on a bush nearby.

She rushes over and is relieved when she spots the faint outline of a spider web. She grabs as much as she can wrap around her paw before hobbling as quickly as she can back to the group.

Runningbrook and Tornear eye her warily as she approaches but she ignores them and quickly starts placing the cobwebs over the gash. More of Barkfaces words coming back to her.

“Remember, the cobwebs need to pull the wound together and make sure its tight. It’s no use just placing them on if there's no pressure to keep the wound together and the blood inside the body.”

She strategically organizes the cobwebs over the gash, carefully sealing the wound shut. When she’s done, Gorsepaw is surrounded in a large pool of blood.

But no more leaks from his side.

She leans closer and breaths a sigh of relief when the tom’s breath ruffles her fur. Runningbrook starts sobbing when she sees Barkface racing towards them, Squirrelpaw not far behind.

Leafpaw takes a step back, her mother putting her tail lightly over her shoulder as Barkface assesses the apprentice.

“Well done,” she murmurs, as two warriors carry the apprentice home. Leafpaw says nothing, merely staring at her bloodied paws.

The camp is celebrating their victory and Gorsepaw’s survival. They know that there will be more battles on the horizon but for now, they are safe.

Leafpaw can’t join them though. Her mind in a flurry over this afternoon’s adventure.

She is startled out of her thoughts by a body settling in beside her, seeking shelter under the same bush as cats dance and play in the clearing.

“You okay?” Tawnypaw asks.

“Hm? Yeah, I-I’m fine.”

Tawnypaw’s eyes narrow, “yeah, no. I don’t believe that.”

Her brow furrows, “is it about Gorsepaw? Remember, Barkface says he’ll be fine in no time. And Windclan won’t let Thunderclan hurt us, we stand together, we fight together.”

Leafpaw breathes out heavily, “that’s the thing though. I don’t want to fight!”

Tawnypaw stares at her, eyes thoughtful. “You’re not much of a fighter now, but you can still be a warrior, if you want. Robinwing says it just takes practice," she says, recieting her mentors wisdom.

Leafpaw shakes her head, eyes going to the medicine cat den where she can see Morningflower sharing tongues with Ashfoot, Crowkit playing at their paws with a feather. “I don’t think its about practice. I-I don’t think I want to be a warrior…” she finally admits, “I don’t think its what I’m meant to do.”

Barley’s words run in her head. “Sometimes we don’t get a choice about if we get to fight or not, but we always have a chance to do something else with our lives. You don’t want to fight? Then don’t. Do something else with your life, you can still do much good for your clan even if you aren’t a fighter.”

“I need to do something,” she meows, getting to her paws.

Tawnypaw follows her gaze to the medicine cat den and nods, understanding flooding her vision. “I’ll miss sharing a den with you but I want you to be happy more then I want you to be with me. If this is what you want to do, I know that we’ll all support you.”

Leafpaw leans against her in thanks before making her way across the clearing to the medicine cat den.

Her eyes meet with Crowkits and for a split second she hesitates but then she thinks back to Gorsepaw, who would be dead without her. To Ravenpaw and Barley who found a purpose without fighting. To Barkface who helped so many cats without having to raise a single claw. To her mother and her littermates who have had to fight far too much, far too soon.

She squared her shoulders and kept walking. ‘I’m sorry Crowkit,' she thought, 'but I’ve got to do this.’

“Barkface?” she calls out, pushing her way into the den.

The tom turns to face her, Gorsepaw breathing steadily asleep in a nest beside him, the final push she needed.

“I want to be your apprentice.”

Chapter Text

The white furred tom cautiously eyed the clearing before ducking back into the foliage. “It’s safe, lets go.”

Out of the bushes emerged three other cats.

“Where are they? Shouldn’t they be hear by now?” the ginger shecat hissed.

“We just need to be patient,” the second tom responded, ears flat to his skull, “they’ll be here.”

“How can you be so sure? What if they’re lying? They ask us to meet them then lead us into a trap?!” The third tom asked, his long tail lashing from side to side in anxiety.

“We have to trust them, or else all hope is lost.”

“Quiet! Someone’s coming.”

The four fade back into the shadows, waiting as the bushes ahead of them rustle.

A blue furred face pokes out from between the trees, “Cloudtail? Sandstorm? You guys here?” A sigh of relief is heard before they remerge.

“Mistyfoot,” Sandstorm greets, “you made it.”

“We couldn’t just leave you,” she responded. Cloudtail pads over to touch noses with her in greeting.

“We?” Longtail asks, eyeing her warily.

Everyone had been surprised when the tabby had joined their rebellion, many mistrustful but Swiftclaw was his apprentice, and he wanted justice, so he went with them and kept his mouth shut. For that, he had Cloudtails respect.

Mistyfoot steps to the side to allow Stonefur and Blackclaw to enter. “We are on your side.”

"Where's Graystripe?" Cloudtail asks, searching around for the gray tom.

Stonefur hesitates before responding when it becomes clear the others won't. "it'll become clear soon," he promises.

“So, what’s this meeting for?” Cloudtail and Mistyfoot exchange glances before Mistyfoot breaks the silence. “Crookedstar is dead.”

“No!”

“What happened!?”

“Does that mean Leopardfur?”

“Quiet! Someone will hear you,” Stonefur growls, “yes, Crookedstar is dead and our new leader is Leopardstar. That's partially why Graystripe isn't here. Leopardstar has had him on patrols all day, we think she's on suspicious of him so he had to stay back at camp.” 

Sandstorm starts to pace nervously, “Crookedstar was going to ally with us against Bluestar, what are Leopardstar’s intentions?”

The twin blue warriors exchanged a stormy look, “your not gonna like it. She’s been leaving the camp lately to speak to Tigerstar. We think she is plotting something with him.”

“You think? Shouldn’t you know this stuff? As her deputy?” Sandstorm queries.

Stonefur shook his head morosely. “She doesn’t trust me for some reason. I suspect Tigerstar’s told her something, but I don’t know what or why. I wouldn’t be surprised if the only reason I’m still currently deputy is because the rest of the clan is for the most part on my side.”

Cloudtail’s brow furrows, “that complicates things.”

Mistyfoot nods, “that’s why we needed to speak with you so urgently. We need a new game plan. How many cats are on your side?”

Sandstorm responds, “us, as well as Cinderheart, Brightheart, Speckletail, Brackenfur, and Thornclaw for sure. We believe we can sway some of the others as well. Right now, we’re trying to sus out who can be trusted and who needs to be avoided. Whitestorm might be on to us which worries me but we’ll just have to be more careful. But I believe that when the time comes, most will stand with us.”

Stonefur nods, “and what of the kit? One of you mentioned that you feared for his life?”

Brackenfur stepped forward then to speak, “Bluestar’s mind is continuing to crumble, she felt like-feels like- only the strong are allowed to survive. We, me and Speckletail, pretended to lose him in the fire so that they’ll believe he is dead. I managed to get him to the twolegplace were Cloudtail’s mother lives. She’ll take care of him until its safe for him to return.”

They had stained the poor kits fur with soot to hide him and smuggled him away to the twolegplace while the clan ran for the river.

Stonefur’s head tilted, “he’ll return? It’ll be tough, to become a deaf warrior.”

Brackenfur bit back a growl, Cloudtail taking over before any blood could be shed.

“He’ll be fine, my fathers deaf. White fur and blue eyes too. He developed a way of silent communication that he taught to me and my siblings and mother. He’ll teach Snowkit and Snowkit and I will teach everyone else. It’ll become a valuable asset to the clan. He will be a warrior.”

Stonefur nods thoughtfully, “I believe you.”

“I hate to break this touching moment but we need to leave. The sun will soon breach the horizon and I don’t fancy facing Bluestar for being out of camp at night. Somehow, I don’t think she’ll accept needing to use the dirt place as an excuse for all four of us,” Longtail interrupts, dryly.

Mistyfoot nods, “till next time then Thunderclanners. May Starclan light your path.”

“And yours,” Cloudtail murmers. “Thunderclan will survive this.”

‘We’re all with you Aunty,” he thinks, ‘we’re all with you.’

Tallstar is nervous but he refuses to show it, biting back a growl when his tail flicks without his say so.

“You don’t have to go alone,” Deadfoot interrupts.

Tallstar sighs, “I know, but I am. This is between me and Tigerstar.”

“Tigerstar is a murderer and quiet possibly insane, I don’t trust you there with him alone.”

Tallstar purred, “trust me, I may be old, but I can take on one cat. I’ll be fine.” He meets his deputies gaze, “I need to do this, so have faith in me old friend.”

Deadfoot gazes at him sceptically before relenting, “as you wish.”

With that, Tallstar leaves the clearing and heads for Four Trees, the decided upon meeting spot.

The chilling breeze cut through his thin fur and he shivered, almost wishing he had agreed to company. Thankfully, he made good time and quickly, Four Trees was approaching. 

When he arrived, Tigerstar was already waiting for him.

Alone.

Like they agreed on.

“Tallstar,” he meows deeply, dipping his head. “Welcome.”

Tallstar dips his head in turn, “Tigerstar, how’s the prey faring in Shadowclan?”

“The prey is running well but please; we did not come here for such pleasantries. Tell me, how are Fireheart and the kits?”

Tallstar bites back a snarl before answering. “They are doing well, already they show great promise. Squirrelpaw is already driving her mentor mad,” he mused with a purr.

“Squirrelpaw?” The tabby interrupted.

Tallstar went to shoot him a dark look at the interruption but was halted by the wonderous look in the tom’s eyes. “Yes?”

“What are-what are the others named?”

Tallstar was completely shocked by this, he didn’t even know their names? What kind of father doesn’t know their kits names!?

Tigerstar glared at him when he said as much.

“They didn’t have names when I ~left~ Thunderclan,” Tallstar politely ignores the word left, “and I wasn’t at the gathering that announced their birth. I just knew that there was four of them, three shekits and a tom.”

The black and white leader tilted his head consideringly, he didn’t like the dark tabby. He knew he was an evil cat with a lot of blood on his paws, but he also knew that he was a father.

As loathe as he was to admit it, he felt the tom at least deserved to know his kits names.

Fireheart would want him to know.

Tigerstar was staring off to the side, shoulders stiff and awkward.

“Bramblepaw.”

“What?”

“That’s the name of your son. He’s a good cat, strong and loyal. He does his mother proud.”

Tigerstar’s eyes were wide, his face swinging around to stare at him, desperate for more.

Tallstar continued, “you already know of Squirrelpaw, shes a bundle of reckless energy but so very passionate. Your other daughters are Tawnypaw and Leafpaw. Tawnypaw is cautious but with a good head on her shoulders, very steadfast, she shows great diplomatic potential and Leafpaw is training under Barkface to become a medicine cat, she is very compassionate and kind.”

The tom bowed his head to collect himself, Tallstar averting his gaze as the Shadowclan leader mouthed the names of his kits to himself silently.

When a moment had passed, the dark tabby met Tallstar’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he meowed. “Thank you.”

Tallstar said nothing, merely dipping his head.

“And-and Fireheart?”

Tallstar’s eyes narrowed, “she is doing well but wishes to remain in Windclan. Like I said, her and her kits are doing well there. The apprentices training is commencing well, and they have found a home on the moors. I will not be the one to take another home from them.”

The unspoken ‘and I won’t let you either’ passed between them. The almost neutral atmosphere between them quickly turning bitter.

Tigerstar stiffened but eventually, nodded. “Very well, then I suppose that’s all we need to discuss.”

Tallstar stares at him unblinking, “I suppose it is.”

“I wish for Fireheart to meet me here herself next halfmoon.”

Tallstar opens his mouth to respond to the tom’s audacity but is yet again cut off.

“She does not have to but she at least deserves the chance to answer for herself,” he meows, a sharp, cunning edge to his voice as he throws the other toms words back at him. Tallstar hadn’t even realized he had overheard that conversation earlier.

“Very well, I will tell her. But let me tell you this Tigerstar,” he growls.

“I don’t care how many lives you have, you hurt any of those cats and I will tear every single one away from you one right after the other, until there is nothing left for the stars to judge.”

His cold amber eyes bore into the tabby toms soul as he leaves, “may Starclan be with you.”

He breaks into a whisper that us almost lost to the wind, “and guide your lost soul into the pits of darkness where it belongs.”

Chapter Text

Graystripe had felt fear in his life.

Like when he and Fireheart had taken on Brokentail’s gang as mere apprentices, or when Bluestar’s mind had started to rot, or when Silverstream… his precious Silverstream had died giving life to his kits.

Yet, it was here, with Tigerstar glaring down at him from beside Leopardstar that he felt a deep rooted horror spring to life within his chest. He felt Mistyfoot stiffen from her seat beside him as Leopardstar announced an alliance with Shadowclan, a partnership that would better both clans, make then stronger, better, superior.

He made eye contact with Stonefur, who was sitting stiffly at the base of the great rock beside Blackfoot, the toms pale blue eyes meeting his with a matching, barely concealed horror.

And he knew they were doomed.

Fireheart had felt happiness in her life.

Like when she had first felt at home in Thunderclan, curled in her new nest in the apprentice den with her two best friends beside her. Like when she had been granted her warrior’s name by the cat she had quickly grown to love like her own mother. Like when she had welcomed her kits into the world and breathed in their scent for the very first time, intertwining her tail with her mates.

She wished, now, that she had held on to that happiness tighter.

As she padded alone towards Four Trees, her friends waiting for her return, she pondered why she felt the need to speak the cat who was the very cause of her pain.

She had only just began to find happiness again in Windclan, finally began to feel like she could breath, like she could let her guard down and not find claws in her back as she did so.

She had just started to feel like she was home when Tallstar had returned with Tigerstar’s message.

She wondered, how even after everything he had done, she still couldn’t seem to let him go.

As the four great trees loomed before her, she preyed to Starclan that she find the closure she needs to finally move on.

Yet, the stars are as silent as ever.

When she saw him, her breathing stopped, and her movements came to a halt when his amber eyes bore into her own. The same eyes two of her precious kits carried.

“Tigerstar,” she meows, proud of the fact that her voice comes out strong and unwavering.

“Fireheart,” he responds, large claws digging into the soft soil.

For a moment, there is silence as the two study each other.

The toms dark stripes seem to seep into the shadows, dark clouds gathering at his paws whereas, her fur begins to burn like the fire she was named after, lit up by the many fallen of Silver pelt above them.

“Why did you call me here,” she finally asks, voice cracking.

Tigerstar’s ear twitches, “I missed you.”

“Did you? Did you really?" she meows, "if you truly missed me, you would have come back! But you left! No, if you truly missed me, you wouldn’t have done something that would have caused you to leave in the first place!” She spits, fur prickling causing her fire to ripple.

He steps closer, “I did it for you! I did it for Thunderclan! Bluestar is weak, surely you see that now!”

A growl picks up in her throat, the hearty rumble making the large toms paws falter.

“It was you who pushed her too her madness, I will forever blame you for the death of my mother.”

Tigerstar’s fur prickles but he forcibly makes it flatten. “Please,” he meows, voice soft and manipulative like honey. “Let us not fight tonight, let us just remember.”

Fireheart hesitantly sits down, wary eyes trained on the tom like a piece of prey she was hunting.

“Tell, tell me about our kits?” He asks, sitting down a bit away from her, still too close for her comfort.

“They are doing well,” she speaks, her voice growing warm with fondness.

“Bramblepaw managed to catch his first rabbit yesterday and Squirrelpaw and Tawnypaw mastered this impressive duo move together.”

Her eyes soften as she gazes into the distance, unaware of Tigerstar’s eyes boring into her soul. “Admittedly, I don’t understand much of what Leafpaw talks about aside from the basics, but her knowledge of herbs and healing practices is growing quickly, Barkface is very proud of her, I can tell. We all are.”

She startles when she feels the tom settle in beside her, his fur meshing with hers in a swirl of dark and light.

“What are you doing?” she growls, as she begins to stand.

He nudges her back down, “please, stay with me. Just for tonight? I’ve missed you.”

It was with the warmth pulsating from his side and his eyes drawing her in that she lays back down beside him, memories of when they used to cuddle and talk beneath the great oak together before he was exiled.

Back when the two of them used to laugh and joke and play together, acting as if they were kits again. Back when she looked at him and he looked at her and the judgement of her clanmates felt so far away.

Back when she had never felt so loved.

She stays.

The two lay curled around each other, breathing in sync.

‘For the first time in a long time, she is warm,’ she notes, as his tongue rhythmically grooms her fur.

She is drawn from her thoughts when he stops. “Tigerstar?”

“Come with me,” he meows, deep voice resonating within her.

“What? Tigerstar, I-”

“Bring the kits and come with me to Shadowclan,” he begs, “we can be a family again. The kits can be safe and grow up to be strong warriors, you can be by my side, and we can rule the forest as one! Come with me!”

Fireheart stills, her heart pounding wildly.

“I can’t,” she chokes out, scrambling to her paws and away from him. “I can’t.”

How could she have forgotten who she was laying with? This tom had killed so many and would continue to do so until he got what he wanted. How could she have let herself down again?

Tigerstar got to his paws also, staring intently at her. “And why not?” He demanded, tension causing his fur to spike.

“Because you’re a murderer! A traitor!”

“I was doing what was best for the clan!” He growled.

She unsheathed her claws. “No! You were doing what was best for yourself! Did you even pause to think?” She yowled.

He said nothing, just a confused look in his eyes.

She shuddered, “of course you didn’t,” she meowed, disappointedly. “Of course, you didn’t think. Didn’t think of how they would react to me baring a traitor’s kits! Oh, the kits! Your son has your pelt! Thunderclan sees your shadow in his smile! Leafkit has your eyes! The clan would hiss when she looked at them! They have your blood in them and because of it they were shunned!"

"Did you even think how your actions would affect them!?” She gasped, tears falling form her eyes leaving dark rivers in her fur.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes.

She shakes her head, keeping her voice low “no you aren’t.”

“I am,” he insists, taking a step forward, large paws leaving grooves in the ground where they once were. Paws that her kits would have to grow to fill if they ever wished to escape his legacy.

“I am,” he repeats when she doesn’t answer, eyes earnest and insistent.

“Maybe,” she concludes, giving slightly. “But not for what you should be,” she holds firm.

“You’re not sorry for killing Redtail, or Lionheart, or Swiftclaw.You’re not sorry for crippling Cinderheart or scarring Cloudtail and Brightheart. You’re not sorry for betraying Thunderclan or for betraying me."

"You say that you love me? You only love me for what I could have done for you but not who I am.”

At this point, she was done, her voice taught with agony and shame. She had never felt so disgusted with herself.

The clearing was silent.

“I loved you,” she finally murmured, tail low, tired and hurting.

“No, I love you,” she corrects, looking up to meet his stunned amber eyes. “But I can’t anymore. And neither can you.”

With that, she turned and walked away like she should have done all those moons ago and as she expected, however much it hurt her, he didn’t follow.

As he stalks back to the Riverclan camp alone, his blood boils in fury.

He had given her everything and still she rejected him!?

He would have been the greatest leader of all time! Would have brought Thunderclan back to the golden ages if it weren’t for her!

He spits, a growl shuddering in his chest, no matter. Once he has taken control of the clans and removed his temporary allies, she will see that her true place is at his side, with their kits. He will ensure it.

His nose picks up on a scent suddenly as he walks, and his eyes widen in surprise then delight at what he sees.

“Well now, what are you three doing outside of the camp this late at night?” He purrs, enjoying the terror in their eyes at the sight of him.

Yes, he muses, perhaps this was for the best. Now, he can even more quickly secure his control over Riverclan and it won’t be long before the others fall beneath him.

After all, with Riverclans deputy and two of their warriors as traitors, it would be an easy push to convince the others to fall into line behind him.

As he stares into the startling blue eyes of Stonefur, he smirks.

Yes. Soon, he promises himself, soon it will all fall into place.

Chapter Text

Fireheart smiled down at her kindly, a warm, proud glow in her eyes as she rested her tail on Leafpaw’s shoulder. “You’ll do fine,” she promised, dragging the tip of her tail down her daughters spine, “you’ll be alright, I promise, okay?”

Leafpaw nodded wordlessly, her ears pressed against her head while her paws churned the earth in anxiety. This would be her first trip to the Moonstone, the moment where she finds out once and for all if she can be a medicine cat.

Bramblepaw, sensing her nerves, leaned up against her in comfort and she relished in his support. She bit back a grin as the displeased faces of her sisters flew through her mind when they were taken out on patrol instead of being allowed to wish her off, so was the life of a warrior.

“You ready?” Barkface meowed, padding up to stop beside her.

Leafpaw drew in a breath before nodding, Starclan would have to accept her! They had too!

They walked in silence towards High Rocks as was custom on an apprentices first night.

Barkface had drilled her prior on the way a medicine cat apprentice was supposed to conduct themselves on their acceptance night and she had paid studious attention to all his words, fearful to give Starclan any more reasons to reject her.

For as similar as the clans were, they had their own way of doing things but this part remained the same. She would walk in silence.

‘The silence was supposed to ready her for Starclan’s presence, it would give her a chance to focus on her thoughts and her feelings so that she may be ready to encounter them,’ Barkface had said. ‘It will give you time to ruminate on your decision so that you may be sure that your paws are on the right path. It will be your first trial of acceptance.’

She had been very young at the time, but she remembered Cinderheart, then Cinderpaw coming home from her acceptance ceremony, baring her new name and status with a fierce, hard-earned pride.

While not permitted to say much, the ways of the medicine cat being sacred and only to be shared amongst their fellows, when she and her sister lay withering away in the Thunderclan nursery, Cinderheart had woven together stories of what she could say, stories of the glorious Moonstone. A massive rock buried deep within the heart of the earth that glowed like all the stars in the sky combined. How she had whispered her new name into the quiet air around her and felt all of Starclan call it back.

She wonders, how it might have been had she stayed in Thunderclan. She would have been Cinderhearts apprentice, would have trained under their rules and her tutelage.

Or maybe, she would have stayed a warrior apprentice, without that final push to set her paws on the right path.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost see a different version of herself, older, wiser, sitting beside a glowing pool of light, a proud smile on her face.

But when she blinked, the image was gone and before her stood the mouth of Highstones, Mothersmouth.

“Be calm,” Barkface murmured from beside her, “and let Starclan guide your path.”

Leafpaw glanced behind him, spotting the other medicine cats waiting patiently for her to guide them as was custom.

She swallowed nervously, while the walk was the first step of reflection and she had clearly passed if her being here was any answer, it was not the final step. She had two more trials to make it through before she could truly be declared a medicine cat apprentice.

‘The second trial is called the guide. You will be responsible for leading us through the tunnels and towards the Moonstone. It will be dark, so you will have to rely on Starclan and your own instincts to guide you. Follow the pull inside you. If you fail, we will be forbidden from speaking with Starclan until the next half moon.’

With a deep breath, she thought to her mother and her littermates waiting for her back at camp. They had faith in her, her friends had faith in her, she just needed to have faith in herself.

With steady paws, she padded into the cave, the group getting to their paws and following her as one by one they were swallowed by darkness.

It was dark.

She couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed and if it weren’t for the soft breathing of the cats behind her, she would have thought herself dead.

Her pawsteps echoed off the stones, the pathway twisting and turning without any sense of reason, scrambling her senses. Time seemed inconsequential.

At first, she held hope but that quickly dwindled as no matter which turn she took, she found herself no closer to her desired destination.

Her breathing quickened, had she been her for mere minutes or days? When did it get so quiet? Were the walls closing in on her?!

Her breath felt hot on her face as she came to a stop, everything falling away from her as her mind spiralled, tears running down her face as her fear scent spiked.

“I-I can’t, I can’t do this.”

She turned to face Barkface, eyes pleading but fell short when she saw nothing behind her, her heart dropping when she realized that she had failed.

With breathy gasps and hot tears running down her face, she tried to follow her trail back but the scent was already fading. She could faintly hear the medicine cats talking ahead and finding some residual strength within her limbs, she started to run, colliding blindly with the walls as she followed the sound, her eyes frantically scanning the darkness for some sign of hope.

After what felt like hours, she came to a sudden stop when her the ground vanished from under her paws and she fell down into a deep hole in the earth. Her heart beating frantically in her chest as the sounds of the medicine cats grew fainter.

With a burning desire to live, her claws scratched frantically at the walls, not even wincing as one was torn out by the harsh stone. Her claws did nothing but faintly scar the walls of the tunnels and she realised it was truly helpless.

It felt like the walls were closing in on herself, her mind scrambling for purchase on the hard rock as she lowered herself to the ground. The darkness was so quiet that all she could hear  was her own heartbeat thumping in her chest, it coming to a stop when she realised that she had been abandoned here to die.

She had failed, she was lost and now she was going to die here, alone in the darkness of the earth. Her skeleton will forever be a blockade in the tunnels, never to feel sunlight or see her loved ones again.

Her heartbreaking wails echoed eerily in the cavernous walls as she called for someone to save her.

Distinctly, she realised that no one was coming.

The words of her mentor coming back to her when he had first spoken to her in private about her path.

“Medicine cats walk a lonely path. They can have no kin, no mates, no kits. They are dedicated solely to the clan and the clan to them. They are impartial. They are loved by all but loved by no one. To be a medicine cat, you must be ready to give up on what you love in order to save it. Can you do that?”

Back then, she thought she had understood. She knew medicine cats were forbidden from having a mate and kits, but never before had the gravity of that statement truly hit her.

If she were to die here, no one would come for her. Because the lives of many must be put before the life of one.

If it came down to it, she would have to let her littermates die in order to save the rest of her clan.

She would have to reject her own kin so that the whole of Windclan may become her kin.

She must walk alone so that they don’t have too.

“Medicine cats walk apart from our clans, it is the way of the seers. But do not fear, for we are not truly alone. Starclan, our ancestors, guide our path so that when we feel weak, they may grant us the strength to do what is necessary. If in doubt, trust in the stars to light your path.”

With a heavy heart, the tabby shecat got to her paws. She gulped in a breath of air, and as she let it out, she released her worries and asked for the stars to be with her.

If she is destined to die here, then so be it. She will guide her family, her clan, whether that be from beside them or from the stars.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, before starting when she feels a faint tugging come from her chest.

Opening her eyes, the feeling vanished and with a weary heart, she knew what she had to do.

With her eyes closed, she focused back in on that tugging in her chest.

And began to walk.

“Well done,” Barkface meowed.

Her eyes flew open, and she started when she realised that she could now see, however faintly.

A quick glance around revealed a hole in the stone ceiling that allowed in some light, just enough to make out the forms of the medicine cats around her, a massive rock sitting in the middle.

Cinderheart met her gaze, the shecats pale blue eyes glowing with a foreign light as they gazed at her with pride.

Barkface moved to stand before the great stone, the tom turning to her, eyes alit with that some foreign light. “Leafpaw, is it your wish to enter the mysteries of Starclan as a medicine cat?”

With a quiet confidence in her that she was making the right choice, she answered. “It is.”

“Then come forward.” She padded towards him, the medicine cats parting to allow her entry. She could feel their anticipation as she came to a stop at the large tom’s paws.

“Warriors of Starclan, I present you with this apprentice. They have chosen the path of a medicine cat. Grant them your wisdom and insight so that they may understand your ways and heal their Clan in accordance with your will.”

At the end of his words, the moon aligned with the gap in the stone and she lost her breath when the rock bloomed to life with a brilliant white glow, bathing the clearing in light, the same light she saw in the eyes of the medicine cats. She had never seen anything so beautiful before in her life.

“The third test, is different for everyone and you are not permitted to speak of it, not even to me. It will be your hardest trial but overcome it, and you will be granted access to the stars and their eternal guidance. For this, you must have the upmost faith in yourself and your own strength.”

He looked at her, young and naïve but so hopelessly bright, and told her, “know yourself.”

With his words ringing in her eyes, she touched her nose to the stone and knew no more.

When she woke, she was different. Confused, she glanced around and spotted her mother asleep behind her.

“Leafkit! Your awake!”

“Huh?” she meowed, lost beyond words.

Squirrelpaw stared at her gleefully from the other side of the nest. “You’ve been sleeping silly! But now your awake and we can play again!”

“Play, Squirrelpaw, whats going on?” Squirrelpaw laughed, “I’m not Squirrelpaw! I’m Squirrelclaw! The best warrior of Thunderclan!”

“And I’m Bramblestar! The leader!” Her brother, her much younger brother, proudly proclaimed, the same childish grin on his face.

“Where!? What!? Where’s mother? And Morningflower? And Gorsepaw? And Crowkit? Why aren’t we in Windclan?”

“Wow,” Tawnypaw, no, Tawnykit meowed, “you must have had a really wild dream, huh!”

Leafpaw flattened her ears, eyes darting around nervously, “what? What do you mean? Why are we in Thunderclan?!”

Bramblekit and Squirrelkit started giggling as Tawnykit padded over and poked her gently on the nose, “cause Thunderclan’s our home, duh!”

Fireheart stirred behind her, her mother’s bright ginger coat waving in the sunlight as she stretched and let out a loud yawn. Blinking tiredly, she gazed down at her kits with eyes full of love, “good morning, you four. Why don’t we head outside now that I’m awake.”

Leafpaw felt chills go down her spine as her mother nudged her from the nest and outside the nursery. It felt surreal, to be back. It felt like nothing had changed. Nothing except for her. Surely, it can’t have all been a dream?

“Come on, Leafkit! Let’s go play!” Squirrelkit yelled, rushing past her, their other littermates close on her tail. With a nudge from her mother, she hesitantly padded over, blinking twice when she spotted two more kits outside wrestling with a moss ball.

“Leafkit!” The dark tabby kit exclaimed, getting to her paws, “you’re awake! Finally! Come on, Cloudpaw and Swiftpaw taught me and Snowkit a new battle move!”

Bramblekit pranced around her excitedly, “really! You’ve got to show us Mistlekit! Please!” Leafpaw freezing in fear as she was finally able to place who the two kits were.

The older kit pretended to consider it before relenting, “ok! Snowkit, lets show them!” The white tom had been sitting quietly beside his much larger, louder sister, but at her gentle tap, he turned to face her and with an understanding look flooding his eyes, he got into position.

The two kits faced each other without moving before Snowkit leapt into the air, aiming for his sisters back. Just before he landed, Mistlekit leapt back and the small tom tumbled onto the ground, flailing helplessly as Mistlekit jumped forward again to squash him beneath her.

“Woah!” Squirrelkit cheered, “that was so cool! Do it again!”

Mistlekit laughed and Snowkit scrambled from out under her and shoved her with one paw, a soft smirk on his face as she stumbled.

“Ok, then you can try-”

Whatever she was going to say next was cut off as dark clouds quickly formed over the camp, the scent of rain washing over her muzzle.

“That’ll have to wait till later,” Fireheart meowed, padding over, her tail wrangling her littermates towards her, “its time to get into the nursery.”

Leafpaw could smell the fear scent coming off her mother in waves, her fur was bristled and sharp as she was tucked under her away from the spitting sky.

“May all cats old enough to hunt their own prey, gather here for a clan meeting!”

Fireheart froze as the rest of the clan suddenly gathered, forming a semi-circle around them, leaving them alone in the middle.

Leafpaw felt chilled at all the eyes boring into her. She turned to face Mistlekit and Snowkit but the two were gone, leaving nothing but empty space in their wake.

“Starclan has spoken,” Bluestar howled, her voice mixing with the growing rain. “If we are to survive, we must put out the fire and all its sparks! We must stop the flames! We must destroy the traitors before they destroy us!”

Leafpaw stared at her in horror as she realised that she was right back where it started, right where it all went wrong.

“Bluestar!” Her mother cried, eyes wide with fear as Leafpaw and her littermates huddled around her legs, the cheers of their supposed clanmates ringing in her ears. “Please! Don’t do this! We’ll leave! Just please! Spare my kits!”

Bluestar stared down at her coldly, ice growing from where she sat, melting and turning the land around them into mush as the rain continued to flood the camp. “We must bring back balance,” she whispered, all traces of sanity gone. “We must have justice!”

With a final howl, the storm broke and rain crashed down around them.

“KITTYPETS!” “TAINTED BLOOD!” “MURDERERS!”

Harsh, grated words flew through her ears as she found her former clanmates glaring down at her. Bluestar herself, looked deranged and feral, a burning hatred in her eyes as she crowed loudly from her place on High Rock, “TRAITORS! THIEVES! MURDERERS! THEY MUST PAY FOR THEIR CRIMES!”

Her clanmates turned to face her, their claws unsheathed and fangs dripping with spit and blood.

The tabby backed away from their menacing approach only to feel something wet slosh against her legs. She stared down in stark horror as bright red blood stained the whites of her paws.

Spinning round, she felt a wail rise in her throat as she spotted her mother, lying on her side, her brilliant green eyes glazed over and her body still. Nestled to her side, their pelts soaked with rain, lay Tawnykit and Bramblekit, blood still dripping from their wounds.

“Leafkit!”

At the cry of her sister, she jerked around to see the camp gone and Squirrelkit hanging on desperately to a branch that wrestled with the wild flood waters around them. The constant rain making her look even smaller then before. With a heart lunching leap, she grabs her sister just as the branch breaks, heaving her back to safety with all the strength she has left. As she does so, she notes with distant horror that the flood waters run red with blood.

“Leafkit?” Squirrelkit whimpers, huddling close to her, “I’m scared.” Leafpaw wraps herself around her sister, shaking but trying to remain calm as she attempts to stem the blood. “So am I,” she whispers.

“Leafkit, tell me that there will be a happy ending to this story?” She asks, a face so much like their mothers that Leafpaw breaks, tears spilling over as she promises, even as blood continues to fall from the sky around.

“You’ll be ok,” she soothes, even as her sisters breathing stills, “I’ve got you.”

“It’ll all be ok.”

“Leafpaw, you have done well,” a soft voice praises, “you can wake now.”

She jerks awake with a gasp, twisting around searching for her littermates but stilling when she realises that the bloodied camp ground is gone, replaced by a lush forest speckled with stars.

Remembering the voice, she turned to see an unfamiliar tortoiseshell shecat with brilliant amber eyes, filled with the same bright starry light of the other medicine cats. If she could have seen her reflection, she would have seen the same glow coming from herself.

“Who-who are you?” She meows once she’s found her voice.

The shecats eyes soften, “you wouldn’t remember me, I died before you were born. My name is Spottedleaf, I was the medicine cat of Thunderclan before Yellowfang.”

Leafpaw stares at her with awe, “does-does this mean this is Starclan? I passed?”

Spottedleaf dipped her head, “you did,” she confirms. Leafpaw lets out a sigh of relief, a shiver wracking through her at the memories of what she had to go through to get here.

“Then- what was I supposed to learn from that!?” She meows, staring at the former med cat, defiance in her every move as pain and hurt floods her gaze. The tortoiseshell shecat sighs, "you must learn that some things are outside of your control. Death is a part of life." 

Leafpaw freezes, "that-that can't be right! Medicine cats are supposed to heal! That's the job!" 

Spottedleaf gazes at her sadly, "some things just cannot be healed. Trying to save everyone can just make things worse. It has driven lessor cats mad."

Leafpaw growls in frustration, adrenaline still running through her blood and sharpening her words, "then what happens now!?"

Spottedleaf meets her gaze evenly, “whatever you decide happens.”

At her cryptic words, Leafpaw tries to move closer but fails to as everything around her starts to blur away, her body falling back into waking.

Before she can even cry out, a sharp, hollow voice pierces her eardrums and sends a wave of pain through her body.

“FOUR WILL BECOME TWO, LION AND TIGER WILL MEET IN BATTLE, AND BLOOD WILL RULE THE FOREST.”

Chapter Text

Stonefur stared into the cold eyes of his leader and felt a deep-rooted hatred stir in his blood.

‘This? This was the cat he would have given his life for?!’ He had served faithfully as her deputy in the moons following Crookedstar’s death and at the whim of the Thunderclan traitor, she turned on him.

“Well, what do you have to say for yourselves, my ‘loyal’ deputy?”

Stonefur’s lip peeled back in a snarl that grew louder when he saw Tigerstar’s cronies drag Graystripe and Mistyfoot into the clearing beside him. His sister, his wonderful, brave, sister, moved to watch his back, claws unsheathed as various Shadowclan and Riverclan warriors stalked circles around them.

He could spot her son, his nephew, Reedwhisker, watching with wide eyes as his mother and uncle were shoved together roughly by their supposed clanmates. He made to approach but was held back by his father, Mistyfoot staring at him with pain-filled eyes as he was forced to watch on helplessly.

“I have nothing to say to that filthy rouge! I fight for Riverclan! Not whatever mess you have created.”

Leopardstar growled lowly, “bold words from a traitor. I had thought better from such a brilliant Riverclan warrior. Very well, you have made your nest, now you must lie in it.”

Tigerstar padded forward, amber eyes cunning and glowing with mirth. “I believe I have a suitable punishment in mind,” he meowed, Leopardstar dipping her head in respect as he took the lead.

Stonefur’s growl picked up a notch when several former rouges and Shadowclan warriors circled them, occasionally getting close enough to slash with a claw or bite then jump back out of reach. He winced when a particularly brave strike tore a gash in his shoulder but he remained firm, standing with his sister and friend at his back, eyes locked on Leopardstars.

A voice rose above all the others, silencing the gathered cats.

“OAkheart! What ArE you DoiNG!”

The grey tom froze when he saw his mother, greying and frail, staring with clouded, angry eyes at Tigerstar. The old shecat stumbled forward out of the elders den, cats leaping out of her way as she made her way towards the Shadowclan leader.

“What are you doing with my kits!?” She hissed.

Tigerstar stared at her impassively, his large frame dwarfing the elderly shecat. “Your ‘kits’ are traitors and must be punished,” he meowed, before turning to ignore her.

Graypool growled, “Oakheart! Our kits are not traitors! I know they hold not my blood but they are good cats, Riverclan cats!”

At her words, the clearing fell still and silent as the elder’s lost mind continued to ramble.

Stonefur felt his sister’s breath hitch from beside him, his own mind churning. 'What was she talking about?!'

The cats circling them stopped as Tigerstar turned to consider her with interest. “What do you mean by ‘not our blood’?”

She stared at him confused, “what do you mean, Oakheart? You should know what I mean? You brought them to me afterall.”

Stonefur made to call out to her, to warn her that the tom was not Oakheart but was silenced by a claw slashing towards his face. “Silence, while our leader is speaking,” the rouge hissed, claws digging roughly into Stonefur’s head as the larger tom pushed him down. Mistyfoot and Graystripe remained still in shock as Stonefur’s struggles lessoned, the tom taking in deep breaths when the rouge finally backed off.

Tigerstar was circling Graypool with interest. “Where did I get them from? Pray, remind me?”

The silvery shecat turned to follow his movements, stumbling slightly from confusion when her clanmates refused to meet her gaze. “When you brought them to me?"

"From Thunderclan.”

Stonefur froze from where he had been struggling to regain his footing at the words that come from his mothers’ mouth. “What?” He whispered, eyes wide as the clan turned to stare at him.

Tigerstar smiled, “take these half-clan traitors to the pit where they belong. It is clear that their loyalty is too divided. For Tigerclan to survive, we need pure warriors, not half-clan filth.”

The clans roared their approval as the three were dragged away by Shadowclan warriors.

Stonefur could only stare at his former clanmates and his mother in shock and pain at their betrayal.

Graypool twisted round, confusion on her face as her clanmates started calling for blood. When she saw Mistyfoot and Stonefur being dragged off, a wail rose from her that chilled the air. “Wait!? Stop! What are you doing with my kits!?”

Her cries snapped Stonefur from his frantic thoughts as he turned towards the cat who raised him, shoving at the warriors who had barricaded his way.

"Mother!”

Graypool tried to push towards him, Mistyfoot and Graystipe fighting at his side to get to her. Graypool turned to Tigerstar with wide eyes. “OAKHEART! PLEASE! DON’T TAKE MY KITS!”

Tigerstar’s growl thundered around the clearing, “take the traitors away.” A warrior with jagged teeth dug them into his shoulder, dragging him back. He heard his sister cry out in pain as they were all but herded away from camp.

“STOP! STOP IT!” Graypool cried, finally flinging herself at Tigerstar with all the desperation and fear a worried mother can hold. The tabby let out a pained hiss as her claws scoured his side.

“ENOUGH!” He belted, swatting her with a large paw, throwing her against the rocks. She collapsed with a thud and didn’t get back up.

“MOTHER!” He cried, thrashing desperately against the paws restraining him. “MOTHER!”

His eyes searched for Leopardstar’s desperately but the golden shecat only stared back with a final judgement.

They were on their own.

Chapter Text

“Careful,” the large tom hisses, “it’s slippery.”

A shecat slipped up to stand beside him, licking the younger shecats’ ears in comfort, her single eye squinted from the flecks of water thrown about by the raging river around them. “It’s okay,” she sooths, “just watch where you land.”

“We don’t have time for this,” another tom growls, “move it!”

The shecat shoots him a glare before nudging the apprentice forward. “Just two more stones,” she murmurs.

Just as she’s about to jump, yowls break out from behind them.

“Foxdung,” the gray tom spat, “they’ve noticed. We need to go. Now!”

The group continues across the rocks, as the cries of anger build up behind them.

“Come on, Featherpaw! Last jump!” The small shecat hesitates and that moment is all they needed for warriors to break from the bushes behind them.

“THERE THEY ARE! GET THEM BEFORE THEY CROSS!”

“Enough of this,” Cloudtail growls, grabbing Featherpaw by her scruff and leaping desperately for the shore, her weight throwing him off.

For a second, his legs scramble helplessly in the water, Featherpaw practically catatonic in his grip, before his paws manage to heave him onto the bank. His scarred back heaving as he drops the apprentice safetly on the bank.

Brightheart jumps and lands beside him, quickly followed by Graystripe carrying Stormpaw in a similar grip. His unnaturally skinny flanks heaving.

Cloudtail looks back to watch Mistyfoot and Stonefur cross.

Eyes locked on the two blue furred cats in the middle of the raging river.

The rouges had reached the edge of the water now, one making an attempt for the stones landing with a wobble. More quickly follow.

“Hurry!” Graystripe hisses, guarding his kits with his eyes locked on the approaching cats.

Mistyfoot staggers, exhaustion showing in her thin face but with a nudge from her brother, jumps, only stumbling slightly. With one more jump, she makes it to the shore, Brightheart lurching forward to drag her solidly onto dry land. The queen nudges her in thanks, relief shining in her eyes.

Stonefur, fur thin and patchy makes for his third jump only for a terrified cry to break out as a pale tom leaps for him but misses, legs dangling in the water with his claws sunk deep into Stonefur’s side.

“STONEFUR!” Mistyfoot cries, attempting to jump back to aid her brother.

“Let go!” Stonefur grunts, claws digging into the stone in an attempt to hold on against the battering waves.

Before she can make more than one leap back, Stonefur’s grip slips and the two vanish beneath the waves with a terrified cry. “STONEFUR!”

Cloudtail and Graystripe halt Mistyfoot from following, the rouges still staring in horror at the waves as no one emerges.

“Stop! Wait!” A massive black and white patched tom with a scarred face halts the procession of cats. “We can’t cross that,” he spat. “Let them go, before we all end up like Frost... We can deal with them later.”

Several of the cats trade looks but back away. “You win this time clan cats! But Bloodclan will always have the final victory!” He spat, before leading his cats back into Riverclan territory.

“Stonefur,” Mistyfoot whispers, eyes staring heartbreakingly at the river, looking for any sign of her brother.

“Stonefur…”

“I’m sorry you can’t come to the gathering,” Squirrelpaw meows, staring sadly at Gorsepaw.

“It’s fine,” the young tom responds, cheerfully. “I’ll live, besides,” he meows, gazing down at his cobwebbed injuries, “I doubt I’d make it there before the gathering was over anyway. Least this way, you can bring me back all the exciting news and I get to sleep in!”

Squirrelpaw purrs in enthusiasm, paws kneading the ground as her excitement grew. This would be her and her littermates first gathering! Much later then it would normally happen, but she wasn’t going to complain. (Much.)

She knew that both Fireheart and Barkface had been hesitant to let them attend but Deadfoot and Tallstar stated that it would send a message that they were part of Windclan now and eventually, the two had conceded. Secretly, Squirrelpaw wondered if her leaders were scared of an attack at the gathering.

It was no secret that tensions had been high between the four clans. Skirmishes with Thunderclan had become even more common and between that and the alliance between Riverclan and Shadowclan, she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. Something big was coming, she was sure of it.

“Squirrelpaw!” Her mentor, Tornear, called for her.

Gorsepaw gave her a gentle nudge with his forehead, the tabby tom grinning up at her, bringing her back from her thoughts. “Don’t forget to bring me back the news, and a nice fat rabbit too while you’re at it,” he meowed, cheekily.

She scoffed, whacking him gently with a white paw, “get your own rabbits, you big lump. You’re not that weak.”

She waved goodbye with her tail to his laughter and trotted over to her mentor. Tornear gazed down at her, worry barely concealed in his eyes.

She brushed against the grey tom’s side as she neared, “we leaving yet?”

“Almost,” he answered, eyes flicking forward to where his leader stood waiting. She stared at him open mouthed, “why call for me if we’re not leaving yet!?” He flicked her ear with his tail, “because if I didn’t, you’d be running to the gathering on your own because you got left behind.”

Tawnypaw snorted as she approached the pair from behind, Robinwing behind her. “We’re Windclan, I think we’d catch up just fine.”

Squirrelpaw shot her mentor a triumphant look, “see! Someone believes in me.” The scarred warrior just rolls his eyes affectionately, “sure thing kit.” He chuckles at her affronted look but is cut off by a sharp caterwaul.

“Windclan, to me!” He stood, making sure she was beside him as he did so, the serious look returning to his face, “let’s go.”

Squirrelpaw couldn’t help but wonder if this was a good idea as she got swept up by her clanmates, regardless, it was time for the gathering.

The clearing was much larger than she had expected, already, Tallstar was up on the Great Rock, his black and white form merging with the surrounding night. At the base, she spotted her sister and Barkface sitting with Cinderheart, the young medicine cat laughing at something Leafpaw said. Squirrelpaw thought briefly about joining them but was halted by Tornear, her mentor staring at her in concern.

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking warily around them. At the moment, only Thunderclan, Riverclan, and Windclan were here. Shadowclan was late, and it seemed like not even the Riverclan cats knew why. She didn’t like what that meant.

“I’m fine, just surprised. There’s so much space and so many cats.” Tornear purred in amusement, “I understand. I was overwhelmed at my first gathering too. I’m pretty sure everyone is.”

He nudged her gently towards a group of apprentices, her other littermates included. “Just remember, tonight is the chance to get to speak to other clans.”

“I’ve already spoken to another clan,” she shot back.

He flicked her gently, “cheeky.” She grinned. “Just remember what we talked about, don’t give away our secrets, learn-”

“Learn what you can and don’t piss of the warriors, got it.”

He sighed, looking up like Starclan could give him the patience. “So crude, fine, off you go. You know where to find me.”

She smiled, feeling a little guilty at the amount of sass she was giving him. She gave him a quick headbutt and smiled when she felt him purr. “Go on then.”

With a last flick on the nose, he sauntered off after his mate, Thrushwing, leaving her to scramble after her littermates.

Bramblepaw spotted her first, his tail raising with excitement to beckon her over. “Squirrelpaw! There you are! Come meet Swallowpaw and Dawnpaw!”

She sauntered over, excited to finally meet more cats from other clans. Tawnypaw scooted over to make room for her, leaning back against her side when she sat down. She merely wrapped her tail around her, knowing her sisters’ thin fur would be nothing against the cold chill of the night, her own fluff protecting her well.

She eyed the cats her brother had mentioned, Bramblepaw, the social butterfly he was becoming, taking the lead.

“The dark tabby is Swallowpaw and the grey shecat is Dawnpaw, they’re from Riverclan” he introduced. “Dawnpaw, Swallowpaw, this is my other sister Squirrelpaw.”

“Wow! So many sisters! Your outnumbered, Bramblepaw!” Swallowpaw joked.

Bramblepaw shrugged bashfully, “wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Dawnpaw tilted her head curiously, “now I recognise you lot! You’re Firehearts kits, right? You look just like her but darker.” The trio shared a look of surprise at being recognised, “yeah, that’s us,” Tawnypaw meowed, eyeing the other shecat.

Dawnpaw saw the looks and blushed, “sorry, this is only my second gathering but you lot were all the news last time I was here. I suppose its just strange to actually meet you.” She lifted her head curiously, making eye contact with Bramblepaw. “I thought there was four of you?”

Squirrelpaw answered, “yeah, our sister Leafpaw. She’s Barkface’s apprentice so she’s up with the other medicine cats right now.”

Dawnpaw’s eyes widened, “they let her be a medicine cat?! What about Thunderclan and your father?! He and Leopardstar-”

Swallowpaw chose that moment to whack her, “Dawnpaw! You can’t just say stuff like that!”

The older apprentice eyed the younger three suspiciously. “Sorry about her, like she said, this is only her second gathering. I, meanwhile, will get my warrior name soon! That said, we must be off, Shadowclan should be here soon, and I want to get a good seat for the gathering.”

The older shecat practically dragged the younger apprentice away, Dawnpaw shooting her an angry look like the shecat stole her prey as she did so.

“Pretty sure that’s what Tornear meant when he said don’t spill any clan secrets,” Squirrelpaw eventually meowed, to break the silence.

Tawnypaw moved closer to her, “yeah, well, I don’t like it, what’s Leapardstar got to do with our dad anyway?”

Bramblepaw tensed up, drawing his sisters’ attention. “I think we’re about to find out, Shadowclan just arrived.”

The trio hurried over to where their mentors and mother had stopped talking, Whitetail shuffling aside so she could sit beside Tornear, right at the base of the Great Rock. She blinked gratefully at the white shecat, smiling at her mother who took a seat beside Bramblepaw before she caught sight of the swarm of Shadowclan cats breaking into the clearing like a cloud overtaking the sun.

Her eyes widened when she spotted the cat who had to be Shadowclan’s leader, the massive tom’s large striped form leading the surge of Shadowclan cats into the clearing.

She knew that this, was her father.

He had the same stripes that she recognised in Leafpaw and Bramblepaw’s pelts but still, something else about him was familiar. More then just a passing resemblence.

She may not be as calm and assured as Bramblepaw, or as quick and cunning as Tawnypaw and she was nowhere near Leafpaws quiet assurance, but she was stubborn and willy. She knew she recognised this cat from more than just stories. She just had to remember where…

Bluestar snorted as Tigerstar climbed the rock to stand beside the other leaders, “late as always,” she grumbled, side-eying the tom with disgust.

Leopardstar stepped forward, dipping her head politely to Tallstar. “While you have seniority, I request to speak first to pass on important news.”

Tallstar watched her with understanding, “very well. Know that he will be missed by all the clans.”

She nodded regally but Squirrelpaw could just about see the slight break in her composure. The unusually speckled shecat took to the front of the rock, commending attention.

“The gathering has begun. Riverclan will speak first. As you can probably tell, Crookedstar has joined Starclan. He was a brilliant and noble leader, and I am honoured to have been his deputy. I hope to serve my clan as well as he did.” She pauses to let the clans murmur their grief.

“Speaking of Riverclan, wonder if Featherpaw and Stormpaw are here?” Tawnypaw murmers into her ear, “can you see them from where your sitting? I forgot to ask Dawnpaw and Swallowpaw about them.”

Squirrelpaw scans the gathered Riverclan cats, looking for the two grey apprentices but frowns when she can’t spot them. “Must not have come to this gathering,” she murmurs back.

“Hush” Doespring hisses from behind them. The two sisters share guilty looks before refocusing on Leopardstar.

“Riverclan also mourns the loss of Greypool, she was a brilliant warrior and wonderful mother. We will remember her for her dedication to our clan.”

Bramblepaw tilts his head, glancing at his mother in confusion. “I didn’t think Greypool was that old?” Fireheart glances down at the three, sharing a concerned look with Tornear. “Sometimes accidents happen,” she murmurs, eyes returning to the Great Rock, but Squirrelpaw can see the tension building in her muscles.

As the gathering continued, Thunderclan eventually moving forward to speak, she gazes up at the cat who helped give her life. Straining, she desperately searches her brain for where she had seen the tom before. As his tail swished slowly across the ground, like Tawnypaws did when she was deep in thought, it hit her.

Faint memories of sneaking out of camp following a black striped cat danced in the back of her head. A deep crooning voice that droned on and on, settling deep into her bones, her and her littermates locked together in awe and a hint of fear.

Of Fireheart, their mother and her frantic worrying when they finally stumbled back into camp, lying and saying that they just wanted to see the territory. Her nose buried deep into her bushy fur before her eyes lit up with fear and longing. She saw something flash in them like lightning in the midst of a storm. She didn’t say anything else, just that she was glad they were safe and to never do it again.

Squirrelpaw looked back up at the tom with new eyes, she knew him.

Said tom stepped forward, tail stilling, taking over from Tallstar and the ginger shecat starts when she realised that she had completely missed what her leader said. Resolving to catch up from her littermates on the walk home for Gorsepaw’s sake, she focuses back on Tigerstar.

“Thank you for that,” Tigerstar meows, “I will ensure my warriors keep an eye out for any twolegs that dare intrude on our territory. Now, on to business. I demand that Thunderclan and Windclan join with the newly named Tigerclan for the sake of our collective survival.”

The gathering goes silent, the only noise being the wind rustling in the leaves, before the yelling starts.

“THAT IS RIDICULOUS!"

"THUNDERCLAN WON’T ALLY WITH TRAITORS!"

"THERE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN FOUR CLANS!"

"HOW DARE YOU!?"

Tigerstar doesn’t wait for the cats to stop wailing.

“ENOUGH! Aren’t you tired of cats needlessly dying when there is enough prey for us all! Aren’t you sick of fighting for the sole sake of fighting! Under Tigerclan, there can be peace and prosperity for us all!”

Tallstar eyes Tigerstar coldly, “there have always been four clans. I see no reason for that to change now.”

Tigerstar’s eyes narrow like a snakes, “you are old and have already been driven from your territory once, I doubt you want that to happen a second time.”

The long-tailed tom growls lowly, unsheathing his claws, “is that a threat?”

“Riverclan has already agreed to join Tigerclan,” Leopardstar announcing, drawing the attention away from the soon to be brawl.

Outrage breaks out below the Great Rock, Squirrelpaw can spot several Shadowclan and Riverclan warriors, including Dawnpaw, who don’t look so happy with the decision, but they stand together.

Tigerstar turns to address the clans, “between us, we can ensure the clans continued survival. We ask that Thunderclan and Windclan ally with us so that there may be peace.”

Bluestar hisses, insanity glowing in her eyes, and for once, Squirrelpaw is glad the blue shecat is angry. “Thunderclan has not made any attempts to join this traitor,” she announces, “we will never join you.” Thunderclan yowls their support.

Tallstar moves to stand beside Bluestar. “I will consult with my clan and give you our answer next moon,” he meows, diplomatic as ever but his eyes reveal his true intentions. He knows that Windclan will not join Tigerclan, and Tigerstar sees it too.

“Unfortunately,” he drawls, “this is a one time offer.”

Tallstar’s eyes narrowed, “then I’m afraid we’ll have to decline.”

Tigerstar grins, “what a shame. Now, how about I introduce some… motivation, that might change your mind. If you will,” he turned to someone behind him.

Squirrelpaws hackles rose as all around them, cats with fang-studded collars broke into the clearing, leaking out of the shadows like they were made of darkness. There were so many! Someone cried out in pain and another in fear while the clans were all but herded together.

Tigerstar laughed lowly, “Scourge, always one for dramatics.” A petite black tom with a single white paw padded daintily up beside Tigerstar, comically dwarfed by the larger tom.

Squirrelpaw felt her brother shudder in horror and felt her own fur rise when he whispered under his breath, “teeth, his collars covered in other cats’ teeth.” Tornear, Whitetail, and Fireheart moved to surround the apprentices, Tornear practically burying her as they tried to keep them out of sight.

She frantically scanned the crowded, rioting clearing, spotting Mudfur shoving Leafpaw and the other medicine cats into a hole in the rock with relief, the toms warrior training out on full display as he bit and clawed at any rouge that got to close.

More Rouges circled the clan cats like a cat waiting to pounce on its helpless prey. With a thrill of fear, Squirrelpaw realised they were the prey.

The sky grew darker as clouds covered the moon like a fresh blanket of snow over the forest floor, smothering its light. Ans yet, the growing darkness did nothing to stop the rouges.

A noise drew their attention back to the Great Rock where Tigerstar and the black tom were on a stand off between the other three leaders. She noted that even Leopardstar looks surprised by this despite the two clans so called alliance.

“Cats of the clans, meet Bloodclan. This is their leader, Scourge. He and I will rule this forest together. Now, we can do this peacefully, or we can take your clans by force. What do you choose?”

Tallstar and Leopardstar shared a look, a glint of horror has filled the new Riverclan leader’s eyes at the sight of her cats trapped together at the base of the stone with no escape route. If a fight broke out, some of them would make it back to camp but many would not.

“I thought we were leaders together,” Leopardstar meowed, staring disdainfully at Scourge. Tigerstar shrugged, “its just about power, dear. You’ll learn under out tutelage.”

She glared at him, “I wanted to join our clans together to save them! Not introduce a new plague of rouges on my cats. The forest isn’t big enough to support us and Bloodclan!”

Tigerstar frowned thoughtfully, “after we win, I suspect there will be plenty of prey left.” Her eyes widened in horror at the implication but one glance at her trapped cats kept her quiet.

Tigerstar turned his attention to the other two leaders. “So, changed your mind?”

Bluestar snapped, eyes glinting furiously as she spat at him, droplets dripping from his unflinching face. “Thunderclan will never join you, traitor!”

Tallstar stood beside her, “Windclan finds it in themselves to agree. Rouges have no place in the home of our ancestors.” Windclan and Thunderclan howled in agreement, Squirrelpaw kept quiet, eyes locked on the scene. That horrible feeling from earlier coming back full force.

Tigerstar’s eyes glinted dangerously, “very well, you have made your choice and now your blood will stain this rock forever. Bloodclan, attack.”

Nobody moves.

Tigerstar turns to Scourge angrily, eyes circling the clearing.

“Bloodclan! Attack!”

“They only listen to me,” the black tom murmured. He opened his eyes, the icy-blue a vast contrast to Tigerstar’s burning amber. “They are loyal only to me and I see no reason to attack yet.”

Tigerstar’s fur bristled, his large, infamous claws digging into the stone. “I said attack! I am in charge here! I brought you to this forest so you will listen to me!”

The large toms bluster did nothing to deter Scourge, the tom’s tail merely flicking lightly behind him like an unspoken signal, the rouges circling in closer in response. “We chose to come here. You do not own us. We come and go as we please and this, this does not please me. Bloodclan, lets go.”

He turned to leave, and Tigerstar broke. With a roar, the tom lunched at the smaller toms retreating back, a desperation in his movements and Squirrelpaw closed her eyes, knowing he stood no chance against her father’s brutality.

There was no screech. No cry of pain. Just the sound of a slash and a body falling to the floor. Then this awful gurgling sound.

The hissing and growling that had been going on around them fell silent.

She opened her eyes to her mothers scream as Tigerstar’s body fell prone to the floor. Twitching then falling still then twitching again.

“Great Starclan,” Tornear breathed, “he’s dying nine times over.”

Scourge looked impassively at the dark tom’s body as it finally drew still.

Squirrelpaw shared a horrified look with her littermates as their father struggled to draw breath. His cold amber eyes locking onto their mothers green as he finally stopped shuddering.

“Tigerstar is dead,” a Shadowclan apprentice, she remembers being called Rowanpaw, whispers.

The whispers rise.

“TIGERSTAR IS DEAD!”

Scourge steps over the body without a care, ignoring the other leaders who stare at him in horror. From the front of the rock, Squirrelpaw can see with a cold realisation that settled over her like a blanket of ice, the tom’s reinforced claws that killed a clan leader with a single blow.

“Great Starclan,” Fireheart chokes out.

“Cats of the clans, unlike this piece of scum,” he glares at Tigerstar’s dead body, “we have no fight with you. We will let you leave in peace.”

“Peace?” Leopardstar bites out, “you call that peace?” She gestures to the dead body, a slowly growing pool of blood seeping out from his stomach, sliced from head to tail like a piece of butchered prey.

The black tom shrugged, “that was in self-defence but heed it as a warning. You have until the next full moon to leave otherwise we will take this forest by force. You have been warned. Bloodclan, to me.”

Without another word, the tom races of into the clearing, his band of rouges joining him.

“Jaggardtooth?” The same apprentice from earlier meows above the din as his mentor leaves his side. “Where are you going?” Blackfoot demands, the deputy looking suitably horrified by the death of his leader.

Jaggardtooth spits, “you heard what he said. I’m leaving and I’ll join him again if he’ll have me.” He raises his voice, “we would be fools to fight him and fools to leave. I’ve made my choice. I advise you to join me.”

Blackfoot looks at him in disgust, “that cat just killed our leader! And you want to join him!?”

The ginger tabby shrugs, “its join him or die,” before racing off after the last leaving rouges. Blackfoot glares at him but lets him go. He turns and locks eyes with his clanmates, “any other traitors?” A few other cats scramble off to the booing of their former clanmates. No one else moves, “good, we have no room for traitors now.” Rowanpaw stares in horror after the retreating form of his mentor and Squirrelpaw feels a surge of sympathy for the tom, suddenly grateful for Tornear at her side.

The large white tom moves and rejoins the other deputies at the base of the Great Rock while Tallstar moves to take the lead.

“We have been given a choice and now we must make a decision-”

“Make a decision? You heard that monster!” a shadowclan warrior yells, “we leave or we all end up dead.”

Tallstar winces, notably ignoring the dead body of the fallen leader, “together, we can-”

Bluestar growls, “there is no we. We stand alone. Thunderclan, lets go.”

Squirrelpaw watches in horror as Thunderclan leaves, Blackfoot leaving with Shadowclan shortly after.

Tallstar gazes desperately at Leopardstar but the shecat refuses to meet his gaze. “Our deal was with Tigerstar, now Riverclan is on its own.”

With that, Windclan stood in an abandoned clearing with a rapidly cooling body and an impossible decision.

Chapter Text

Speckletail huffed when Brackenfur scanned their surroundings for the fourth time in 5 minutes. “Cut it out,” she growled, body tense, the fur on her neck prickling.

Brackenfur shot her a glare but cut if off when he spotted the look on her face. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he soothed. “Princess and Oliver wouldn’t have let anything happen to him.”

The old queen sniffed, “I’m sure two kittypets wouldn’t stand a chance against Bloodclan.”

Brackenfur chose not to respond, merely coming and sitting beside her, his keen ears pricked for any approaching threats.

Speckletail chose to ignore him, her worry for her son growing larger as the sun progressed in the sky. He had tried to warn them that something was coming, Princess and Oliver saying that increasingly vicious rouges had been snooping around lately but she didn’t think even they could have predicted the attack. She was sure that they would have at least warned them for Snowkit’s sake.

She sniffed, she didn’t like kittypets but she could make an exception for these two. For her son.

Said son come barrelling into the clearing, a frantic look in his eye that turned into joy at the sight of them. He charged into her arms, the apprenticed size cat careening into her with a muffled sob of relief.

*You’re okay?* he signed, waving his paw up and down. She nodded, “and you?”

Her eyes scanned him, relieved to find not even a scratch on his pure white coat. He nodded; eyes locked on her muzzle as she spoke.

Brackenfur padded over after letting the two reunite. “Where’s Princess and Oliver?” He asked, moving a paw in a circle.

*Coming* Snowkit responded, glancing behind him. Just as he had predicted, the bushes rustled and two cats pushed their way through, panting from the run. The bell on their collars tingled nosily in the otherwise still forest causing Speckletails ears to pin back in faint annoyance. The look on the kittypet’s faces when they spotted Snowkit was enough to get her to relax.

“Don’t run off on us like that,” Princess scolded, whacking him gently with a paw.

Oliver meowed a soft greeting to the two, eyes filled with worry. *What happened* he signed, speaking as he did so in a voice just a tad to loud but filled with concern. Princess moved to sit beside her mate as the two warriors shared a look.

“The rouges you warned us about, they attacked night at the gathering. We have three days to either prepare to fight or leave the forest for good.”

Oliver frowned, *will you fight?*.

Brackenfur shoulders slouched, paws shifting through the leafy floor in unrest. “Bluestar won’t answer our questions, but we are preparing too. We can’t lose our homes.”

Oliver nodded, although he didn’t appear pleased at the words, his blue eyes calculating. “Bloodclan has been making moves,” Princess meowed, her once neat tabby fur ruffled from her run prickled in discomfort. “They are getting even more reckless now that they think they own the forest. They believe they will win.”

Brackenfur growled, “Thunderclan won’t let them.”

Princess shook her head, “I don’t think you understand. They are amassing even more cats, those that are too scared or too stubborn either join or die. Thunderclan won’t stand a chance against them even with your skills. Their sheer numbers will make certain of it.”

Speckletail pulled her surviving kit closer to her, “then what do we do?”

Princess and Oliver shared a look before Snowkit interrupted them. A determined look on his usually placid face. *We work together.*

 Fireheart was numb.

She thought.

She thought that with Tigerstar gone, she could finally be free. Even with her finally living her own life, finally in a place where she and her kits were loved and respected, she still felt a weight on her shoulders. Dragging her down and holding her back from truly being able to run free.

She had only just been able to admit to herself that while she had loved Tigerstar, she could no longer be with him and that that love was rotten and needed to be buried like crowfood so that the ground could be nurtured and new life could take root.

But still, she had never wanted him to die, especially not like that.

Shaking her head when she realises, they had reached the camp, she hurries over to Barkface. She had already ensured that her other kits, while shaken, were unharmed. Not having Leafpaw in her sights had sent her into a panic and despite knowing that she was safe, it wasn’t until all four of her kits were together that she would be able to finally breathe.

When she spotted her daughter's light tabby coat, she felt her already bleeding-heart ache, the lost, shaken look on her muzzle reflected in her own expression. When the young shecat spotted her, Fireheart could visibly see her composure break.

“Mama,” she cried, throwing herself into her mothers paws. Fireheart held her close, her parental instincts kicking in as she stroked her daughters back with her tail, hushing her soothingly. “I’m here, it’s alright. We’re alright.”

She sensed her other kits approach, Squirrelpaw shoving her way into the huddle while Tawnypaw and Bramblepaw leant against Leafpaw’s sides. “We’re okay,” she whispered.

Leafpaw shuddered, “but its not okay! It’s all my fault…” Her voice trailed off.

Fireheart pulls her closer in horror, “oh, honey, no. It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have stopped this-”

Leafpaw growls and pushes her away, unshed tears glinting in her eyes, “but I could have! I knew something like this would happen! The prophecy…”

The ginger queens neck fur bristled, “prophecy?”

Leafpaw nodded miserably, “Four will become two, lion and tiger will meet in battle, and blood will rule the forest.”

A chill went down her spine at the words. “We need to take this to Tallstar,” she meowed, when she finally found her voice. Her daughter still looked so scared, but as she wrapped her tail around her shoulder, nudging her other kits towards their nests, she understood.

She was scared too.

Barkface looked up as the two shecats approached, a frown marring his features when he spotted his apprentices downturned expression. “What happened?” He asked, concern in his voice.

Leafpaw huddled closer to her mother, shame flooding her body. If only she had spoken up sooner, but she has just wanted to prove herself. If she could figure out this prophecy, that would mean that she was a real medicine cat! Not a kittypet or future traitor, a real Windclan medicine cat! But she had already failed and now her clan was doomed to perish at Bloodclan's paws.

As Fireheart repeated the words in hushed voices to the leaders, Barkface tried to get her attention. “It wasn’t your fault,” he meowed. Leafpaw didn’t bother responding.

When Fireheart had finished, Tallstar sat back with a weary sigh and a well-hidden fear scent. “Starclan has always guided us and now we must pray they do so again. Barkface, you will go to the Moonstone tonight with Leafpaw and ask Starclan for guidance. I will speak with my senior warriors about preparing the clan for an attack. We will open up the old tunnels with the help of the remaining tunnelers as escape routes for our kits and elders. Deadfoot, you will guide this.”

The dark furred tom nodded, “I ask that Gorsepaw join Barkface and Leafpaw at the Moonstone if his wounds permit it. It is about time for him, frankly, for all the apprentices to have their mandatory visit to Mothermouth but for now, as the oldest, he will do.”

Tallstar nodded, turning to Barkface, “do you think he’ll be up for it?”

Slowly, the tom nodded, “his wounds have healed well, and he is no longer in danger of infection. Aside from some stiffness, he is fine. I will also release him for training provided he takes it slow at first. His wounds may be closed but they still run the risk of tearing. But right now, he will need all the training he can get.”

“They all can,” Deadfoot muttered. None of them mention why, it need not be said.

Tallstar refocused on the medicine cats, “when you get back with Starclans word, the clan will hold a vote.”

Barkface nodded to Leafpaw, “you best eat now since we won’t be allowed to after we leave.” Leafpaw nods and walks off, Fireheart watching her daughter leave worriedly.

Her attention returns to Tallstar when the tom sighs, for the first time, Fireheart realises that the tom is getting old. He’s the eldest out of all the clan leaders and a good chuck of the elders too. Nine lives must be exhausting and painful, continuing to grow old and watch those around you die before you. She doesn’t envy him.

“Deadfoot, gather the senior warriors and start preparations, I will assist wherever I am needed.”

Deadfoot nods, “lets get to it.”

Fireheart prayed that they would survive this. She wished she knew if Starclan even heard her.

Chapter Text

Gorsepaw knew of Starclan.

All warrior cats did. They were their ancestors, their light in the darkest of nights, their guide when all else seemed lost. But he didn’t truly know them. Not like Leafpaw or Barkface or even Tallstar did.

He knew that somewhere up there in the endless expanse of Silverpelt was his father, probably happily playing with his siblings who didn’t survive the exile. But beyond that, it was just that. An endless series of stars, cold and unreachable by mere mortals. Pillars of truth and hope but seemingly so far away that even with them shining, the clans still felt shrouded in darkness.

He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to die? It didn’t seem fair that he had lived while Quailkit and Storkkit didn’t. That his mother had to go on without her mate. That Leafpaw, Bramblepaw, Tawnypaw, and Squirrelpaw had to live under the shadow of their father even after his death. That Crowkit was alone in the nursery.

He was just beginning to understand that youth didn’t mean invincibility and that he had every chance of not surviving the fight that was brewing on the horizon. That the next time he woke, he could be another speck in the sky, looking down but unable to do anything more then watch as his home was torn apart again.

He wondered. Just how many of his clanmates would die before this was all over. If it ever would be over.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow, he was supposed too already be dead.

Barkface lead the way into the cavernous opening, Tornear sitting guard outside. Tallstar had wanted to send another warrior to guard them but there just hadn’t been enough cats to spare. With Gorsepaw joining them inside, Leafpaw just prayed that it would be enough.

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to find, perhaps a way to get rid of Scourage? Or maybe, though she hoped not, a new place for the clans to live. Her musing was cut short when Gorsepaw came to a lurching halt in front of her, her nose just barely managing to not smash into his tail.

Listening ahead, she noticed that Barkface had come to a sudden stop, the fur on his back prickling in the dim light. A low warning hiss resonated through the tunnels, sounding like thunder in her ears. Scenting the air, she picked up the fishy smell of Riverclan.

She sensed more then saw Gorsepaw move to speak and shoved him. This was a place of silence, especially before the stone was alight.

Said silence was stifling as the three Windclan cats pushed themselves into the clearing, the moonstone, not yet aglow, a sombre reminder of why they were there.

Leopardstar did nothing more than dip her head politely yet strained while Mudfur gazed curiously at Gorsepaw. It seems they weren’t the only ones to seek Starclans guidance. She was honestly surprised Thunderclan and Shadowclan weren’t here also. She prayed nothing had befallen them that had prevented them.

Bloodclan had already been poking at their boarders, testing their defences. Patrols often returned home covered in scratches and bite marks received from various rouge cats. Fear mongering was what Deadfoot had called it. Trying to scare them off.

But Windclan, for the first time in a long time, refused to run.

A shift fell over the clan cats as the moon aligned, bathing her vision in a ghostly white glow.

“It is time,” Mudfur meowed.

As she went to touch her nose to the stone, she hesitated, doubts flooding her mind. Was she truly meant to be here? Starclan had accepted her but that was before her father’s death. Was she truly free? Would her family, her clan, ever be safe? She had so many questions and no one to answer them.

She touched her nose to the stone and just like her first time, her vision changed.

If only, she could ask him why?

When she ‘woke’, she was not in the starry clearing that had slowly become familiar to her.

Instead, she was in a different forest, dark and shrouded in a faint red glow, the only light in the otherwise starless sky. A metallic scent filled the air that she recognized with dread, as blood. Shadows seemed to come alive, tangling between her paws as if trying to swallow her alive. Swallowing nervously around the lump that appeared in her throat, she dug her claws into the soft soil, startling when it broke apart between her paws into a pile of maggots.

With a sharp squeal, she stumbled away from the piece of crowfeed she had been standing beside, small white grubs being sent flying when she frantically shook her paws clean. She gaged, biting back bile as the foul scent filled her nostrils. ‘Where was she?!’

“H-Hello? Is anyone there? Hawkheart? Spottedleaf? Anyone!?” Swinging her head around, she almost looked right past him, a cat so faded that he could almost be as old as the clans himself.

Backing away, she squared herself up, lifting her chin to hide her tremors. “Wh-Who are you!? Where am I!?”

The mottled ginger tom was so faint, she could see the outlines of the skeletal trees behind him. When he spoke, shivers raced up her spine, his voice was old and creaky, like a breeze rustling through branches. Every word sounded painful and filled with a sort of spite and anger, barely restrained into a false platitude of friendliness.

“Who I am matters not, young kit. I have been all but forgotten except for the nightmares told by your elders. As for where you are,” he chuckled, a deep wheeze echoing from his chest. “You are where the stars don’t shine, where the prey doesn’t wander, where your feet can’t run, and where there is no shelter from your past when you sleep.”

“Starclan is not welcome here.”

With that, he lunged, claws outstretched and a feral grin on his face. “It has been so long since I have had company,” he mocked.

She jerked back out of his reach. Onewhisker’s training sessions coming back to mind as she dodged his next swipe, lashing out with a paw of her own. Where even was she? She had to get back to Barkface!

But his blows kept coming and she began to tire. He was toying with her. She was just an apprentice, barely nine moons, nothing compared to the wealth of experience of the cat in front of her. She knew it and when he avoided her blow with ease, she knew he knew it to.

She closed her eyes, desperately trying to wake herself up as he lunged at her again.

What happens if you die in a dream?

She didn’t want to know. But the killing blow never come.

“Leave her alone!”

Leafpaw stared in a mix of horror and awe as the cat she hadn’t been able to save, the cat who had sired her but not raised her, the cat who she should hate but she just didn’t know, bowled the other tom over, locking the two into a furious tussle. The cat, her father, who saved her.

“You are not wanted here, One eye,” Tigerstar hissed, biting down on the toms ear. The cat dubbed One eye, growled, but as Tigerstar bit down harder, relented.

“Fine,” He hissed, “but keep a better eye on your kits, you never know what lurks in the shadows here.”

Tigerstar stared at him until he was gone from sight before turning to face her, worry in his large amber eyes that reminded her so much of Bramblepaws. So much of her own.

“Are you alright? Why are you here? How did you even get here?!” Distinctly, she wondered if she had actually died. How could the cat the clans hated so much save her? How could the cat who had got her and her family exiled stare at her with such concern in his gaze that she couldn’t help but subconsciously relax.

“Leafpaw?” She blinked, meeting his gaze, and realised she had never responded. “I-I’m okay, just startled and I don’t know. I just-woke up here.”

The tom didn’t take his eyes of her, a look of wonder creeping into them. But that was okay because she couldn’t take her eyes off of him either.

She couldn’t help but see the similarities between them. She had the same pattern of his stripes, as did Bramblepaw. But Squirrelpaw got his tufted ears and bushy fur, and Tawnypaw had his sharp claws and slanted eyes.

It hit her then, that, this, was her father, and had things been different, she would have known him as such.

She remembered the night she first met him, before even the gathering that would have been his last. Of a night following a black tabby, of silenced giggles and curious wagging tails. A night that had been cut short before even introductions could be made by a patrol finding them. Her mother's worried, disappointed face.

“A-are you okay?” She asked, finally spotting the wounds marring the tom’s pelt. Tigerstar blinked, as if seeing them for the first time. He shrugged, “I’ll heal.”

Leafpaw shook her head, this was something she could do. “Here, let me-” She glanced around helplessly at the empty clearing, devoid of any life, plant or otherwise. Not even a cobweb to be seen.

Tigerstar rumbled soothingly, “it’s okay. We still heal here, just takes longer.”

She stared at him in distress, she couldn’t even heal right! This night had gone horribly wrong.

“At least let me clean if for you,” she meowed, not pausing for an answer. “I can make sure it doesn’t get infected,” she meowed, slipping into her medicine cat role with practiced ease.

Tigerstar stiffened at her movements but held still as she cleaned the wounds. She stepped back awkwardly when she was done, tail hiding between her legs. “Ah-j-just keep them clean, that should help at least.”

Tigerstar nodded slowly, a curious look on his face but he held his tongue. “Thank you.” She nodded back embarrassed.

She remembered her question from earlier, now she actually had the chance to ask but face to face with her father, she felt her courage leave her. Instead, all that came out was “do-do you know how to get out of he-”

She was cut off but a series of frantic yells. “Leafpaw!?” “LEAFPAW! Where are you!?” “I’m over here!” She called back, heart rising in her chest as Barkface and Spottedleaf charged into the clearing.

Barkface immediately headed towards her, nosing her over for any injuries while Spottedleaf put herself between them and Tigerstar, who had backed away at their arrival.

“At ease, Spottedleaf. I mean her no harm.”

Spottedleaf glared at him, claws unsheathed and a murderous look in her eyes, unusual for the usually calm medicine cat. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

A dark look crossed Tigerstar’s face, a growl building in his chest. “I wouldn’t hurt her!”

The tortoiseshell shecat held firm and finally, with a quick glance at her, dipped his head. “Fine, just make sure she gets home safe?”

Leafpaw watched curiously as Spottedleaf met the dark tabby’s eyes, Barkface having finished his check up followed her gaze. Whatever she saw in them made her loosen her stance. “I will.”

With that, she turned and with a simple “follow,” lead them out of the dark forest.

Glancing back, Leafpaw saw her father watching her retreat. She couldn’t read his gaze but found the energy to smile regardless. Tigerstar didn’t move but she could have sworn she saw an upwards tweak of his lips before they crossed a starry threshold and she found herself back in her starry valley.

Spottedleaf, once sure they had all crossed, swung round to face her. “Are you alright? Why were you there?” She asked, moving to nose her over herself. Leafpaw sighed but answered begrudgingly. “I’m alright, just tired and I-I don't know. I just woke up there?”

Spottedleaf looked at her, a curious look on her face but after ensuring she was alright, nodded and stepped back. “Very well, the night is almost over. Soon you’ll have to go.”

Leafpaw turned to face Barkface, panic on her face. “Did you get what we needed?!”

Barkface shook his head, “we didn’t have time to talk. We had to go find you.” Leafpaw turned to face Spottedleaf, blinking when she saw that other cats had arrived. Hawkheart, Barkface’s mentor, as well as Yellowfang, Gorsepaw, and a cat she correctly guessed to be Gorsepaw’s father. “But we need to know how to defeat Scourge! Can’t you just tell us now?!”

Yellowfang shook her head, “the process of giving a prophecy is not that simple. We don’t know all. It takes time and energy to see beyond. The stones light is almost gone. If we give you one now, you might never wake.”

Leafpaw turned to face Barkface, distress in her eyes, “but we don’t have any more time to come back!?

Barkface tugged her close, “it’s alright. What matters right now is that your safe. The clans will survive this. We always do.”

Spottedleaf chimed in, “have faith in your clanmates, and in yourselves. The clans are strong and can face this.

Leafpaw tore herself from Barkface’s side and raced over to the trio of medicine cats, ignoring Gorsepaw’s query into what was happening. She stared up at Spottedleaf with desperation, “please, tell me what I have to do!?” Spottedleaf stared at her namesake with pity in her eyes, “tell your mother I’m sorry.”

She glanced desperately between Yellowfang, Spottedleaf and Hawkheart. “What do we do?”

Hawkheart stepped forward, silent for the usually barbed tom, leading her away from the group. “Hawkheart? What are you doing?”

“I had faith in the clans but I fear that faith will not be enough. She seeks answers.”

“You don’t have enough strength to do this before the night is over!” Spottedleaf cried out, “you can’t risk her life for this!?” Yellowfang started moving towards them, Barkface following as her movements become more frantic.

“What are you doing!? There is an order to these things!” Spottedleaf yowled.

Hawkheart stared at her, Leafpaw forcing herself to meet his eyes. He nodded, “have strength, the night is almost over but your trial is not.”

“Hawkheart, don’t!”

With that, he touched his nose to Leafpaw’s forehead, and her vision exploded once again with colour as her whole body shook with pain.

Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans. Fire will save the clans.

She saw a cat, no, a lioness! Swathed in fire, leading the charge into bloodclan, blood raining from the skies staining the white of her fur red.

Cats of all clans fought side by side against their enemies, fighting for a common cause.

With a lioness chosen by the stars too lead them to victory.

She rose on her hind legs and roared her claim of the land before her to the stars and Leafpaw, with a gasp, could swear she heard the stars roar back.

The fiery lioness turned to her at the noise.

She expected fear or anger at the sight of her but was wholly unprepared for the unashamed, overwhelming feeling of love coming from those brilliant green eyes.

“Who are you,” she whispered. The lioness purred, touching her nose gently to her check. T

ears rolled down her face as the stress of the night caught up with her, finally she felt safe.

“Mother,” she choked out.

When she woke, her whole body ached like she had been hit by a monster. A slurred groan was forced out of her throat as she tried to blink away the black spots in her vision. “What-what happened?”

“Leafpaw! You’re alright!” Barkface shoved Gorsepaw out of the way, pushing the tom into Tornear’s paws so he could focus on his apprentice. “Leafpaw, how do you feel?”

She blinked tiredly at his concern, trying to remember how to force her mouth to work. “Tired,” she finally mumbled out, “evy’thin hurts.”

Barkface sighed in relief, “yeah, I bet it does.” His gaze hardened, “that was extremely foolish of you! I know I’ve warned you of what happens when the moons light runs out. You could have died!”

Leafpaw shook her head, forcing her body upright like a salmon forcing itself upstream. “I had to know.”

Barkface just sighed again, raising his head to the sky. “Hawkheart, you and I will be having words.”

Leafpaw glanced around, seeing them just in front of Mother Mouth. They must have carried her out. Tilting her head, she glanced over at her clanmates. “Where’s Riverclan?” Barkface lowed his head to look at her again, “they left after helping us get you out. They have a clan to run after all.”

Leafpaw nodded, wincing as something pulled in her neck. “Do you have the strength to make it back to camp?” Slowly, the tabby stretched out her limbs, wincing as the ache intensified. Cautiously, she stood, stumbling as she did so. She blinked gratefully at Gorsepaw who had come to her aid.

She nodded, “I think so.” Shaking her head, she refocused on the small group. “I have too. We need to talk to Tallstar and Deadfoot.” She paused, remembering. “And Fireheart.”

Tornear and Barkface shared a look but after a final check over, Barkface nodded. “Alright, but if you feel tired or worse, we stop. Don’t continue to force yourself. You almost died.”

Leafpaw shuddered at the words, that was twice she had come close to death tonight, but she didn’t regret it.

She knew what she had to do now.

Camp was busy, preparations still being made for the upcoming battle but the movements still came to a halt when the small party staggered into camp, concerned meows rising from the crowds at their disheveled appearance. Tallstar leapt down from his perch and padded over to the group, worry in his steely gaze. “What happened?”

Barkface shook his head, “later. We must hold the vote now.” “Now?” “Now.”

Tallstar nodded, “the last patrols just came back. We can work with this.” He turned and with in a single leap, landed lightly on his perch, a faint glow surrounding his outline against the sky. “Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey, gather here enough the High Ledge for a clan meeting.”

Leafpaw sighed, the clans would vote but she already knew the answer. Her exhaustion had only grown during the walk, aches and pains building into a blinding fury to the point where all she wanted to do was chew some poppy seeds and sleep. But it appeared the option was taking for her when for the second time today, she noted with frustration, she passed out.

When she woke again, a hiss built in her throat at the blinding light seeping through the medicine cat den walls. A smear of ginger edged her vision, and she turned her head to see her mother curled around her, fast asleep.

She couldn’t help but study her face, soothed by rest, the stress and worry that had been her mother’s constant companion wiped away by peaceful dreams. Least she hoped they were peaceful, her mother deserved to rest.

Tentatively, she tried to stand and unwind herself from her mother’s protective grasp without waking her. With a cautious push, she struggled to her feet and scrambled from the nest, wincing slightly as her aching body was forced to move. Barkface had been right, that was a stupid decision but, she got her answers. And the clan always came first.

Speaking of Barkface, she scanned the den but huffed in disappointment when he wasn’t there. ‘Must be with Tallstar’, she mused, pushing her head out of the rarely used den walls. Sure enough, Barkface was sitting across from Tallstar, Deadfoot, and Tornear. A concerned look on their faces at whatever Barkface had said.

Before she could fully leave the den and follow after her mentor, a voice sounded. “Leafpaw? Leafpaw! You’re awake!” Her mother’s brilliant green gaze, the same shade as both her sisters, bore into her, searching for answers Leafpaw wasn’t sure she could give.

“Mother,” she meowed, her voice breaking, a sob building in her throat. She tried to hold it back but when her mother’s comforting scent surrounded her, she gave in and let it out. Let out all the stress of the last couple days and nights, the fear, the hurt, the worry about not only her and her littermate’s future but about the clan, her home’s future. She let it all out and let her mother sooth her like she had done back when she had been a kit sick with greencough in the Thunderclan nursery.

Movement from the den entrance broke the two out of the moment, Barkface quickly hurrying over to check her over. “How do you feel?” He fretted.

“Fine,” she mumbled, eyes widening as she realised, she had missed the vote. “What happened!? What was the vote?!”

A second voice answered her, “26 to 9. We fight.” Leafpaw sighed in relief, knowing that her vote wouldn’t have changed the verdict regardless. She blinked her thanks to Deadfoot, the words caught in her throat, and thankfully, the tom understood her message. She could sense mirth in his meow as he made room for Tallstar to enter after him.

The skinny black and white tom stared at her with an expression she couldn’t read and Leafpaw was distinctly reminded of Fireheart giving the same gaze to Squirrelpaw as a kit when the bushy furred shecat tried to lie and say that she had no clue how Bramblekit had ended up covered in thistles and wow, what a coincidence that she happened to be there as he tripped into the pile the elders were working into the wall. My oh my. Fireheart hadn’t brought it.

Shaking her head, cheeks flushing when she realised, she had missed Tallstar’s question with her internal rambling, she meowed, “sorry, could you repeat that?” Tallstar blinked, expression giving way to amusement as he repeated his question, “Barkface said you had a vision of what we need to do?”

She shivered, remembering the lioness and her power but also the endless onslaught of blood. “Bloodclan will attack and alone, we will fall.” The mood in the den dropped as she spoke. “But, but if the clans fight together, we stand a chance.”

Tallstar nodded, “I suspected as much.”

Deadfoot spat in annoyance, “but the other clans are not willing to aid us. How can we convince them to fight together when they would much prefer to just squabble between themselves over boarders that won’t even matter if we’re all dead.”

Barkface turned his attention back to her, “what else did Hawkheart show you?” Leafpaw thought over how to phrase this, well aware that her mother was at her back. “I saw-I saw a lioness, leading us into battle. She chased away the dark and brought back the light with her fiery mane.”

At the word fire, all four cats focused on Fireheart. Her mother stared at her in a mix of awe and apprehension. “Continue, please Leafpaw.”

“I didn’t recognise her at first, she was bathed in flames but then she came to me, and her eyes-I-I saw you mother, you saved us!”

Fireheart shook her head and backed away, eyes wide and fur sticking up like she had been struck by lightning. “You-you must have seen someone else, I’m just a warrior! A queen! I can’t-I can’t be the one to lead. I-”

Leafpaw’s ears drooped, fearing that would be the answer but still, she knew within her heart of hearts that she was right. Her mother was the answer.

Tallstar stepped towards Fireheart, his long, thin tail soothingly nudging Leafpaw as he spoke, “I believe your daughter’s words to be the truth and I know you understand that too.”

Fireheart shook her head, fear in her voice when she spoke, “but I’m not a leader, I don’t know how I can be expected to do this? Starclan must have been mistaken.”

Barkface moved to join Tallstar, his eyes lit with a knowing blue green glow, “Starclan did not make a mistake. You were sent to us for a reason, and now, we finally know why. Your role in Thunderclan was achieved when you got Tigerstar exiled, now, you must fulfil your role to Windclan. To all the clans.”

FLASHBACK

The nights had been growing colder, leaf-bare determined to cling on for as long as possible. Frost coated the tips of each blade of grass causing the starlight to bounce off them, sending waves of colour into the air. It was beautiful, Barkface mused, sitting at the edge of the camps clearing.

A rustle of the grass alerted him to the tom’s presence and a quick scent of the air confirmed it, so he remained put as Tallstar settled down beside him. The two sat in silence for a moment, simply enjoying the calm before the camp awoke. Tensions were still high and the clan still recovering from their brutal exile so moments of peace like this one were treasured.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Tallstar asked, eyes locked on the stars. “Something like that,” he responded, turning to face the black and white leader. A flicker of light drew his eyes away and they too locked on the stars. His breath caught in his throat and his fur bristled, each hair standing on edge, as his eyes started glowing with a brilliant light.

Tallstar swung around to look at him in concern but held back. It was never wise to interrupt Starclan. A few more seconds passed before Barkface let out a breath, fur slowly lying flat as he lowered his head towards the ground. Tallstar waited for him to recover before pressing.

“What did they say?” he asked. Barkface didn’t respond for a few more seconds before turning to look at his leader. “Wind must help the fire grow.” He meowed. Tallstar tilted his head, “strange, it’s like those words are familiar, like I’ve heard them before...somewhere.”

He shook his head as if to clear the thoughts away. “Fire?” he asked, thinking of a certain young shecat. Barkface nodded, thoughts going to the same cat.

“Something is coming, and I am certain that whatever it is, Fireheart plays a role.”

Tallstar nodded in agreement. “Fireheart has done much for us,” he meowed, “when the time comes, we will answer Starclan’s call. Wind will help the fire grow.”

FLASHBACK End

“You were always meant to burn brightly, Fireheart. This is your chance. Fire will save the clans,” Tallstar meowed.

The words appearing to resonate within Fireheart as her mother’s head slumped towards the ground. A moment passed before she lifted it, her green gaze meet Leafpaw’s own, Leafpaw trying to convery her love and hope for her mother and eventually her mother sighed, seeing something in Leafpaw, but she didn’t know what.

Fireheart hesitated, her fear scent still in the air but slowly, an analytical look come over her. “If, and I mean if, I am to do this, I will need help. We will need help. We need supplies, allies, and a solid plan. We need to contact the other clan leaders.”

Tallstar bowed his head thoughtfully. “Strength in numbers, we can send out patrols to try and convince them to work with us” he murmured. Deadfoot nodded in agreement, “work with our strengths and cover our weaknesses. Pool our supplies. Cover each other’s backs.”

Fireheart started pacing, “We need cats on the inside, spies. We need to know everything they know. We have the home field advantage, and we need to utilise it. I know some cats who might be able to help us.”

Her head tilted, “yes, yes, I have a plan. We-we might just win this.”

Tallstar nodded, a proud glint in his eyes, “then let us plan.”

Leafpaw, for the first time, could see that cat her mother could have become had she not had kits.

She would have been a brilliant leader, kind, resourceful, a brilliant strategist but ultimately, someone who cared for all the cats in the clan.

Her mother had always been her hero, and now, now she would be everyone’s.

Fire alone will save the clans.

Chapter Text

Squirrelpaw grimaces as her paw once again sinks into the muddy outskirts of Riverclan’s territory, the white fur turning a muddy brown that makes her skin crawl with discomfort. Tornear glances down at her, his blue eyes bright with concern but she shakes him off, giving a strained smile as the group lead by Deadfoot, head deeper into Riverclan territory.

Up ahead, she can see the black tom exchanging tense words with a Riverclan warrior, the black tom tensing his claws into the soil as they walk, clearly disturbed by whatever the smoky warrior is saying. As they get closer to Riverclan camp, Tornear steps closer to her.

“Keep quiet,” he murmurs under his breath, “let Deadfoot do the talking.” Squirrelpaw doesn’t spare him a glance, she knows how important this talk is and she wouldn’t ruin it. They need Riverclan on their side.

The patrol pushes their way through the reedy stalks that make up the Riverclan entrance, Squirrelpaw winces as the sharp barbs catch on her fluffy fur. Why Riverclan would put up with such things is beyond her. The whole camp feels wet and humid, making her damp fur curl. She much prefers the moors, or even Thunderclan’s evergreen forests to this.

Leafpaw might do well here, she muses. Her sleek dappled fur would fit in well with the stereotypical shiny coats of the Riverclan cats, benefited from a rich diet of fish all year-round. Her own fur was much too thick and dense to ever be suited to Riverclans waters or Shadowclans marshes. Speaking of Shadowclan, Tawnypaw should be there soon with her own patrol.

A frown marred her face as a thought crossed her mind. Had things been different, had Fireheart gone with Tigerstar, would they have been raised as Shadowclan cats? Tawnypaw might have been fine, she was always the stealthiest of the four, with light paws and a keen sense of balance. Her tortoiseshell patched coat would have served her well under the pine trees shadows.

Bramblepaw, her dearest brother, as much as he loved the moors, he was clearly made to be a Thunderclan cat. Thick furred and broad shouldered, he was built to cut through shrubbery and leap from trees like he had been born with wings, fearless.

She was different from her littermates. Smaller, faster, bushy furred, bright-eyed, and bushy tailed, literally. She had loved Thunderclans forests, but it was on Windclan’s endless moors, where she truly felt free. Her small frame at home amongst the lean bodies of Windclan warriors, deft and swift like the rabbits they hunted.

Squirrelpaw suspected that her mother, as much as she had loved Thunderclan, felt the same, heard the wind sing to her like a lullaby on a stormy night, feeling the rushing winds fan her flames to life.

Tilting her head up from her paws, she watched as more and more Riverclan cats swarmed the camp, emerging from reed-lined dens like rain emerging from heavy clouds. She wondered why cats cared so much about where they were from when at the end of the day, they all just wanted to survive.

Leopardstar,” Deadfoot meows, curt and as too the point as ever. She watched as the golden shecat, with her uniquely spotted fur, leapt delicately from the ledge that led to her den. Her unique golden eyes drifting over the Thunderclan party, resting lightly on Squirrelpaw before flicking back to the patrol leader.

“Deadfoot,” she greets curtly, tail swishing to curl around her paws, “what brings Windclan to my camp?”

“We come as representatives of Windclan, carrying the words of Tallstar. We seek an alliance against a common enemy.”

Leopardstar’s eyes narrowed, a faux calm settling over her body like fog over the river, hiding the storm below. “I thought we made our stance quite clear,” she mused.

Deadfoot dipped his head respectfully, “we heard but we could not resist asking again. I can safely assume that you have no desire to relinquish your territory to the Bloodclan cats?”

A low growl builds in Leopardstar’s throat at the mention of their shared enemy, “of course not,” she snapped. “But me and my warriors will fight together, we will not be chased from our territory like startled prey.”

Tornear’s hackles rose at the obvious jab, Squirrelpaw moving closer to her mentor, an anchor against the Riverclan’s leader’s scorn.

Deadfoot remained unphased, “and neither does Windclan but you saw them. They stole nine lives in a single blow. Even if you win, how many of your cats will die in the process? Windclan is not willing to bet the lives of innocent cats on a single cat’s pride.”

Leopardstar stalked forward, ending nose to nose with Deadfoot, who remained still and stoic. “I care for my cats,” she growled.

Deadfoot met her gaze evenly, “then prove it. Fight with us, so that are odds are doubled. Let there be no needless death.”

Squirrelpaw held her breath at the two cat’s stand-off, she could see Reedwhisker, the tom Gorsepaw had introduced her to one day, staring at Leopardstar with a determined and hopeful look in his eye. Finally, Leopardstar blinked, Deadfoot took a step back in respect of her higher position.

“Very well,” she murmured, suddenly appearing very tired, “bring word back to Tallstar but tell him this as well, Riverclan will fight beside Windclan but we will not fight with you.”

As they left, Squirrelpaw turned to Tornear in despair, “is that it? They won’t fight with us but beside us? How is that fair?”

Tornear sighed but indulged her, “for now, it is enough. Leopardstar, as any good leader does, values her cats the most highly. She won’t chance their lives for the sake of a Windclan cats. It is not fair, but it is life, it is how the clans have always been.”

Squirrelpaw gazes ahead where Deadfoot determinedly leads the way back to camp. ‘But does it always have to be this way?’ she wonders, thinking of the stories her mother had told her, of feeding Riverclan with Graystripe, of saving Shadowclan from Brokenstar, of bringing back Windclan. ‘Its not true, Fireheart has proven it time and time again. The clans need each other and should fight together.’

When she said as much, Tornear gave a light chuckle, but his gaze was serious, “maybe you are right. But things don’t change in a day. The course of the river has been set for generations; it will take more then a single breeze to change its path.”

Squirrelpaw set her lip, as stubborn as her mother had known her to be. “Then I’ll change the river myself.”

“Bold words,” he meowed, but she thought she could detect a faint hint of pride in his meow, “you know, if any cat could do it, I feel that it would be you.”

Tawnypaw was normally very sure-footed.

Once she felt at home in Windclan, she found herself thriving for the first time in a long time. She knew that she was in the right place.

But something about the wetlands, the scent of pine, the cool ground giving slightly beneath her paws, and the abundance of wildflowers, warmed her. It was beautiful and calm in a way she didn’t know she needed. Scenting the air, she tasted the tang of fresh herbs like the ones that clung to her sisters pelt, heard the faint croaking of toads, felt the coolness provided by the towering pines above them.

Shaking her head, she noticed that in her musing she had started to lag behind. With a quick glance around her, she raced forward to resume walking side by side with Robinwing. Her mentor greeting her with a chirp before turning her attention back to their Shadowclan guides, a long-legged tabby brown shecat and a dark ginger shecat along with a cat she assumed to be an apprentice, the grey toms surly frown putting her off conversation.

Barkface was making friendly smalltalk with the tabby queen while Mudfur gazed around warily. He made a face as his paw slipped into the silky waters and emerged covered in lichen and moss. Grimacing, he leapt ahead to stand beside Barkface.

“How much longer till we arrive?” he grumbled. Russetfur bit back a hiss as he splashed water over her, sending a scathing look at the tom.

“Almost,” Tallpoppy soothed, sharing a weary look with Barkface. Tawnypaw tried halfheartedly to make conversation with the apprentice, but when he refused to look at her, she slunk back to beside Robinwing with an awkward wince.

She may like the appeal of Shadowclans territory, but its cats left something to be desired, she had never fared well with silence, not with all her littermates around her. Glancing at the party, she wondered how such a beautiful place could allow for such stilted talk.

Upon the arrival at the camp, Tawnypaw was awed by the fallen trees forming a hollow that blended seamlessly into the marshes. If she hadn’t have been looking for it, she would have gone right past.

“Stay here,” Russetfur meowed, once they had entered the camp. “I’ll fetch Blackstar.”

Tawnypaw jolted at the name but realised quickly that it made sense. ‘Of course he’s leader now,’ she thought, trying to rid the images of her dying father from her mind. Robinwing, as if sensing her plight, draped her tail over her shoulder in comfort. With a deep breath, Tawnypaw stilled her racing thoughts and refocused on the camp.

When the white tom emerged, ‘how ironic of a name’, he said nothing as he strolled up towards them.

“Barkface.”

“Blackstar,” the medicine cat greeted, “we come as representatives of Windclan, carrying the words of Tallstar. We seek an ally against a shared enemy.”

Blackstar nodded, “I had thought as much. You need not ask, my clan and I will join you.”

Barkface blinked in surprise at the ease of the response, opening his mouth to smoothly accept only for Mudfur to barge in.

“Really, that’s all?! What are you playing at!?” He growled, digging his claws into the soft earth.

Blackstar stared at the tom with barely hidden disdain, “I am playing at nothing. I do not play with the lives of my cats. We had planned to move into the twolegplace but that is no longer an option.”

Tawnypaw spotted the grey apprentice from earlier wince, a dark brown tom, clearing his brother, beside him gazed despondently at his paws. She recognised him from the gathering, she thought, the cat whose mentor had fled to join Bloodclan.

‘Maybe that’s why they can’t go to the twolegplace, Bloodclan still holds most of the land there. It would still end in a battle just with less allies.’

“Shadowclan has had enough of violence, peace is easier and better for us all. We will fight with you against Bloodclan so that there may finally be peace.”

Barkface dipped his head in respect, “Windclan will fight with you, we will send word to discuss our plans further. May the stars be with you.”

“And with you,” the weary leader murmured, gazing over the small party.

As his eyes locked on Tawnypaws, a glimpse of recognition glittered in them. “And with you.”

Chapter Text

If she was being honest, she wasn’t sure why she was chosen to come along to try and convince Thunderclan and Bluestar (mainly Bluestar), to ally with them in the upcoming battle against Bloodclan. Excuse her melancholy, but Leafpaw had always considered herself to be the more practical of her littermates.

Squirrelpaw tended to always give more then she had on paw, her endless energy often leading to rushing ahead and getting into trouble.

Bramblepaw seemed more stoic and mature but truthfully, he could be just as bad as Squirrelpaw, the two having had an ongoing competitive streak from the moment they were born. He would throw himself into danger just to prove that he could, least he be left behind.

Tawnypaw had a pretty solid head on her shoulders, Leafpaw was relieved to have a sister who she could hold a bit more faith in to assist her in reigning in their two more wild hearted littermates. But she inherited their mother’s rather legendary temper, which while normally curbed by her continuous self-reflection and logical outlook on life, when pushed to the edge, she was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of passion and determination, a flurry that must be unleashed, often leaving her drained and even worse off when the storm finally passes.

Don’t get her wrong, Leafpaw loved her siblings, and maybe now she was starting to see why Tallstar had taken her with him and Whitetail instead of them, still, taking a relatively new medicine cat apprentice, as opposed to a warrior apprentice with several moons of training, into the camp of a cat who had wished her dead just seemed like poor decision-making.

But, if Leafpaw knew anything of her leader, she knew he was a cat who had planned ahead and planned well. There were very likely clues that she had yet to see that had led to this decision, she could only hope that when the situation arose, she knew what he wanted her to do.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure why out of all his littermates, he was the one who had to stay behind.

‘Even Squirrelpaw got to go, with HIS MENTOR! When Deadfoot got back, he was going to have words’, he thought mulishly as he dug his paw through another wad of dirt.

‘Sure, they get to go have fun transpiring across clan territory and he’s stuck here digging out another abandoned tunnel as an escape route.’

Bramblepaw loved Windclan, more then he thought he would if he was being truly honest. He enjoyed running and feeling the wind in his fur, he enjoyed sleeping out under the stars, mapping them with his sisters and Gorsepaw on the nights they couldn’t sleep. He loved the taste of rabbit. But sometimes he still wondered if he was in the right place, if he was truly made for this. His knew his sisters sometimes felt it too but they had settled in quicker than he had, leaving him feeling out of place and left behind, a feeling he very much did not like.

He let out a sharp hiss, wrenching his claw free from where it had gotten jammed into a rock buried in the dirt. Shaking it out, he waited for the pain to fade before flicking the rock to the side with an angry huff.

He loved and got along with his sisters.  Gorsepaw and Eagleflight were like the brothers he had never had. Deadfoot and Tallstar, were his guides. Fireheart his warm hearth. Even Crowkit, as sullen as he could be at times, was slowly becoming a good friend.

But sometimes, he thought he saw cats staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Especially after the night that… the night that his father died and brought blood into the forest. He heard their whispers carried on the breezes, never close enough for him to hear but enough to make his skin crawl with unease and discomfort, a feeling he thought he would be rid of once he left Thunderclan.

Was he truly welcomed here?

A gentle voice broke him from his rumination, Sorrelshine poking her head out from an adjoining tunnel to gaze at him. “Are you alright? I heard a noise. You finished with your section yet?”

He hid a wince at her curious stare, just barely visible in the dim light. “Yeah, I’m fine” he meowed, clearing his throat. “I’m almost finished, just need to clear out the old dirt so I have room to break into the next tunnel.”

The grey and brown shecat come over with a careful stoop into the smaller tunnel. Sniffing around, she felt around with her paws at the work he had completed. With a satisfied nod he felt rather than saw, she stepped back, fur brushing against his own as he pushed himself into the wall to create more space.

“Not bad, go back up for a break, you’ve earned it. I’ll send Flylight down here to finish.” Bramblepaw dipped his head politely and turned to leave. Hesitantly, he halted his exist and turned back to her, Sorrelshine turning to face him with a curious chirp. Dragging a claw through the earth in contemplation, he decided to just ask.

“Why are we even doing this? Wouldn’t it be smarter to run across the fields? Down here, it’s so dark. What if we get lost or the tunnels collapse?” He hoped she didn’t think this question was stupid, that was part of why he didn’t want to ask. ‘A real Windclan cat would already know this,’ he thought bitterly.

“You’d think that” she agreed, “it is what we are known for but in this case, when Bloodclan cats are everywhere and already poking at our boarders, the tunnels will provide us with a safe way out they won’t be able to easily follow. It’ll be easier and safer for our elders and kits as well. We used to use them all the time to hunt during bad leaf-bares and to sneak behind our enemies during battles.”

Bramblepaw tilts his head consideringly, “if they were so useful, why did they stop using them?”

At this, she sighed, faintly amused. “Come on, let’s go back to the surface, I’ll explain as we go.”

It was strange that at one point, she would have said she’d known these cats, or at least recognised their scents but after so long away and so much of her young life being spent in Windclan, they became just as strange and unrecognizable as any rouge or loner who accidently crossed their border.

With a nervous cough, she shuffled closer to Whitetail, the young shecat giving her a reassuring smile as they followed after Tallstar who in turn, followed a golden-brown tom and dusky brown shecat, whose names Leafpaw could no longer recall. When they arrived at the gorse bushes that marked Thunderclan’s camp entrance, Leafpaw had to bite her lip to keep back memories of cold nights and subtle paw steps, of her sister’s breathy giggles and her other siblings shushing, as they followed a dark-striped tom out, out, out.

Shaking her head like she was shooing away flies, she ignored Whitetail’s concerned look and pushed her way after her leader, wincing as her fur caught on stray brambles. She was bigger than she was last time she had done this.

Blinking into the sunlight on the other side, she was hit with a wave of nostalgia so strong it shook her to her core. She was born here, and in any other time, she would have grown up here, became an apprentice here, then a medicine cat, then someday, died here. Over there, in the corner of the camp, lay a twisted branch that her and her littermates used to climb. And there! Beside the nursery, that’s where Squirrelpaw fell and twisted her paw. She got to watch Cinderpelt patch it up under Yellowfang’s careful guidance. This had been her home once.

“Leafpaw? You ok?” With a blink, Leafpaw shook the memories from her head and gave a sheepish nod as she stepped aside to let Whitetail enter, the second Thunderclan warrior right behind her. The golden-brown tom spared her a concerned glance before leaving them to rejoin his clanmates. She should know him, but she doesn’t.

“Tallstar, what brings you to my camp? I believe we made ourselves quite clear at the gathering did we not?” Tallstar dipped his head politely as Bluestar padded down from her den. Leafpaw heard Whitetail bite back a gasp at the sight of the once renowned, blue-furred queen. Leafpaw could barely stamp down her own disbelief.

In her memories, Bluestar was big and dark and ferocious. A blue wraith in the middle of a fever-indued nightmare. The name her mother cried in equal parts love and hate as she mourned the clan who had taken her in once upon a time. Now, reduced to mere shadow of her former glory, skinny, fur unkept, a hazy look in her eyes barely controlled by a fiery determination to stand against them.

Leafpaw would never admit it, not even to Barkface, but on the nights she awoke, less often now than before and after Tawnypaw, then Tawnykit had returned to Fireheart, gasping for breath, tears stinging her eyes and a silenced yowl caught in her throat, it was her who brought the darkness in. He would give her lavender and while she slowly relearned how to breath, he taught her herbs until the echo of her past had faded and she drifted off to sleep.

Under his care, she grew stronger, braver, wiser and when she looked at Bluestar, she knew that she still feared her, but that fear was slowly becoming overcome with a pitying ache. The cat who her mother had told her stories about was gone now. A shell of her former self. Bluestar was sick. Her training made that clear.

Now, she thinks she understands why Tallstar brought her.

Sorrelshine led the way out of the tunnel, walking slowly and carefully, pausing to test the walls as she went. Bramblepaw stumbled along behind her, a faint fear of getting lost whispering in his mind.

“So,” he meowed aloud, trying to turn his attention to something else but the lingering dread of being buried alive, “what happened? Why did we stop using the tunnels if they were so useful?”

“It wasn’t as long ago as you are probably thinking, Tallstar was barely an apprentice when it happened,” Sorrelshine meowed in response. “Bear in mind, I only know the stories, this was still back before I was born. From what I’ve been told, Windclan, as we occasionally do, took in some rouges who were passing through.”

Bramblepaw gazed at her in shock, “took in rouges? Why would you do that?!”

The brown and gray shecat let out a small chuckle, “Windclan doesn’t quiet view things the same as the other clans. We pride ourselves on our stories, on our memories, passed down through generations. We remember how it all started, as rouges, loners, and cats from distant places, all coming together to create the clans. Its where it all began. We took them in to learn from them and them from us, so that we may all emerge stronger and better for it.”

“And did you? I mean, did they?” He asked, curious despite himself. She sighed, pausing for a minute to think before continuing.

“In a sense. You might not of heard of him though I know the elders still mention his name on occasion but Tallstar’s father was what was called a tunneler. He was one of the best even! When the rouges came to stay, he took them down into the tunnels to teach them. He never came back up.”

“What happened?”

“Tallstar, just an apprentice at the time, saw the aftermath. Sandygorse had apparently shoved one of the rouges to safety when one of the tunnels accidently collapsed. But at the cost of his own life. That was apparently the last straw and Heatherstar, our leader at the time, shut down the tunnels permanently.”

Bramblepaw winced and huddled closer as stay pieces of dirt fell from the ceiling. “But if was an accident? Why shut them down still?”

Sorrelshine paused to patch another piece of the wall, her concentration not breaking as she spoke. “Sometimes good things have to be stopped. I wish it hadn’t of happened. I would have loved to be a tunneler, but I understand her reasoning. Sometimes, the losses just outweigh the benefits.”

For a moment, the two walked in silence, Bramblepaw reflecting on her words.

“You never said what Tallstar did after his father died.”

Sorrelshine nodded, “well, it’s complicated but in short. He left.”

“Left?”

“Yep, left and didn’t come back for many moons. When he did return, he was different. He said that he left to try and avenge his father, but he couldn’t do it. My mother said that he came back a calmer cat, he had matured, grown, learned something important, found something important, or someone as she suspected, and became better for it.” She laughed a little at this, “my mother used to say that anger left you cold when it faded. He was cold but something warmed him.”

“Did he ever say what he found out there?” He asked, eyes wide, paws kneading the earth in eagerness to hear.

To his disappointment, she shook her head. “No, but he found something in his journey and whatever he found, I’m grateful for. It made him a good warrior and an even better leader. We, Windclan, is lucky to have him.”

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” Bluestar snarls, her words cut off by a wracking cough that shudders through her skinny frame but the fire in her eyes continues to burn just as bright as she stares down the black and white tom.

“We have come, as representatives of Windclan as a whole, to request an alliance against Bloodclan. I have heard what you have said, and I have come to ask regardless because we both know that we do not stand a chance alone.”

Bluestar took a step forward, eyes narrowing at him as her lips peel back in a growl. “Thunderclan has no need for allies like yourselves, taking in traitors and murderers. Unlike you, Thunderclan is strong. We will stand alone. Now, take your cats and get out of my camp before I make you leave,” she spat, before turning on her heel and padding away. A flick of her tail had two warriors racing over to show them the way out.

Leafpaw huddled closer to Whitetail as a brown tom came up beside them. A quick glance and her eyes widened as she saw Tallstar still stood in the same spot. “Do you really value your clanmates lives so lowly?” He said quietly, paws rooted in the earth despite Thunderclan warriors surrounding him on all sides.

Bluestar halted in her tracks at his words, the fur on her spine rising. “Would you really risk their lives for the sake of your pride? Is this what Starclan wants from you?”

The blue-furred shecat chuckled, “my pride means nothing to me. I know you, Tallstar. You are nothing but empty words and even emptier threats.”

She turned back around to face him, a deranged glare on her face, her warriors silent and still. “Starclan means nothing to me, and I have nothing more to say to you. Now.” Her eyes narrowed and her claws unsheathed, gouging into the ground, “get out of my camp. Mousefur, Brackenfur, escort them out.”

Tallstar held her gaze before abruptly turning away, nodding at Whitetail and Leafpaw to follow him. “Come, we will get nothing more out of her here.”

Leafpaw gazed around the Thunderclan camp, watching as Bluestar leapt back up to her den. She could see her cousin gazing at her sadly from a den, his white fur dimmed by the shade and broken up by vicious scars, remnants from the dog attack. She wished she had gotten a chance to know him better before things had all gone wrong. More warriors stood around the camp, listlessly, with no cat to guide them, and no end to the war in sight. They looked hopeless. They looked desperate.

“Leafpaw, come on. Let’s go,” Whitetail called out, when the younger shecat paused for a heartbeat to long. Leafpaw took one last glance, meeting her cousin’s eyes briefly, before turning and charging after the white shecat. The trio pushed back through the brambles, Leafpaw not even feeling them pinch at her fur this time around, her mind too busy trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Just as they exited, a cry sounded over the forest. “Help! Someone help us! We need Cinderheart!”

She looked up from her paws in shock as Mistyfoot charged towards them, a small body hanging limply from her jaws. ‘Mistyfoot?! What was she doing here?’

“Mistyfoot,” Mousefur barked out, racing over, “what happened?” Graystripe and Sandstorm stormed in behind the two, dragging a black striped tom with them.

“Darkstripe happened, the traitor,” Sandstorm spat, her claws holding the thrashing tom down.

“I didn’t do anything! The stupid kit ate the berries herself! I was trying to save her!”

Sandstorm snarled, digging her claws in harder, “don’t lie! I saw what you did! The stench of Bloodclan was everywhere!”

Mistyfoot her head, “we don’t have time for this, Sorrelkit needs help. Where’s Cinderheart?!”

Brackenfur spoke up, gazing worriedly at the tiny kit, “she was out gathering herbs with Fernpaw and Ashpaw.”

Tallstar intervened, “go find her then.”

Mousefur shook her head, “we don’t have time, Sorrelkit needs help now.”

The dusky brown shecat turned to face Leafpaw, her eyes desperate. “You’re a medicine cat apprentice, what do we do?”

Leafpaw froze, uncertain on what to do with all the attention on her as they all turned their eyes towards her. Her vision moved to the tiny kit squirming helplessly on the ground, bright red juices staining the fur around her muzzle. ‘Deathberries,’ she thought. She thought back to Gorsepaw, to Barkface.

She could do this.

Tallstar turned to face the young apprentice, eyes serious. “Leafpaw, what can we do?”

Leafpaw leapt into action.

Bramblepaw knew that if he had tried to walk these tunnels alone, he would have gotten horribly lost. Sorrelshine guided him along, teaching him tips and tricks for patching the tunnel walls, how to scent for tracks in the tunnels, how to use your other senses and not your vision to guide you.

‘Once you forgot about the amount of earth above you, tunnelling was sort of amazing,’ he thought, distantly. He might just understand Sorrelshine’s obsession with it. Regardless, a question flew through his mind as he contemplated asking. He could hear Sorrelshine’s paws echo through the darkness as he followed behind her.

“I can’t read minds, you know,” she teased.

“What?” He meowed, flicking his head up from where they had been staring at his paws.

“You’re thinking so loud I can hear it. What’s on your mind? Is it something about my brother?”

Bramblepaw shook his head, “its nothing, just thinking.”

Here, he hesitated and Sorrelshine sighed exasperatedly, “just ask. You’ll never know if you don’t.” “

I know what my mother and littermates say and Deadfoot says it too but.. Do you think I’ll be a good warrior?”

Sorrelshine froze and Bramblepaw feared he had overstepped but before he could say anything, the older warrior turned and sat down to face him.

“I don’t know,” she meowed.

Bramblepaw felt his blood run cold and fought to keep the tears from his eyes. ‘I knew it,’ he thought, bitterly, 'he didn't belong here.'

“Because I can’t predict the future, no one can. But I can tell you this.”

He lifted his head to look at her, brow furred as he listened intently.

“When my littermates and I were young, no one, and I mean no one, thought my brother could ever be a warrior. I will admit that even I had my doubts at times when I listened to the warriors talk. But Tallstar, then Talltail, come home, and he made Heatherstar give him my brother as an apprentice. He gave my brother a chance, when few other cats would have. He saw something in him that nobody else did, and gave him a choice, and Deadfoot made sure he chose right. He became a brilliant warrior and now, he’s a brilliant deputy."

"Cat’s aren’t shaped by the actions or thoughts of others. Tallstar may have given Deadfoot an opportunity, but it was Deadfoot who took that and made it something more. Tallstar had the chance to do something awful but made the decision to do the right thing instead. You can ask your question to a million different cats and get a million different answers but the only answer that really matters is the one you get when you ask yourself because you’re the one who has to live with the results.”

She stared at him intently, “do you think you’ll be a good warrior?”

Bramblepaw wanted to respond with an immediate yes but a string of self-doubt held him back. “I-I don’t know,” he confessed. “My-my father-”

Sorrelshine cut him off, “who care’s about who or what your father did. What do you think?”

“I mean, I guess, mother always-”

“Ah,” she interrupted, placing a paw over his mouth. “Not about your mother, or your siblings, or even your mentor. Do YOU think you’ll be a good warrior?”

Bramblepaw fell silent, contemplating the question. He knew he was capable of being a warrior and Fireheart always said that it was our choices that defined us, not our past. She had been a kittypet after all and now she was a renowned warrior respected by cats from all the clans. If she could be a warrior, then so could he.

Sorrelshine clearly noticing the conviction on his face, nodded, a hint of pride in her voice when she spoke. “Sometimes it’s all about believing in yourself and sometimes, all that can take is having someone else believe in you too but we won't always get that. So believe in yourself and your own capabilities, fight for yourself because you will be the only cat who is always by your side.”

Bramblepaw nodded before deciding to just go for it and ask another question before he chickened out again. “Do-do you think they hate me? For being Tigerstar’s son I mean? I know some cats do from the other clans, some of them look like they’re even scared of me, just because I look like him…”

Sorrelshine sighed, drapping her tail over the young tom’s back as she guides him through a particularly twisty part of the tunnel system. “I can’t speak for everyone, you know that. But I can say that Windclan, doesn’t hate you and they don’t fear you.”

The young tabby tom lifted his nose to gaze at the back of the shecats head as she continued to guide him. “Then why do they stare at me so much?”

“Because they admire you, all of you” she answered simply. Bramblepaw stumbled, his paws fumbling beneath him at the words, Sorrelshine righting him as she continued.

“They admire us? Why?!”

“While the other clans may have forgotten, Windclan holds the stories of our ancestors close. We tell them to each other from generation to generation, using the wind to store our memories, our lessons, so we need not learn them the hard way again. We remember those who are good to us just as we remember those who harm us. Fireheart and Graystripe saved us from exile, Fireheart saved us again from a pointless battle caused by dogs. She’s a kind cat and Windclan remembers these kinds of things. When we look at you and your littermates, we don’t see Tigerstar. We see her, and we see just how much like her, you four are and how much you four will be. Just like how Tallstar saw all that potential in my brother. We know that given time, you will be warriors and medicine cats Windclan can be proud of.”

Bramblepaw was awed by the conviction in her voice and the surety in her words, she truly believes that they had something Windclan would value. “Why do you know these stories? About Tallstar? And the exile? I know it’s important to remember but wouldn’t it make them, I don’t know, feel bad for others to know these things?”

“Maybe, but we feel that it is important. A leader, a deputy, a medicine cat, even the toughest warrior, are all just cats at the end of the day. We tell these stories to serve as lessons to those that come after us so that their path may be easier than our own, so that they know they are not alone, even in their struggles. Windclan admires cats who leave behind a tale worth telling, that’s why they still talk about your mother and Tallstar and his father. They admire you and your littermates, because despite the actions of others, your father, your old leader, you keep going. You adapt, you listen to our stories, you engage with those around you. You have become part of us, more than just a vote could ever decide. Regardless of what you feel, you are Windclan. You, and no one else, decide your story.”

At the end of her words, the two finally emerged from the tunnels, the darkness giving way to sunlight, rising distantly over the mountains to bathe the moors in its golden light, warming the tabby stripes on his pelt.

He was the son of Fireheart.

The sole brother of his three sisters.

The apprentice of Deadfoot.

The friend to Gorsepaw, Eagleflight, and Crowkit.

He was the son of Tigerstar.

But most importantly, he was an apprentice of Windclan.

As he gazed out over the fields that had become his home, he finally, finally felt that pressure lift from his shoulders. He was home.

“I need yarrow, it’s a small pale green plant with tiny white flowers. Cinderheart will have some in her den” she commands, her voice bring back memories of Gorsepaw, blood marring the fur on her paws. She shakes the memories away, Sorrelkit needs her.

Mousefur charges back into camp to find the herbs while she leans over the kit, taking note of the bubbles frothing at her mouth. Mistyfoot paces around them nervously, “what can we do to help?”

“Hold her still,” Leafpaw demands, Mistyfoot moving over to gently hold the shekit steady. Leafpaw takes a deep breath before gently opening the kits jaw and scooping the berry remains out of her mouth, for once grateful for being a smaller cat with smaller paws. The kits body is warm to the touch, and she panics quietly, praying to Starclan that Mousefur finds the yarrow soon.

“I’ve gotten out all I can,” she meows, carefully laying the kit down, trying to open her airways. With a thankful sigh, Mousefur leaps back into the clearing, a white shecat following close behind her.

“Sorrelkit!” The queen cries, trying to rush over to her daughter. Whitetail and Tallstar block the way. “Let Leafpaw work,” Whitetail meows, voice worried but firm.

Leafpaw blinks gratefully at her before turning to Mousefur, “chew some of them up but don’t swallow any,” she meows. She grabs for her own pile of leaves and chews quickly, not even wincing at the bitter taste. Quickly but carefully, she shoves the halfchewed mixture into the kits mouth, stroking her throat gently to encourage her to swallow.

“Come on,” she murmurs, breathily, “that’s it. Keep fighting.” For a moment, nothing happens, the kit’s thrashing growing steadily weaker and Leafpaw fears that she has failed. She reaches for more of the herb when the kit shudders and starts to vomit out the leaves. Leafpaw feels relief wash over her body when she spots chucks of berry in the mixture.

“Good work, Sorrelkit,” she praises, taking more of the mixture from Mousefur to repeat the process. “You’re going to be just fine,” she soothes, as the kit snuffles weakly at her paws, tired but alive.

Cinderheart and Brackenfur choose that moment to burst into the clearing, the gray shecat spotting them and limping over swiftly. She sniffs the kit carefully, expertly analysing the situation before nodding. “Well done,” she murmurs quietly into Leafpaw’s ear before picking the kit up. “I need to get her into my den, but she should be fine. Leafpaw got her yarrow just in time.”

The kits mother starts crying in relief, following Cinderheart back into the camp, eyes locked on her daughter. Leafpaw wonders if that was how Fireheart looked at her when she was sick with greencough and feels a stab of warmth for her mother’s unending love.

A form casts a shadow over her tabby pelt, and she glances up to meet Tallstar’s eyes. “You did well,” he praises, eyes glowing with pride. Exhausted, she smiles warmly back.

Mousefur trades words with Brackenfur, sending him back into camp before turning to face Tallstar. “Thunderclan thanks you for your help,” she meows, dipping her head respectfully to him.

Tallstar returns it with his own, “no clan would leave a kit in need,” he responds.

Darkstripe spat from where Sandstorm and Graystripe continued to have him pinned when Graystripe shifted to be closer. “Now’s that matter of what to do with this traitor.”

Mousefur glared at him in disgust, “lets just get him into camp. Whitestorm can deal with him later.” The others nodded in agreement.

“We need to get home now,” Tallstar spoke, gazing at the small crew, “but if you ever need aid from us, do not hesitate. We will not turn away those who need it.”

Mousefur met his gaze evenly, as the most senior Thunderclan warrior there aside, “Thunderclan thanks you for your offer. Sandstorm and Mistyfoot will escort you to the boarder, may Starclan light your path.”

“And yours,” Tallstar murmers.

The group walks in silence to the boarder, too much to say but not enough time to say it. Just before they leave to return to camp, Sandstorm speaks up, eyes locking onto Leafpaw’s as she speaks.

“We know that the battle with Bloodclan is soon and Thunderclan is prepared to fight.”

Mistyfoot nudges her gently, “are you sure this is the time?” She hisses, eyeing them cautiously.

Sandstorm only nodded, “we don’t know what is happening in Shadowclan or Riverclan.” Mistyfoot flinches at the name of her old clan, and Leafpaw wonders again what she and Graystripe are doing in Thunderclan. “But we, that is, some of us, are prepared to fight with you.”

Tallstar eyed her appreciatively, “and what of your leader? You do know what it is that you are suggesting?”

Sandstorm merely lowered her head, “Bluestar has changed, something in her is broken and I am unsure if it will ever be fixed but Fireheart was my friend, and I should have done more to support her then I did. I am not one for repeating my mistakes. I will not stake my clanmates lives on short-lived pride. When the time comes, wait for us.”

Tallstar stares at Mistyfoot, “do you also share her convictions?”

Mistyfoot hesitated before speaking, “a lot of things have become clearer to me with time. I am still working on figuring everything out.” About what, she did not specify, and no one pushed. “But Fireheart is my friend. She saved the lives of my kits; she saved the lives of my clanmates. She brought us hope when we had none left. I cannot speak for Riverclan but I can speak for myself when I say that I would follow her anywhere and she follows you.”

Tallstar nodded in respect to her words, “very well. Till we meet again then and may Starclan light your path.”

On the way back to camp, Leafpaw thought back to the words of the prophecy, reflecting on them in a new light.

‘How many cats are willing to fight just for Fireheart? How many cats has she inspired to do the right thing, regardless of clan law or expectations?'

'How lucky am I, to be able to call this cat my mother.’

Chapter Text

Tawnypaw froze, eyes wide as claws swung down towards her. Thinking quickly, she darted forward and thrusted her shoulder up into the body above her, hearing a loud ‘oomph’ sound as she did so and causing the attacking cat to slip onto her side, giving Tawnypaw the perfect opportunity to lunge forward and clamp her teeth into the cat’s scruff, shaking madly. The body below her started to shuffle, eventually, a laughing noise breaking out as the cat breaks free from her grip, sending her bowling backwards onto her tail.

“I won!” Tawnypaw cried out, leaping back onto her paws, and prancing around her mentor excitedly.

“Well played kit,” Robinwing meowed, shaking out her scruff, “but maybe next time go for somewhere a bit easier to keep a hold of. Your still too small to really be able to shake a full-grown cat.” Tawnypaw didn’t really hear her, too busy dancing around the clearing, proud that she had finally managed to at least pin her mentor down.

“But that was good right? You didn’t see it coming?!” Robingwing let out another chuckle, sitting down to groom down her ruffled fur with quick licks, giving a satisfied nod when she was done.

“It was good. I didn’t expect you to charge forward like that. You are lucky though, if things had gone differently, if you hadn’t gotten the angle just right or had I been a bigger cat, I would have stayed on my paws and then what would you have done?”

Tawnypaw paused consideringly, “tried to get to the side?”

Robinwing flicked an ear, “maybe, but I would have had time to squash you before you could do that.”

Tawnypaw frowned, “not if I was fast enough,” she countered.

“You can be fast but there will always be someone faster,” the light brown shecat meowed. “You are fast, but speed won’t always save you and when you are smaller, strength won’t help you either.”

Tawnypaw stopped her pacing and came to stand in front of her mentor, “then what do I do?”

“You think smarter. Part of the reasons the clans have had so much success is that we don’t fight alone. This battle, I won’t lie to you Tawnypaw, it will not be glamourous. If there comes a moment in that battle where you face a threat you can’t beat, don’t be ashamed to ask for help or if it comes down to it, to run.”

Tawnypaw stared at her mentor in shock, anger brewing in her eyes like a storm on the horizon. “I can’t do that! This is our home! How could you expect me not to fight?!” The anger faded from her voice, “do you not think I’m good enough?”

Robinwing shook her head quickly, “no, Tawnypaw that’s not it. It’s just...” She paused, thinking over her words carefully. “Tawnypaw, you are a capable cat and are growing into a fine warrior, but these cats don’t care for our rules. They will kill without hesitation, and we’ve all seen what damage they can do. I don’t want to lose you before you even get a chance to earn your warrior’s name. Windclan can survive without our territory, it won’t be pretty, but we can do it. What we can’t survive with is our clanmates. Your family and your friends need you. I would never ask you not to fight but I just want you to be prepared. If it comes down to it, promise me that you’ll save yourself?”

Tawnypaw’s tail thrashed behind her. “I can’t do that. You can’t ask me to do that. This is my home, my clan, my clanmates too. You are all my family, and I won’t leave you, any of you. You said that Windclan stands for each other! I know that I might die, that we all might die. But I’d rather die fighting with my clan then run away and let them all down!”

Tawnypaw tried not to think of the time where she had considered leaving Windclan back when she was just barely an apprentice and the stares had gotten to be too much. Robinwing had saved her then, even if she hadn’t known how close she had come to treading a different path, one warped by shadows. Now, she had to return the favour.

Robinwing stared at her, shock growing in her gaze before a sadness overtook them. “I-you’re right. I’m sorry. It's just. The last time we had a battle this serious, we lost many cats and our home at the same time. I lost my mate and even when I got him back, part of us was gone. I don’t want to lose another cat but you’re right. I don’t have the right to ask this of you. Just, promise me that you won’t fight alone? You’ll get help if you need it?”

Tawnypaw felt the fight drain out of her, pushing her head into her mentor’s muzzle, “of course I will. Windclan stand’s together, after all.” 

Robinwing let out a choked purr but nuzzled her back gently, “wise words.”

Tawnypaw looks up at her, blinking fondly, “well, I learned from the best.”

Leafpaw should be asleep. It was late and she was tired. She had just saved the life of a Thunderclan kit who in any other timeline would have been a friend. She just knew it. But here she was, curled tightly in her nest in the medicine cat den, listening to the wind howling above her, and trying to not to fall asleep.

Because if she fell asleep. She would see them again. She would see the blood again, staining her white paws red. She could scent the iron in the air, the tang making her nose burn as she heaves, the bloody water rising up to choke her, dragging her down into its depths.

She jolts awake with a startled cry, her legs shaking as she scrambled about in her mossy nest. A quick glance around confirms that she is still in the medicine cat den. ‘I must have fallen asleep without even realising it,’ she thinks, curling back tighter into her nest.

Something was missing though and as she listens for any noises in the darkness, she notices what is absent. ‘Where’s Barkface? He was asleep earlier?’ Getting gently to her paws, she pads over and sniffs at her mentor’s nest, the scent starting to fade, indicating that he must have left it recently.

“Barkface?” She calls out softly, not expecting a response but still disappointed when she does not hear a reply. With a sigh, she makes to go back to her nest, but a rustling noise makes her pause.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Barkface meows, pausing at the entrance, “no one would expect you to fight like this.” Who is he speaking to?’ She wonders, before turning to head back into her nest. Regardless, she shouldn’t eavesdrop. The next voice, however, makes her stop in her tracks.

“We all have to fight,” Fireheart meows, her voice soft and weary. “I just wanted to get your opinion.”

Barkface snorts, “well, I’ve given you, my opinion. I’m not even sure why you’re asking if you’re not going to listen to it.” Fireheart chuckles softly, the voices growing closer to the den.  Leafpaw huddles further into the shadows, thankful for once for the dark tiger-like stripes that help blend her form into the walls and away from peering eyes. ‘Why would Fireheart not want to fight?’ she muses, stopping to listen as the conversation continues.

“I respect your opinion plenty. It’s just that-” Her voice cuts off, wavering slightly. “I need to do the best by them, by all of them but I can’t do that if we’re all dead. I have to fight. Starclan needs me to fight. Fire alone will save the clans, after all.” Her voice is bitter.

The conversation cuts off, Leafpaw can make out the sounds of crickets chirping quietly in the cool night air. A flicker of guilt flutters through her but she stays put, not wanting to get caught just yet.

“Fire needs fuel to burn,” Barkface meows, finally. “Take care of yourself Fireheart. We all need you.”

Theres a rustle at the entrance and Leafpaw takes the moment to rush back towards her nest and curl up tightly, draping her tail over her nose and slowing her breathing to feign sleep.  She hears Barkface pad into the den before his pawsteps stop. When he speaks, she can hear him clearly.

“I wish you had been born in brighter times, young one,” he meows softly, before she hears more pawsteps and another rustling noise signifying him curling up into his nest. It’s not until his breathing has slowed and his movements stilled, that Leafpaw lifts her head up from where she had tucked it into her side. She gazes out the den entrance, catching glimpses of the stars shining above.

‘So do I,’ she thinks.

Bramblepaw sighed, heaving another rabbit onto the second freshkill pile. That was the fourth trip he had made into the camp today and he felt like one more step would cause his paws to fall off. Deadfoot had ordered extra hunting patrols to stock up a second pile of prey so that they would be well fed before the battle but hunting rabbits was always a challenge despite Windclan’s speed.

Thankfully, rabbits weren’t their only food supply, just the main one. Bramblepaw spotted a lapwing amongst the pile and contemplated taking it for himself. Just as he went to grab it, a voice called his name. With a sigh and a last mournful look at the bird, he turned and padded over to Deadfoot, the black tom greeting him with a chirp as he sat down in front of him.

“Bramblepaw, I have a mission for you.” Despite his growing exhaustion, the young tom lit up at his mentors’ words.

“A mission? What for!?”

“I need you to fetch Tallstar for me. I need to discuss our progress with him, but I need to do it before sundown.” Bramblepaw drooped slightly at the objective, ‘just fetching his leader? He had hoped for something cooler than that.’

Deadfoot chuckled, flicking the tom’s ear with his tail gently. “This is very important,” he scolds gently, “we have one day left before we have to declare our decision to Bloodclan and I need to ensure that we are all on the same page so that we can have the greatest odds of success and that means, lots of boring discussions. Now get fetch Tallstar, he should be by Outlook Rock training with some of the younger warriors.”

Bramblepaw sighed but got to his paws regardless and headed towards the camp exit. Deadfoot nudged him gently as he passed, “thank you. After this, you may rest.” Bramblepaw blinks at his mentor in thanks, a tired grin on his face, before he hurries away. The sooner he got to Tallstar the better.

He heard them before he saw them. The sounds of cats fighting. Tension prickled along his spine and his claws unsheathed to steady himself. Poking his way through the tall grass, he let out a sigh of relief when he spotted his leader and fellow clanmates, still training.

Tawnyfur was the first to spot him, the golden brown shecat greeting him with a warm meow and a high tail as he padded over, side stepping the two still scuffling toms.

“Ah! Fine, I yield!” Webfoot barks out, as Eagleflight slams him into the ground with a growl.

“Ahha! You know what that means!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll do your chores for the next moon, now get off of me you big lump!”

The dark grey tabby lets out a disgruntled groan as he heaves himself to his paws, Eagleflight sliding off him with a chuckle. Tallstar trots over, waving his long tail behind him in a friendly hello as he turns to face the three warriors.

“Well done, you three. Head on back to camp and get something to eat. You’ve certainly earned it today.” The three dip their heads politely to him before turning back to camp, Eagleflight giving Bramblepaw a friendly nudge as he passes.

“Bramblepaw,” Tallstar meows, voice warm, “I’m presuming Deadfoot sent you?”

Bramblepaw nodded, feeling a little out of place talking to his clan leader on his own. He was a kit the last time the two really spoke, although the memory had faded a bit and sometimes, he wondered if he made it all up, Tallstar certainly never brought it up.

Shaking the thoughts away, he realised he never responded to Tallstar’s question. Feeling his ears heat up, he responded quickly with “Deadfoot says that he needs to discuss the clans progress with you. He’s waiting back at camp.”

The stoic leader nodded, “I’ll head back now then but I hope he’s in not too big of a rush. Those three are fine young warriors but I’m not as young as I once was so I think I’ll walk back.” The leader turned his curious eyes on the apprentice, “care to join me? I know Deadfoot, I trained him after all, and I’ll bet he had you run off your paws all day.”

Not wanting to embarrass himself anymore, Bramblepaw merely fell into step with his leader as he set a gentle yet steady pace back to camp. For a moment, the two walk in silence, Bramblepaw taking the moment to appreciate the calm after such a hectic day.

Tallstar is the first to break the silence, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

For a heartbeat, Bramblepaw panics, wondering what the tom could have to talk to him about. ‘I didn’t think anyone knew that it was him who put the fire ant in Squirrelpaw’s nest?’

“I know that you and your family has been in Windclan for several moons now but in all the chaos, I never got the chance to truly ask how you were settling in.”

Bramblepaw gives a shaky grin, a little unnerved by the turn of events. “We’ve been settling in just fine, I think,” he responds. “I think they all really like it here.”

Tallstar maintains his walk as he speaks, “and what about you? Do you like it here?”

Bramblepaw took the time to carefully think through his answer, feeling like his leader wasn’t the sort of cat to appreciate basic platitudes. “I wasn’t sure at first,” he admits, carefully eyeing Tallstar out of the corner of his eye for his reaction. When the older tom does nothing but continue along, he preservers. “It was all so different, and I missed Thunderclan even if it wasn’t all that great, but I do like it here. I like running and I like my friends. It’s different but a good different? I feel… free here.”

Tallstar nods in understanding, “I understand that. Sometimes it takes a moment for a place to truly feel like home.”

“Is that what it was like for you? When you came back to Windclan?” He blurts out without thinking, his blush intensifying under his leader’s incredulous stare.

For a moment, he thinks in his trouble, silently praying to Starclan to look after his family before Tallstar sighs fondly, “I see someone told you my story.” Bramblepaw stays silent, not wanting to put his paw in his mouth again. “I’m not upset you know. In fact, I’m glad it’s still being passed around. It might save someone else the trouble of what I went through, they might feel less alone.”

“They do,” he responds automatically, not meeting his leader’s gaze. Tallstar says nothing, merely draping his long tail over the tabby’s shoulders for a moment before camp appears in their view.

“Bramblepaw,” he meows, and the young tom turns to face him, surprised at the sight of his leader lost for words. “I haven’t told this story to anyone; it is very personal and its not something that should be privy to just anyone’s ears.”

Bramblepaw nods, understanding. “I won’t tell anyone,” he meows earnestly.

Tallstar stares at him fondly, a hint of something sadder in his gaze. “When I came back, many people asked me what prompted me to return, what motivated me to come home. Truthfully, it wasn’t something but someone.” Bramblepaw thinks back to Sorrelshine’s words and wonders if her mother ever knew that she had been correct.

“I met someone who joined me on my quest, and we grew close. I owe him my life and much more.” His leader’s eyes glaze over, clearly looking at something in the past.

Bramblepaw sometimes still sees that expression on his mother’s face and the realisation has him reeling quietly. “You loved him, didn’t you?”

Tallstar nods slowly. “I did,” he admits. “I still do.”

Bramblepaw tilts his head curiously, “if you loved him so badly, why didn’t you stay with him? Or he come here with you?”

Tallstar exhales softly, a hint of melancholy in his meow. “Sometimes love just isn’t enough. I loved him and he loved me, but it wouldn’t have worked. It was the right love but at the wrong place and the wrong time.”

“Why wouldn’t it have worked? Sorrelshine said the clans had taken in rouges before?”

Tallstar shakes his head, “his name was Jake. And he was a kittypet.”

For the second time that day, Bramblepaw was speechless. Tallstar continues, “he wasn’t made for clan life, and I couldn’t abandon my clan for good. The moons we had together were some of my best, but all good things must come to an end.”

Bramblepaw bit back a growl, “so he couldn’t join because he was a kittypet!? Did you forget that my mother was a kittypet! Kittypet’s not good enough?!”

Tallstar glares at him, taking Bramblepaw aback by the fire in his eyes. “I could never forget your mother!” Tallstar closes his eyes, the conversation clearly not going how he thought it would. “Your mother and Jake are two different cases. Jake told me himself that he could never live the life of a warrior, he knew the clans would never accept him. He enjoyed travelling with me, but he loved the comfort of knowing he had a safe space to return to more. Your mother was the opposite. You are the opposite.”

Bramblepaw feels the anger leave him in a gust, muscles loosening as he puts away his claws which he hadn’t realised he had been digging into the dirt. “Why are you telling me this?” He had wondered that at the start, why his leader would tell him a story that could have gotten him into some serious trouble. Half-clan relationships, not to mention a kittypet lover, that would have surely had some repercussions, even with the waves Fireheart had started.

“Jake was a very unique cat, in more ways than one. He was always the brightest in any gathering, literally and metaphorically speaking. Fireheart reminds me of him every day. As do you and your sisters.” Bramblepaw is not following and clearly Tallstar picks up on this. “When Fireheart came to guide Windclan home, for a moment, for a split second, I thought it was Jake, coming to rescue me again. But when I blinked, it was just her and I knew, without a doubt, that she was Jake’s kit.”

Bramblepaw was quickly growing tired of the number of times he had been sent reeling in this conversation. “So, what, you let us into Windclan because of your former mate?”

Tallstar is quick to cut him off. “No! At first, maybe that played a part, but I let you and your mother join Windclan because it was the right thing to do. Jake is gone now; I don’t know where he is but it’s not with me, but your mother needed help and Windclan could offer it, especially to the cat who had already saved us once. You and your family despite your similar appearances and personalities, are very different from Jake. You have shown me that blood doesn’t mean everything. I couldn’t convince Jake to become a warrior and the clans back then would have never let him join. You and your family have given me a chance to right that mistake, the mistake I made in letting him go so easily, or at least not staying in touch more. You’ve given me a chance to see that he was okay, without me, and that let me move on after so many moons wondering."

"You, set me, free.”

Back at camp, Tallstar heads to his den, with a quick reminder to tell Deadfoot he was back. The two had walked the rest of the way back to camp in silence, Bramblepaw still shocked that Tallstar had known and had loved his grandfather. He wondered if Fireheart knew but shook his head. If she knew, she would have told them.

Regardless, something in him felt settled. Like he was finally able to stop running and could catch his breath. He and his family were welcomed here for more reasons than one and that was a relief he didn’t know he needed.

Spotting his mentor, he rushed over on aching paws to rely Tallstar’s message. Deadfoot nodded in thanks, “I take it you’re tired?”

Bramblepaw only sighs loudly, flopping exaggeratedly onto his back, and rolling in the dirt. “Exhausted!”

Deadfoot smirks fondly, whiskers twitching in amusement, “I left something for you by your nest. So go and get some rest, it’ll be another big day tomorrow.”

Bramblepaw stands, shaking at his fur and ignoring his mentors yelp as dirt showers him. Pushing his head into his mentor’s shoulders affectionately, he smiles when he feels Deadfoot lick his head gently. “Go get some rest.”

With a big yawn, he pushed his way into the apprentice den, laughing lightly when he hears Tawnypaw’s gentle snores. His grin grew even wider when he spotted his nest, the same lapwing he had been eyeing earlier sitting beside it. With a grateful chirp, he dug into his meal before curling up in his nest.

He well and truly loved his clan.

Squirrelpaw stares as cats rush below her, running to and froe like ants from a disturbed ant’s nest. She should join them, should help, but she can’t. She just finds herself sitting there, on the crest of the camp, watching.

“Squirrelpaw! There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Tornear want’s us on a boarder patrol soon.” Squirrelpaw doesn’t respond, can’t bring herself to tear her vision away from her clanmates frantic movements, even as Gorsepaw fumbles his way over to her, dislodging a few stones and sending them tumbling down into the sandy caverns below. “Squirrelpaw, did you hear me? Tornear wants us-”

The brown tabby tom pauses when he spots the expression on his face, concern overwhelming his features. “Squirrelpaw, are you alright?” Her meow catches in her throat, tight and constricting like a viper, her eyes dry as they continue to stare into camp. “Squirrelpaw?”

“Are you scared?” She meows, not lifting her gaze to watch as he settles in beside her.

“I’m scared of a lot of things,” the young tom meows honestly. “Dogs, being stuck in a tunnel, Tawnypaw when she’s angry, sheep. But I don’t see how any of those a relevant?”

“You’re scared of sheep?” She asks, incredulous, finally tearing her vision away to look at Gorsepaw who blushes and folds his ears and whiskers back.

“They’re so big and fluffy! They could suffocate me if they fell on me!” She laughs, her throat loosening and she thinks, when she sees his proud expression, that that was his goal all along.

For a heartbeat, the two sit in silence just watching the clan below them.

“He’s going to give me my warriors name tonight,” Gorsepaw meows, conversationally.

Squirrelpaw jumps at the disruption but as the words register, she smiles and slaps a paw on his shoulder, “that’s amazing, Gorsepaw! You definitely deserve it!”

Gorsepaw frowns, a change in mood overtaking him as he swings his head round to face her. “Do I? Do I really? We all know he’s just giving me my name because there’s a good chance, we all die in the next few days.”

Squirrelpaw’s face falls and she can’t find the energy to pick her energy back up when Gorsepaw’s eyes grow panicked. “I-I mean, It’s great, really… It’s just,” he sighs and lets the last pretense of good will drop. “We might die,” he meows, clearly annoyed at having dragged the mood down again but unable to find a way to turn it back around.

She nods mutely in understanding. It’s part of the reason she had been up here after all. She wanted to take it all in. Just-just in case she lost it all in the end.

The silence grew between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable like she thought it would be. It rarely was with Gorsepaw. He was just so calm and open that it was like all her thorny barriers just didn’t affect him.

“Are you scared of dying?” She hardly registers her own words, spoken as soft as they were. She turns to face him and sees a glimmer in his eyes. Her vision wonders over the scars staining his pelt from where he had nearly died, only Leafpaw remembering what to do keeping him alive until she could return with help. “Because I am but what scares me more is losing you. Losing mother, or Bramblepaw, or Tawnypaw, or Leafpaw. Or losing Morningflower, or Ashfoot, or Tornear, or Eagleflight, or Crowkit. I already almost lost you and it was the scariest feeling in the world.”

She trembles at the memory, like she can almost smell the tang of iron in the air, could almost feel his blood clogging the fur around her paws as she ran desperately towards camp, hoping, praying to Starclan, that she would be fast enough. Gorsepaw moves closer to her, stopping before he settles right beside her when she doesn’t move away. Their pelts brush together, a tabby brown and a bright flaming red, an echo of a past turned bloody.

“You saved me,” he meowed.

Squirrelpaw shook her head, “Leafpaw saved you. So did Barkface. I just ran to get him.”

Gorsepaw turns to face her, eyes earnest, “they saved me but so did you. You got Barkface. I’m alive because of you.” She buries her face in his shoulder, unable to look at the scars still marring his pelt. She thinks back to Cloudtail and Brightheart, and wonders if all the cats close to her are just destined to get hurt.

Her ear ached like a phantom pain. ‘Huh, she had almost forgotten about that when Smallear had ripped open her ear. Maybe she was just destined to get hurt.’

Gorsepaw wraps her tail around her, “yeah, I am.”

She blinks, confused at the statement, “what?”

“I am scared to die,” he meows simply, “to answer your question and I am also scared to lose you.”

“But,” he hesitates, before soldiering on. “I think your worth it. I think you’re all worth it," he clarifies quickly, Squirrelpaw watching in fascination as a pink blush takes over his face. His next words sober her.

"I think, I’d rather die knowing I got to live alongside all of you, then live and have never done anything with my life.”

Squirrelpaw leans onto his shoulder, Gorsepaw’s tail tightening around her as they continue to stare into the camp. “Can’t argue with that,” she meows, heart burning at his words. A new atmosphere settles around them, but words cannot yet describe it. Her mother once described love as butterflies in the stomach, but her belly just burns and tumbles like logs in a fire. Maybe her butterflies have fiery wings?

A sharp cry jolts them apart and she turns to spot her mentor heading towards them. “Squirrelpaw! Gorsepaw! Do I need to have someone with you at all times!? Come on, the boarder patrol will leave without us!” Tornear calls out, the gray tabby tom waiting halfway up the rocky path to them.

“They can’t leave without us! Theres not enough cats without us to even call it a patrol!” She yells back, pushing the moment away for the time being. Tornear rolls his eyes so hard Squirrelpaw can hear it from here.

“Then you better hurry, or I’ll put you on look out duty!”

Squirrelpaw and Gorsepaw share a panicked look before rushing down to Tornear. “Being a look out is the most boring job out there!” Squirrelpaw complains, Gorsepaw laughing as she dances around Tornear, almost tripping the tom up.

Tornear chuckles, “somehow, I think you’ll find a way to make it interesting.

Squirrelpaw smirks, “oh, absolutely!”

Tornear sighs before hurrying ahead with a short cry of “keep up,” over his shoulder.

Gorsepaw moves to follow him only to be halted by Squirrelpaw’s tail. “Hey,” she meows, thankful her red fur helps hide her blush. “I just wanted to say thank you, for back there.”

Gorsepaw smiles at her, and she feels her heart skip a beat. “Anytime,” he meows simply.

With a flicker of courage, she quickly twines her tail with his and licks his cheek before dashing after her mentor.

When Gorsepaw catches up with her, the two trade a look before breaking into giggles.

Squirrelpaw knew that with her family and her friends by her side, she would never be alone.

Maybe they would die but here, in her home, surrounded by the cats she loves and the cats who love her, she was living.

Chapter Text

As the sky slowly turned orange from the sun rising over the distant horizon, bathing Thunderclan’s camp in it’s warm amber light, Cloudtail wondered when had his life gotten so out of control.

When he was younger, it had all seemed so simple. He would become a warrior, the best of them, and he would prove to the clans that his kittypet origins did not define him.

Now, one of his best friends was dead, his other friend scarred for life. His own back still ached, scars standing out from his white fur like daisies in fresh snow, still pink and healing.

Sorrelkit was in the medicine cat den still recovering from her poisoning and Darkstripe had been exiled, no doubt running to Bloodclan, like the traitor he is. He could still hear Willowpelt’s cries of agony when the truth of her eldest son’s actions against her daughter had come to light, Graystripe standing beside his mother in solidarity.

His aunt and cousins were lost to him, his adoptive siblings were terrified, his biological parents were risking their lives spying on Bloodclan, he hadn’t spoken to his adoptive mother in several moons, and his home was due to be razed to the ground in only a day’s time.

‘What has happened to us?’ he wondered.

Before, he would go speak to Fireheart, trusting his mentor to sort out whatever sort of childish complication his young self threw at her. He could maybe go to Sandstorm, the shecat who had finished his training with a grim sort of determination and grit after Fireheart had retired to the nursery, but the two had never truly clicked in the same way. Cloudtail had always felt like she was training him solely as a way to prove herself, particularly after Fireheart was banished, and less to actually bond with him. He took to her teachings because being a warrior would be the best way he could help his family and his clan but while they were clanmates and tentative friends, they never really formed that true mentor-apprentice relationship like he had had with his aunt.

When he got like this, he would normally go speak to Yellowfang, who’s sharp wit had undoubtedly rub off on Fireheart and he hoped, on him as well. The old, grouchy shecat had had a talent for bringing him out of his funk and forcing him back into the moment, especially as the plans to work around Bluestar had started to take off but well, she was gone now.

Just like Swiftclaw.

His adoptive littermates were still apprentices, and he couldn’t burden them with this. Brightheart, his heart flipped at the name, was busy training with Longtail and Thornclaw, the two working to adapt her new disabilities to a unique fighting style and had made it clear they were not to be interrupted.

The rest of the alliance was busy preparing for Bloodclan’s eventual attack, stocking up the fresh-kill pile and tightening the brambles that lined the camp walls, all while Bluestar had all but locked herself in her den. He could go help them and he would, but for now, he just needed to sit.

Despite being surrounded by his many clanmates, he felt so incredibly alone.

“Some big thoughts this morning?”

The soft, tentative voice drew him out of his musings, and he felt himself unintentionally tense up when he locked eyes with the soft green orbs of his adoptive mother.

After her treatment of Fireheart, the two had grown distant. Brindleface struggling to balance her sudden dislike of Fireheart and her desire to push the blame onto the shecat as a way to alleviate her pain, unintentionally alienating her adoptive son, who found himself the sole recipient of his clan’s distrust after her leaving. Cloudtail had never truly been able to forgive her for that, she was one of the cats who had pushed away his aunt and his cousins and he could still see the cold look in her eyes when he had woken up and asked for his aunt and had been told what had happened. His mother had always been beautiful but that look on her face that day had been ugly.

For her sake, she had tried, to reach out to her eldest son but each time, Cloudtail had a ready excuse. Sandstorm needed him on a hunting patrol. Whitestorm promised to teach him a new battle move. He was helping Cinderheart collect herbs. Eventually, she had stopped trying but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember when. It was like the closeness they had had when he was a kit had just up and vanished overnight.

He knew it confused his siblings, Fernpaw and Ashpaw had tried to pry into it but how could he simplify the complicated tangle of his feelings about his mother and his aunt into something they could understand. Because the truth was, they could never understand.

They were family, but they weren’t kin. Fireheart and her kits had been his only kin.

Fireheart had been his mentor and his idol, his only proof that kittypet’s were capable of being great warriors and Brindleface had taken her from him. He lost his aunt that day, but it also cost him his mother and now, as she sits down beside him, all nervous energy and anxious tail flicks, he feels that ache suddenly so keenly in his chest. He longs to run to her and bury herself into her soft belly fur like he had as a kit when Darkstripe had been making fun of his kittypet origins, but he held himself back, barely.

“There’s lots of things to think about,” he murmured in response, returning his gaze to the rising sun.

“That is true,” she meowed back, following his lead. He could see her nervous fidgeting out of the corner of his eyes. “I feel like I’ve hardly seen you these last couple moons.”

“It’s been busy.”

“It has, but I’d hoped you’d still have time for your mother.”

“I’d hoped to have time for my aunt too.”

There, he said it. It hangs loud in the silence as his mother’s voice stops short. She swallows and Cloudtail watches with detached interest as a look of conflict crosses over her face.

“We-it-it was complicated-I-we didn’t mean for it to end as it did, you know that right?”

He turns to face her, his whiskers pinned back in annoyance. “Oh, you didn’t mean for Fireheart and four innocent kits to get exiled? What did you think would happen to them when you and the rest turned against them?! You helped drive her away!”

His mother faces him with pleading eyes, “I know. We-I-made a mistake. I know that now and if I could go back and change it I would, but I can’t.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not going to bring them back.”

Tears filled her eyes and Cloudtail couldn’t find it in himself to care because his aunt was gone, his friend was dead, and his back still ached so badly he found himself waking each night with a scream in his throat and tears blurring his vision, whispers of ‘pack pack kill kill’ echoing in his brain.

“I know,” she whispers, a lone tear tracing the tabby markings on her face. The growl that had been building in his throat petters out at the broken sight before him. His mother had been young in his memories, and he wonders when had the tinges of grey began staining her muzzle?

“I’m sorry,” she breathes.

Cloudtail had expected many things in life, but he had never expected those words from his mother. For a heartbeat, he says nothing, and he watches the last glimmer of hope slip away from her body, the swell of energy leaving her paws weary and her tail drooping. “I love you,” she meows, visibly trembling when he can’t find his tongue to respond.

She makes to leave, and he swallows as he knows what he was to do. “I know,” he meows.

She whirls round to face him, and Cloudtail thinks back to the tiny fluffy kit he had been who had run into his mother’s paws, mouth moving at a mile per second. She had smiled at him so brilliantly and listened with rapt attention as he divulged stories of his latest escapades as Thunderclan’s brilliant leader, Cloudstar, with Ashfoot and Fernclaw as his loyal deputies. She would love and nuzzle him gently, assuring him that he would make a brilliant warrior one day.

He listens to that little kit and finally breaks, rushing towards his mother and burying his face in her neck fur, wrapping his tail around her back as she sobs into his shoulder. Things weren’t alright between them, they still had much to unpack, but as Brindleface sits back to breath, eyes looking at him with so much love that he feels his heart might burst, he knows that they are okay for now.

She might die tomorrow. He might die tomorrow. But for this one moment, they are okay, and he finds that all he wants to do is sit with his mother and watch as the sun continues to rise.

Fireheart felt weary and tired.

Her devotion to her clan and her determination to live up to the expectations thrust upon her young shoulders left her worn and fit to break. She had done her duties as quickly as she could, assisting Deadfoot with patrols and practices before taking the first chance she could to abscond from the camp and find a place to breath and fan her flames back to life again. She wondered if this was how Bluestar felt when her prophecy came breathing down her neck. Speaking of breathing, she drew in a sharp breath, feeling the tang of a coming chill on the breeze and the once familiar scent of Thunderclan, her former home.

She hadn’t expected to come here, she usually avoids the border between Thunderclan and Windclan with a passion but with her mind fixated on various problems back at camp and the constant worry for her kits and newfound family, her paws had walked the once familiar path to the place where it had all began. Her eyes travelled through the vast undergrowth that curtained Thunderclan’s forests from Windclan’s moors, as if trying to pull answers to her many questions out from the green leaves and well-worn paths.

The sharp crack of a branch causes her ears to twitch forward, and she crouches lower, suddenly well aware of the fact that she was alone in a world haunted by Bloodclan cats. Backing away from the divide, she scans her surroundings but sees nothing.

With a curious tilt to her head, she tentatively stands only to be bowled over by a sudden yowling ball of fur. With a furious, terrified screech, she makes a desperate move and rolls onto her back, squashing her attacker beneath her. When her opponent lets out a huff, she tears herself free and turns to run.

‘Why am I running?’ With a fury in her bones and the tang of blood in her mouth, she whirls around, fangs bared only to stutter to a stop when she meets the familiar wide-eyed stare of Graystripe. His golden-yellow eyes reflect the shock in her own and for a second, the two just stand there, watching each other as if blinking would cause the image to fall away into nothingness.

“Well, doesn’t this seem familiar?” The voice startled her from her mind and when she looks back at Graystripe, sitting so faux-casually in front of her, she is hit with a sense of dejavu so strong it knocks the breath from her lungs. A burst of almost hysterical laughter bubbles up from her chest and out of her throat before she can stop it and Graystripe sends her a quizzical, confused look that just makes her cackle harder, as relief at the lack of danger causes her limbs to tremble. Clearly, it was contagious because he too starts to chuckle then laughs with abandon.

She sways towards him, leaning on his larger, sturdier frame while her chest heaves, trying desperately to catch her breath, desperate giggles still escaping on occasion. For a moment, the two just sit, breathing and watching the clouds move slowly across the sky.

“What are you doing here?” She asks when she can finally breath.

Graystripe’s face shutters before falling flat. “We escaped Riverclan.”

“Escaped!?”

“Tigerstar had all but taken over, using those Bloodclan cats as extra claws. He held me and my kits captive, adding Stonefur and Mistyfoot when he found out they were half-clan. Sandstorm, Cloudtail, Brightheart, and Longtail got us out but…” His voice breaks, “Stonefur got caught in the river, we couldn’t find his body.”

Fireheart’s chest burns, “are-are you okay? Mistyfoot? Featherpaw and Stormpaw?” She thinks of the kits that could have been her own.

He leans back against her, his fluff dwarfing her slender form. “Bluestar didn’t care so Whitestorm gave us sanctuary, we’re safe there for now. Or well, as safe as any of us are.” The feeling of relief that washes over her almost knocks her off her paws at his words.

The two return to a semi-comfortable silence, a layer of uncertainty in the air.

“I’ve missed this.” She turns her head to look up at him, and as if sensing her, he looks down to meet her gaze evenly, a small goofy grin on his face that he’s always had growing softer when he meets her eyes.

“So have I,” she meows back, thinking back to the carefree feeling of youth and the surety of invincibility that came when she had her two best friends by her side.

“Do you think he’s doing okay?” Graystripe asked, unintentionally mirroring her thoughts like usual as he glances over the moors to where the distant farm sits, a mere blur on the horizon. Fireheart thinks back to the last time she had spoken to the tom and smiles, all soft and fond with a flicker of amusement when she remembers the tom blushing at some of Barley’s stories.

“I think he’s just fine.”

Graystripe sighs, “it won’t ever be like that again, will it?”

Fireheart rests her head on his shoulder, “I guess that’s just part of growing up. Time keeps moving and before we know it, we all have lives of our own, outside of one another.”

For so long, it had just been the three of them, joined together by a secret so dark and isolating that they fell into each other’s sway, serving as each other’s anchor, their safe harbor, whenever the storm grew to big to handle alone. Their apprenticeship had been bathed in blood and darkness as much as it had been in light and learning. And oh, how they had learned. Sometimes lessons so harsh that she still woke up with a muffled cry in her throat, claws digging into the soft moss of her nest.

Each time, she had woken with Graypaw and Ravenpaw cuddled into her sides, they had soothed her back to sleep and she had returned the favor in kind. Then Ravenpaw left and it was just Graypaw. And finally, it was just herself.

Maybe that was part of the reason she had fallen for Tigerstar as hard as she did, so desperate to find someone to cradle her flames in the absence of her friends, that she couldn’t care about the damage he had inflicted or would inflict, only wanting someone to curl around her and shelter her from the storm that threatened to stifle her fire for good.

He had been the only one there that was willing to talk to her, and talk she had, desperate for anyone to listen to her, even the cat who inspired most of her fears. Somewhere along the line, that fear turned into passion, she could never really call it love, or at least, not a healthy love, she knew that know but she had been young, and she was alone, and he was a soft voice and a kind smile, and she had walked right into it.

Sometimes, she wondered if he ever truly loved her or if he just loved to control her, if a cat as broken and damaged as he had been, even knew what love looked like? Maybe, as time passed, that ability to love was drained from him, by an errant mentor, a missing father, and a tired mother, that had hardened his heart to protect it from further harm.

She had thought that she could help him, free him from the darkness within, but all she had done was contaminate herself because Tigerstar hadn’t wanted to be saved and, in the end, she had to cut herself free because she had four more lives who needed her now. She wonders and then tries not to think of what would have happened if she hadn’t had her kits, if she would have succumbed to the same darkness that she knew lived in everyone in some shape or form.

Graystripe wraps his tail tighter around her, drawing her out of her thoughts. “We’ll get through this,” he meows. She nods, unable to speak over the lump in her throat. He squeezes her tighter. “We will,” he meows, his voice a promise. He’s grown so much, she thinks, we all have.

A call sounds from the forest behind them and the two jolt at the sudden noise. She is startled to realise the sun had moved in the sky and was well on its way to setting, they had been sitting for much longer than she had realised. He turns to face her apologetic, but she just smiles and touches her nose to his cheek gently, “go.”

He smiles, “you’re my best friend, don’t forget that.”

“And you mine.”

He grins, looking all the more like his dorky apprentice self before turning and vanishing into the undergrowth.

For a moment, her paws itch to follow, as if she could follow him back into a simpler time.

A sweet scent fills the air and halts her in her tracks, a breath shudders through her form.

“Spottedleaf,” she murmurs. The shecat who had been her childhood crush then a good friend and finally her starry guide.

“Starclan is calling you, do not be afraid,” she meows, her voice soft and gentle.

Fireheart closes her eyes.

“Oh Starclan,” she opens her eyes again and looks up at the slowly setting sun, “how can I not be afraid?”

“It is one of my greatest honors, to be able to bestow a warrior name upon a worthwhile apprentice. Gorsepaw, step forward.” Tallstar’s eyes were sad as he gazed at the young tom, youthful eyes staring back at him far too solemn for an occasion of such magnitude.

“Gorsepaw, you come into this world surrounded by loss but in this life, I have seen you gain much. Runningbrook has bestowed many of her great qualities upon you and I have seen you grow into a cat that we can be proud of. You have gained many friends,” he gazes over his loyal warriors, and bites back a smile when he sees Gorsepaw give a bashful grin at his young redfurred friend, “and contributed much to our clan and I know that even in the darkest of times, with warriors like you, I hold no fear. Therefore, I, Tallstar, leader of Windclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn.”

He swallows before he speaks, “Gorsepaw, do promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?” He hates that such words might come true so quickly.

Gorsepaw has always been a thoughtful cat, who tended to think hard before he speaks, often taking long periods of time to reflect on things, unlike his very spirited mentor. He knew he chose well when the two were able to balance each other out. But when Gorsepaw speaks, it is a quick and firm, “I do.” Tallstar has no doubts that he speaks the truth.

“Then by the powers of Starclan, I grant you your warrior name. Gorsepaw, for all that you have lost and all that you have gained. For your quiet stoicism and your fierce loyalty to those who matter to you. For your gentle nature and your tendency to always stand by your friends, you will now be known as Gorseflower. Starclan honours your dedication and your loyalty, and we welcome you as a full warrior of Windclan.”

He leads the call and watches with pride as his clan welcomes a new warrior into their ranks. A smile forms on his face as he watches as Gorsepaw’s mother smothers him in affection, showering her son in love as if to make up for the love his father and littermates were not there to give, like she might never be able to do so again. Runningbrook circles her apprentice, a wide smile on her face as the two chat away happily. Squirrelpaw all but knocks the trio over as she rushes to her friend’s side, her littermates close behind her.

Yes, the sky was darkening, the sun slowly setting on what might be their last day of peace, but he finds his earlier words ring true.

He can hold no fear here when he has Starclan and his warriors by his side.

Bluestar was trapped in a daze, an endless, restless fog that consumed her entire being the like fire of her childhood prophecy. She was drowning in the very waters Goosefeather had predicted oh so long ago.

She wasn’t quite content, that wasn’t the right word. Something still shifted under her skin, made her eyes flicker underneath their lids but she could not find it in herself to care. So, she lay there, back to the entrance, and continued to doze, eyes glazed over and staring at nothing. Nothing real anyway.

She didn’t want to sleep but it was the best way to pass the time. Already the sky had gone dark as the last tendrils of light vanished, taking her fragile sanity with it. Every time she slept, she dreaded the moment she would wake up because in her dreams, she had the power to control her fate.

She was in Thunderclan camp, Oakheart was beside her and he threw his head back and laughed his loud, brilliant laugh that she would never hear again, when their three kits scrambled and wrestled in front of him. Mosskit jumped onto his tail, and he chuckled again, launching himself into their game, paws carefully gentle as he battered his kits around, smiling at their giggles and squeals of delight.

He turned to her with his brilliant amber eyes, a fanged smile, and invited her to join their game. Her heart was warm, and she slowly got to her paws and crouched, a mischievous grin on her face, enticing him to attack. Oakheart growled playfully, the reddish-brown tom leaping at her and whacking at her face with his big paws. She laughed and shoved him aside, sending them both down.

Their kits laughed and before she knew it, she was drowning it kitten-fluff. Soft blue eyes met her identical own and she blinked lovingly as Stonekit gave a delightful little giggle and licked her nose gently. Why would she ever want to wake up if it meant losing them all over again?

She sighs and goes to repeat the dream when a rustle at the entrance draws her mind away. A scowl forms on her face and her eyes flash with anger at the disruption. “Whitestorm, I thought I told you no interup-” She cuts herself off.

Mistyfoot stares at her wide eyed, clearly unprepared for the level of vitriol Bluestar had thrown at her. She stares at her daughter, a fully grown and competent warrior, ‘no thanks to her’ her mind whispers, and watches as the expression on her daughter’s face goes from shocked to hurt to determined.

“Bluestar, we need to talk.”

Bluestar turns her back on her, ignoring the giggle of her kits in her head. “We have nothing to talk about, I know Whitestorm gave you sanctuary, you and your friends are welcome here for now, but I have business to attend to, so I have to ask that you leave.”

Mistyfoot growls but covers it with a cough, a forced diplomate, much like her mother. “We appreciate Thunderclan’s hospitality, truly, but the reason I need to speak with you is… personal.”

Bluestar unconsciously sits up straighter, the fur along her spine prickling. “I have nothing “personal”, her meow catches on the word, “to share with you”.

“I think you do. Mother.”

A shudder runs through Bluestar’s frame as she whirls around to gaze at her daughter.

“Who told you that!?” She demands, fire burning in her eyes, pale claws digging into the soft sand of her den.

Mistyfoot’s expression wavers, her voice catching when she asks, “so it’s true?”

“Was it Fireheart!? That foxhearted traitor?!” The blue-furred shecat starts to pace, her paws weaving well-trod grooves into the ground, “I knew I couldn’t trust her.”

“Bluestar? Bluestar! Bluestar stop!"

"Mother!”

Bluestar stops.

“It wasn’t Fireheart! It wasn’t anyone.” Her daughter’s eyes are sad when Bluestar turns to face her properly. “No one said anything about you but it’s obvious when you put it together. I mean, look at us?”

Side by side, it is very apparent. Mistyfoot’s fur may be greyer in tone but the eyes, the carefully groomed fur, the tilt to her tail and the slope of her forehead. It is all Bluestar. She says nothing. Mistyfoot’s ears droop as if hoping her mother would have something to say after all these moons.

“Graypool told us that we were half Thunderclan by mistake before she died. I don’t think we were ever supposed to know,” she offers.

“If you knew, why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Bluestar meows back.

“I figured you didn’t want anything to do with us and with Stonefur-” Her voice cuts off, but she visibly forces herself to carry on. Bluestar finds that ache in her bones grow stronger. “I figured you did what you had too, to become leader, but I just wanted to know why?”

Bluestar shivers. How could she ever explain to her long-lost daughter what had happened oh so many moons ago?

About the danger on the horizon and the prophecy that constantly rang in her ears. About the cold, the endless cold, that covered the whole camp in frost. The pain of watching her kits fade from her life, taking away their bodies, their names, and leaving an empty spot in her heart nothing could hope to fill despite all her best efforts. She did do what she had too, but she didn’t do it too become leader. However, when she opens her mouth to say this, nothing comes out.

Mistyfoot’s expression becomes guarded, a change from the almost hopeful look in it earlier. Bluestar tries to force something out, croaking “your father was the right cat to raise you. I knew he would do so well.”

Mistyfoot nodded, “he was a great cat, the best, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“What is there to say?” She shrugs. If she was in her right mind, she would have felt ashamed of the lack of emotion she was displaying as heartbreak broke out over her last living kits face.

“You, you, and my son are the last kin I have left. I just wanted to know why you gave us up. Did you not want us? Were we a mistake? Did you need to be leader that bad?”

“It wasn’t like that-”

Mistyfoot cuts her off, anger growing in her voice. “Oh? Then what was it like? Cause all I see here is a cat who stopped caring about anything and gave us up when we needed you the most! You can’t even look at me! LOOK AT ME!”

Bluestar lifts her head up and breaks. “I DID WHAT I HAD TO DO! I DID WHAT I HAD TO DO! I DID IT FOR YOU!”

Mistyfoot growls, “don’t be a fool! You did it for yourself! Even now, you can’t explain to me why! Why do we mean so little to you!? Why does your clan mean so little to you?!”

“You could never understand! The clan needed me! He would have destroyed us; he would have destroyed us all! You would have all starved! I did it for you! I did it for you Mosskit!”

Mistyfoot takes a step back, eyes wide. Bluestar heaves, legs trembling under the weight of her sins as her head spins wildly. “So why won’t you fight for us now? We need you now. The clans need you now.”

Bluestar shakes her head, “I can’t.”

Mistyfoot’s eyes narrow and Bluestar finds herself unable to meet her gaze. “Can’t or won’t?”

Bluestar’s silence speaks words.

She is taken aback by the pure venom in her daughter’s voice as she speaks her next words, “you cannot possibly be my mother; my mother would not be such a coward. Stonefur did not die for us so that we would be killed by your neglect.”

Bluestar does nothing, says nothing, just turns and curls back up in her nest, unable to watch her daughter leave a second time.

Despite this, she can't help but hear the disappointment drip from her daughter’s voice as she leaves, throwing back one last parting shot.

“Very well, I guess you were right about one thing. There is nothing personal to talk about here.”

Chapter Text

“Are we ready?” Deadfoot meowed, black fur blending into the ever-darkening sky.

“As ready as we can be,” Tallstar meowed in reply, his amber eyes serious and clear. He looked to Fireheart, and she nodded. “Very well, let us steady ourselves.” He turned and leapt onto the High Ledge, the clan already waiting for him.

“Windclan, the time has come. What may very well be the greatest battle of our lives, and potentially our last, awaits us and we would do it no good to keep it waiting. We have prepared all we can, we have secured our allies, armed ourselves and readied escapes for those who cannot fight. Unlike some, we have learnt well that battles do not always turn out how we would have hoped but I want you to know, that no matter what happens next, I am proud to be your leader, your friend, your guide. I will serve you with every life I have left in my body until the bitter end. You have worked hard and now; it is time to put it to the test. Ready yourselves, my clanmates, for the war is upon us. For Windclan!”

“FOR WINDCLAN!”

The roaring cry overtook the clearing, shaking the earth around her paws with its thunderous cry. Fireheart used the moment to suck in a huge breath, intelligent green eyes looking over her found family, alighting on her kits and friends, and she smiled grimly. This was what she was fighting for, what she was willing to die for.

They were waiting for them. Scourge, his small, dark form vanishing in and out of view as grey clouds floated across the moon. Not even Starclan could stop this fight it seemed. “I see you came. At least, some of you did.”

The tom’s voice was like a viper, poisonous in her ears and she scowled to see the disinterest in his eyes, like they had already lost, and he was merely granting them a curtesy. “I will give you one last chance, forest cats. Turn back now and leave and you may keep your lives. If you fight, you will lose, that I promise.” His eyes narrowed, a strange look in them, “and as one of you already found out, I don’t break my promises.”

His icy gaze locked with her own and she felt a shiver of lightning run down her spine. Something about this cat was deadly, almost otherworldly. His claws sharpened, bolstered by the fangs of dogs, a natural predator that he chose to wield as his own. A threat to the natural order. But more important, a threat to the fragile peace she had worked so hard to curate. She would not lose another home, another family, not to a cat like him, never again.

Tallstar stepped forward, his long tail held high to keep his clan steady at his back. “I don’t know about your promises, or of the other clans, but I know my own. I have sworn to lead my clan to the best of my ability and ensure that we live on. I have no fear of death that could keep me from them. So, for the first time that this might be said, Windclan won’t run.”

Scourge’s tail flicked, seemingly as a wordless symbol as more and more cats poured into the clearing, surrounding them. “Bold words, forest cat. Very well then. Bloodclan, attack.”

“Windclan! Attack!”

Fireheart sucked in a breath and charged, feeling her clanmates pelting alongside her, a surety settling into her bones. They were as ready as they could be.

Almost immediately, she came face to face with a rouge, his golden fur raggedy and thin but showing pure muscle underneath as he snarled at her, fangs glinting in the moonlight.

Thinking quick, she looked left and charged right, catching the tom off guard, and using that moment of surprise to hook a forepaw around his leg and tug, sending him onto his back. Using this advantage, she scored her claws down his belly, wincing when one of his frantic paws caught her face, tearing a gash just above her eye. She feels the tom push from below her, his size granting him the strength to throw her off.

They circle each other warily, Fireheart blinking away the blood that threatened to blind her vision, as the tom leaps first, targeting her shoulders to shove her down. Using her newly taught and harnessed Windclan speed, she dodges and twists to bite down hard on the toms back legs, hearing him yowl out in pain. He strikes her front shoulders, but his claws do nothing to deter her, jaws merely clamping tighter till he wriggles frantically, yanking himself free and running back into the fray of cats.

Breathing heavily, Fireheart scans the clearing and feels her heart sink when she realises that they are being overrun. She spots Doespring across from her, frantically twisting between the blows of three Bloodclan cats and charges over, grabbing one by the scruff and using every ounce of strength she has to throw him to the side. Doespring blinks at her gratefully as the two fall into step, circling around each other to protect each other’s backs, slowly pushing the rouges back.

A vicious grey tabby shecat with a dog-tooth studded collar suddenly charges forward, her paws slashing Fireheart’s chest as she dodges backwards, falling forward to grapple with the rouges head. The tabby yowls loudly with pain, throwing her head up, fangs flashing as they aim for Fireheart’s throat. Doespring uses her distraction to bite the shecat’s tail and yank, giving Fireheart time to squirm out of her tight grasp and give a sharp bite to the shecat’s ear, sending her away squealing.

Another wave of rouges charges forward and Fireheart loses sight of Doespring in the crowd. A battle cry fills the air and for a moment, Fireheart can’t breathe. They can’t handle anymore rouges.

Relief floods her making her paws feel weak when she spots Shadowclan and Riverclan warriors break into the clearing, giving Windclan some much needed support. Breathing heavily and wincing from a deep bite on her shoulder, she scans the clearing for Scourge, knowing somehow, that she needed to end him to end this fight. She keeps her eyes peeled for her kits and tries not to panic when she can’t find them in the crowd, praying that they are safe.

Her due diligence pays off when she spots the small black tom weaving between squirming masses of fur and claws, his cold eyes locking with hers.

Hello, Fireheart,” he greets coldly, a smirk on his face, “Tigerstar mentioned you to me, pray tell, are your kits here? I’ll look forward to sending them to join their father.”

A furious growl builds in her throat, and she wastes no time in charging forward, claws outstretching and aiming for the foxheart’s throat. He dodges nimbly and swipes at her with his studded claws, tearing a gash down her side and just missing her belly. The two dance around each other but slowly, Fireheart, already worn from two other battles, starts to falter. Her paws slip on the blood-stained grass giving Scourge the opening he needs to strike.

“Say hello to Tigerstar for me,” he purrs, lowly as Fireheart closes her eyes.

‘My kits, I’m sorry.’

“Why aren’t you doing something?” Bluestar ignores her, like she has been doing for the last couple moons.

“Mother, why aren’t you doing something? They are going to die!”

“There’s nothing I can do, Starclan can have them for all I care.”

“Don’t lie to me, I know you care. Sometimes, you care too much. Isn’t that why you gave us up?”

Bluestar’s ears flatten to her head, “don’t speak about what you don’t understand.”

Mosskit stares at her sadly, her withered form with eyes to large and knowledgeable for a kit so young seem to bore into her soul. “But I do understand, maybe more then anyone. I know what sacrifice is like. Your life for your clan, my life for theirs. They need you still, mama. They always need you. Fireheart needs you.”

Bluestar shakes her head, her claws digging into the soft sand, “Fireheart doesn’t need me. She’s safer away from me.”

Mosskit just continues to stare at her, “you were the fire once. Don’t you remember what it was like to burn? Fireheart needs you; your clan needs you. You need to burn again!”

“Mosskit, I can’t! You are already dead, Stonefur is dead, Snowfur and Moonflower are dead. Mistyfoot doesn’t want anything to do with me! I have nothing left! What more do I have to give!? What more can I give!?”

Mosskit growls and Bluestar startles to see the usually placid kit turn angry. “You have so much! Whitestorm, your apprentices, Fireheart, Mistyfoot, her son, your warriors. They all care so much for Thunderclan, for each other! What happened to you?! Can’t you see what you are doing?! You are throwing away so much!”

“They are better off without me,” Bluestar meows.

“Do you really believe that?”

A rumble of words from outside her den snatches her from her daze and Mosskit disappears like she was never there. For the first time in days, Bluestar pushes her head out from her den and stares wide-eyed as Sandstorm rallies the clan.

“What is going on here?!”

“We are going to fight,” the pale shecat meows, her lime eyes burning with determination.

“I have already said we will not stand with those traitors so stop this nonsense! A leader’s word is law!”

Sandstorm growls low in her throat, a hiss breaking through her words. “We will listen to you when you actually lead us.” She turns her back on her and Bluestar watches in shock as half of her clan leave with her.

“They will burn with or without you but without you, they will be washed away.”

Bluestar shudders, watching Whitestorm try and rally the remaining cats with detached interest. “I cannot lead, I’ll only lead them to failure again.”

Mosskit’s voice rings in her ears, “I don’t need you anymore. You need to let me go. They need you. Go to them.”

Bluestar’s weary eyes fall shut, “I can’t.”

“You have said that so many times in your life, yet it has never stopped you before. Bring your clan justice, bring yourself peace. Go, please.”

“Burn again.”

Bramblepaw drew in a breath, wheezing as he tried to pull air back into his battered lungs, Deadfoot sending the cat who had been attacking him sprinting away with a sharp bite. The arid tang of blood burns his nose as he gasps loudly.

Glancing around, he tried to spot his family amongst the writhing mass of cats. A flicker of relief flooded through him when he spotted Tawnypaw fighting with Robinwing, Pidgeonflight and some Shadowclan apprentices. He saw Squirrelpaw and Gorseflower standing beside Reedwhisker and Eagleflight. He tried not to panic when he couldn’t spot Leafpaw, hopeful that she was hiding somewhere in the bushes with Barkface, aiming to get injured cats out of the way of the fight.

A scream drew his attention, and he turned wide-eyed as he spotted a massive tom baring down on his mentor, Deadfoot vanishing under the larger tom with a gargled sound. A frantic yowl built in his throat as he charged at the tom, leaping, and biting down hard on his scruff, pulling him off his mentor. Deadfoot twitched but didn’t stand.

Bramblepaw tried to get to him but a swipe from the Bloodclan rouge stopped his movements. With a furious screech, he threw himself at the warrior who had harmed his mentor, his movements frenzied and angry, clawing out clumps of fur until the rouge turned and ran away, still screeching in pain.

Swinging back around, he charged to his mentor’s side, eyes growing blurry as his mentor remained still, blood trickling from a nasty gash in his throat. “Deadfoot? Deadfoot, please, wake up!”

“Bramblepaw?” The harsh hiss jolted him from his state as he stared horrified at Leafpaw, her tabby fur covered in droplets of blood and a new gash adoring her left ear. “I’ve got him, go.”

“But-” She cut him off, “I’ll take care of him, I promise. But you need to go, we’re being overrun on the far corner!”

He stared at the duo sorrowfully before dutifully nodding. “Take care of him please and be safe.”

Her eyes softened, “I will.”

A battle cry sounds and the two apprentices watch, awestruck as fresh warriors’ pore into the clearing.

“Thunderclan, attack!”

A surprised grin split his face at the charge lead by Sandstorm and Longtail, he even spotted his cousin amongst the frays along with two familiar loners.

“They came,” Leafpaw breathed, a new flood of filling determination her eyes.

With a shared nod, he turned and dove back into the fray, eyes seeking his other sisters.

They had to keep fighting, they were warriors and warriors never backed down.

He put his trust in his sister and fought. For all of their lives, he fought.

For a moment, time froze. Fireheart saw his teeth aiming for her throat and the feeling of powerlessness overwhelmed her as she watched her ultimate demise approach. She could not run, could not fight, or swim, or hide. She was going to die. Her kits would die. Her clan would fall apart. She had lost.

She wanted to close her eyes, but something told her to look. To stare the eyes of her murderer down so that she may haunt him even after her death.

“Die, forest cat!”

“NO!”

The cry was so powerful, for a second, Fireheart thought the sound alone was enough to slam Scourge to the side but as her vision cleared, she stared in amazement as Bluestar grappled with the tom, her powerful muscles holding him down and away from her. “Bluestar,” she breathed, staring as her former mentor, former leader, saved her life.

Fireheart had always admired the way Bluestar fought, even as an apprentice, all elegance and delicate power, deliberate and determined. No time for showy moves or careless acts, just raw justice, and now was no exception.

Scourge fought with the surety of a cat who had already won, Bluestar fought with the fierceness of a cat with nothing to lose.

It was beautiful but it was over to quickly.

As the ginger shecat scrambled to get her paws back under her, head spinning from the rough tackle, Scourge, using his smaller size, dug his claws into Bluestar’s throat, the same way he had almost done to Fireheart. She watched in horror as Bluestar collapsed, unable to do anything as her body slowly stilled, taking the blow meant for herself.

Ignoring Scourge as he fled like the coward he is back into the crowd, she crouched over the body of the cat she had once seen as a mother. “Bluestar…”

A choked wheeze escaped the old queen’s mouth. “Don’t speak, save your breath,” Fireheart pleaded, looking around frantically. ‘Where are Barkface or Cinderheart?’

Bluestar made to speak again, ignoring Fireheart’s pleas. “I-I need to say this.”

“Bluestar?”

Fireheart glanced up to see Mistyfoot, scarred and bleeding but alive, staring at the two in horror. “I-she’s injured, bad. I can’t.”

A gargle sounds in Bluestar’s torn throat, blood bubbling up and spilling over Fireheart’s paws. "Fireheart, I-I’m sorry.”

Fireheart switches her attention back to Bluestar, the sounds of battle and Mistyfoot approaching drowned out by her words. “I was wrong. I have been wrong so many times but taking you into Thunderclan was one of the best decisions I ever made and losing you was one of my biggest mistakes. You are the fire who will save the clans.” She takes another shuddering breath, gasping for air as her blood stains the grass at her paws red. “And I almost put that fire out. I am grateful. To Windclan. For fanning those flames back to life. My kits, I’m sorry. Maybe. Maybe one day, you’ll understand, why I did what I did.”

“Bluestar-”

“Fireheart, you did what I wished I could have done, put my kits first. Take care of them.” Her blue eyes grow dim and Fireheart feels her heart break as she loses her final connection to the cat who had once meant so much to her. Mistyfoot let out a heartrending wail as she buried her face into her mother’s bloodstained fur.

“I’ll make you proud,” Fireheart promised, pressing her face for the last time into her mother’s fur. “I swear.”

Fireheart felt a rightness settle into her body, the flames that had been threatened roaring to life as the final dredges of ice melted away in the sheer presence of her fire, her passion. She would end this fight. This would be the cumulation of her being, the reason for her being there, something in her core told her that this was the reason she was brought into the forest. She had lost too much to let what little she had scavenged for herself be lost to such darkness, the darkest she had yet to see. She had her clan, her friends, her kits who all needed her. She would not back down. She would avenge all that she had lost.

“Windclan! To me!” Her cry rallied her clanmates, her fellow warriors, from all the clans, united with the sole purpose of saving their homes and their lives.

‘This’, she thought, ‘was the power of Starclan,’ and as if by Starclan’s will, the crowd split revealing Scourge with his icy eyes and powerful aura. When the two clashed, she knew she would win. Slash after slash, bite after bite, she forced him back and felt her fellow warriors fall into step behind her. She watched his eyes widen as he felt the shift in the air. Bloodclan cats started running backwards and a furious hiss exited his throat.

“Fight, you cowards! Fight! This is what I brought you here for!”

It was as beautiful as it was brutal, a bit of poetic justice. ‘For Bluestar. For my friends. For my kits,’ and a tiny part of her cried, ‘for Tigerstar.’ When his final breath gave out, his blood staining her teeth, she raised her head to the sky and cried out, “Scourge is dead!”

And watched as his empire fell apart.

She is shaking, she realises distantly.

Scourge’s body still lays at her paws, its heat slowly leeching into the ground as the last of the rouges are driven off by those still capable of fighting. She doesn’t want to look around and see the carnage, but she must. Peeking up, her heart aches when she sees bodies everywhere. They may have won but victory always has a cost.

“Mother?! Mama!”

Tears gather in her eyes when her kits, all of them, run over to her. Biting back sobs of relief, she gathers them to her side, nuzzling them and checking them over for injuries. “You’re okay,” she breathes, “we made it.”

“Is it over?” Leafpaw asks, trembling at her side, “did we win?”

Fireheart lays her head between her daughter’s ears, mindful of her ear. “We did,” she soothes. “It’s over.”

“Not for all of us,” Bramblepaw meows, staring over the hill to where Fireheart can make out Barkface moving frantically between injured cats.

“He’s alive,” Leafpaw meows, “and I’ll make sure he stays that way.”

“What do we do now?” Tawnypaw asks, her wide green eyes so much like Fireheart’s own, gaze at her like they always have, so full of love and hope.

“We grieve, we bury our dead, and we keep going.”

“Cats of the clans, gather round.” Blackstar’s voice reigns over the clearing and the four clans gather before their leaders, still intermingled and presenting as one. Exhausted but alive. Stronger together.

“We have won, Bloodclan is gone. Now, we must tend to our dead and return to our homes to heal.”

Tallstar steps forward to stand beside his fellow leader, “You have fought well, the clans will remember this moment for generations. Windclan thanks you for your services.”

“As does Riverclan,” Leopardstar joins, Blackstar nodding the same.

Every warrior raises their voices as one, “For Windclan!” “For Riverclan!” “For Shadowclan!” “For Thunderclan!” The cries mingling into one roar of pure victory.

Cinderheart steps forward, Fireheart smiles, tears in her eyes, to see her former apprentice alive and grieving quietly as she knows what is coming. “Thunderclan, I regret to inform you that Bluestar is dead, as is Whitestorm. They gave their lives for us, and we honour them.” A hush falls over the crowd, the other clans falling silent in respect. Fireheart stilling at the death of another cat who had been a mentor to her.

“Who will lead us now?” Mousefur asks, a nasty gash on her flank still bleeding sluggishly. Cinderheart glances around nervously before stilling, her eyes glowing with an eerie blue-white light. Fireheart sees something out of the corner of her eye and a quick glance shows Leafpaw’s and Barkface’s eyes glowing with the same light.

Cinderheart’s eyes clear and she lifts her head from its lowered position. “What did you see?” A voice demands.

“I saw sand, swirling around the camp. It became a storm that protected the camp from the dangers outside before fashioning itself into a star.” Cinderheart takes a deep breath before moving forward. “I say these words before the bodies of Bluestar and Whitestorm, and in the presence of the spirits of my ancestors, that they may hear and approve of my choice. Sandstorm, will be the new leader of Thunderclan.”

“Me?” Sandstorm says incredulous, Fireheart making out the tan form of her friend over the heads of the crowd and surrounded by what she has come to know as her rebel group. Nudging her kits gently, she makes her way through the masses, cats clearing a path for her when they notice. When Sandstorm spots her, she stumbles towards her. “Fireheart, I-I can’t become leader of Thunderclan! I’m not ready!”

Fireheart touches noses with her old friend gently, “but don’t you see? You are ready, you have been for a long time. You already are a leader. Starclan has spoken, they are calling you. Do not be afraid.” The words ring true in her ears. Something resolves itself in Sandstorm’s gaze and she nods determinedly, padding over to join the other leaders atop the ledge.

“Cat’s of Thunderclan, I know that I am young, and I have large pawsteps to fill but I swear, I will dedicate myself to you for the rest of my time on this land. I will fight for you, hunt for you, and give you shelter when you sleep. I will stand with you. Will you stand with me?”

A silence speaks a thousand words but so does a chant. Longtail takes it up first, Cloudtail and Brightheart joining. Fireheart’s heart sings when she spots Snowkit standing side by side with Brackenfur, Snowkit signing as Brackenfur raises his voice alongside the rest of Thunderclan.

“Sandstar!" "Sandstar!" "Sandstar!”

“I say the words before the spirit of my ancestors, Longtail, will be the new deputy of Thunderclan.” Another chant sounds through the clearing before a hush descends as Blackstar leaps down from the rock.

“We offer our congratulations,” he meows, dipping his head, “but I need to get my clan home. Till the next full mood. May Starclan light your path.”

A daze settles over Fireheart as she sits exhausted, the tang of blood still in her mouth, and watches as slowly but surely, cats split off into groups and head towards their homes. She knows what is coming when Sandstorm, Sandstar, approaches. “I’d offer to let you five come back but I feel that is not necessary.”

Fireheart gazes around, a soft, sad smile on her face when she spots her kits. Squirrelpaw is laughing at something Gorseflower said, leaning into his side with a tired but happy look in her eyes. Leafpaw is bringing herbs to Barkface, the tom saying something that makes her nod firmly. Tawnypaw is sitting beside her mentor as she talks to her former mate, a knowing, smug look on her face as the two converse. Fireheart makes a note to ask her about that later. Bramblepaw sits with Featherpaw and Stormpaw, chatting with the cats who in another life, would have been his siblings. Fireheart is relieved the two made it through and is even more so when Ravenpaw, Barley, and Graystripe approach the trio. She sees Morningflower and Ashfoot helping carry injured cats to the healers. She thinks of Windclan’s moors that sing to her a night, the places her paws had ran, the feeling on wind through her whiskers and she finds her answer.

“I am right where I need to be.”

Sandstar nods, “I thought as much. You, Ravenpaw, and Graystripe, I feel, have finally found your homes.” At Fireheart’s questioning look, she shrugs and elaborates. “Ravenpaw and Barley are heading back to their farm and Graystripe and his kits have decided to return to Riverclan with Mistyfoot. I think they’ll be happier there.”

For a moment, the two shecat’s just sit and bask in the moment. The two so similar and yet so different. “Isn’t it strange, how much things have changed since the apprentice den?”

“We’ve grown,” Fireheart muses in response.

Sandstar chuckles, “that we have, for the better I’d hope.”

She watches as Dustpelt joins the growing crowd of cats, Ravenpaw running and bowling over his brother as the two reunite for the first time in a long time.

“I think we have.”

“Then to the many future moons we have now, may we continue to grow.”

“May we continue to grow,” Fireheart returns.

Sandstar nods, “Thunderclan, to me!”

As the remaining Thunderclan warriors trickle out of the blood splattered clearing, her kits gather by her sides as Tallstar sounds their leave.

“Come on,” she meows, “let’s go home.”

The war was over.

We have won.

Chapter Text

After the battle, it rains.

And rains and rains and rains.

For three days straight, the clans are bombarded by a constant downpour, keeping them closed in their camps. Windclan finds shelter in their rarely used dens, staring outside at the rain that continues to pour. Fireheart finds it fitting, almost as if washing away the blood of the battle, leaving the earth damp and ready for new growth.

Speaking of growth, the flame-coloured shecat watches on proudly as Tallstar calls the clan around, sunlight glinting off the numerous puddles that lay scattered about the clearing. The smell of petrichor lingering in the air. Her kits sit tall and proud, their fur freshly groomed and glowing in the morning sun. Her little flickers of light.

Finally, they are getting their warrior names.

Fireheart takes a moment to look around the clearing. This was not where she had envisioned her life or theirs going at the moment of their birth.

The moment her kits had arrived into the world, it had been dark and cold, another long leaf-bare night. Tigerclaw had the whole camp exhausted after constant patrols, searching desperately for any hint of prey or catmint that could help their clan survive the coming moons. Her ribs had shown through her fur, stretching thin around the growth of her belly, like thorns wrapping around a tree and pulling tight. The birth had been long, and she had been terrified, thinking of Graystripe and Silverstream and their two young kits who mewed loudly from Frostfur’s nest.

At the end of it, she had been too tired to even try and name them. Tigerclaw hadn’t pushed her, and she was forever grateful. She loved him but even then, a twist of guilt and shame had settled in her belly whenever she thought of Ravenpaw and Redtail. She had hoped that maybe she had changed him, and they could be happy, be a family. Oh, how wrong she had been. Looking back, she knew that she still wouldn’t have changed a thing because now, her kits were getting their warrior names, and she couldn’t be prouder.

“We are here to welcome three new warriors into the clan and before we continue, we must also welcome a new medicine cat.”

Fireheart smiled fondly, staring at her tabby daughter who sat with her head shyly bowed beside Barkface. The two had gone to Mothermouth to speak with Starclan only the night prior, the halfmoon catching them all by surprise at how quickly time had passed. She hadn’t been expecting her to get her full name just yet, but it felt right. Her daughter still had a lot to learn about being a medicine cat but as Barkface told her later, she had more then earned her full name. And what a beautiful name it was, simple but unique, just like her daughter.

Flashback

Leafpaw was nervous but tried to hide her shaky paws as the medicine cats gathered around the Moonstone, waiting for Starclan to permit their entry. She wasn’t sure what she would come across on their first trip there after the battle.

They had lost several cats that night, Oatwhisker and Sorrelshine had been the first. Bramblepaw had been devasted about the shecat’s death, apparently the two had grown close somehow. He and Whitetail, Sorrelshine’s daughter, had stayed up the whole vigil together. The vigils had to be held after the battle and the bodies were already buried. It had simply been too much to try and bury them and hold vigil that same night while repairing the camp from the battle, chasing out any last rouges, and trying to recoup and heal. Lilywhisker had later been found dead in the middle of the camp when Windclan finally made it home, her mangled leg preventing her from outrunning even the slowest Bloodclan cat.

It turns out that Scourge had seen fit to try and chase out the clans from their home turfs as well and had sent groups to target their camps. The tunnels had held up well and Leafpaw was sure many more cats would have died had they not been salvaged prior at Fireheart and Deadfoot’s insistence. Deadfoot himself had almost joined the group of deceased but had managed to pull through with only a new scar on his throat and a constant croak to his voice. Leafpaw hoped that with patience and time, he would eventually make a full recovery.

“Leafpaw?”

The voice drew her from her thoughts, and she shook her head embarrassed at her mentors questioning look. “Sorry, what did you say?”

His eyes were fond as he rephrased his words, “I was just asking if you are ready?”

She blinked, “ready for what?”

A gleam of amusement caressed his face, “I have spoken with the others, and we are in agreement that although you are young and still have much to learn, you have more then earned your full name.”

Leafpaw stared at him open mouthed. She had not been expecting that, especially considering the later start to her training. Barkface hastened himself to continue, “you still have a lot to learn as my apprentice and in the ways of the medicine cats, but you have proven that you have what it takes to walk this path. You have merit, young one and in these uncertain times, you have shown yourself to be a someone who we can rely on to guide us through the dark.”

Leafpaw gazes around at the group as they all nod encouragement. She makes eye contact with Cinderheart who beams at her proudly.

“I promise,” she swears, voice wavering, “I’ll make you all proud.”

“Oh, young one,” Barkface murmurs, touching his tail gently to her shoulder, “you already have.”

At his words, the moon aligns and the stone bursts into life, bathing them in its delicate white glow. Barkface moves to the centre, eyes glowing with that now familiar eerie light as he turns to face his apprentice.

“I, Barkface, medicine cat of Windclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of a medicine cat, and with your help she will serve her clan for many moons. Leafpaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between clan and clan and to protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”

When she first stepped paw down this path, Leafpaw had been uncertain to if she was making the right choice but now, stripped down to her core in the presence of her ancestors, she knows she made the right decision. “I do,” her voice rings powerfully around the cavern, a certainty in her words that shakes her bones and reverberates in the air, echoing her promise.

Barkface gazes at her proudly. “Then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Leafpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Leaflight. Starclan honors your kindness and your dedication to doing what is right. We honour your determination to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves and for your ability to serve as a beacon of hope even when all feels lost. We welcome you as a full medicine cat of Windclan.”

As her fellow medicine cats cheer out her new name, soft whispers from beyond singing alongside them, Leaflight licks her mentor’s shoulder as Barkface rests his muzzle on her head. “Well done,” he whispers.

When she steps forward to rest her nose on the cold stone, she smiles. Despite her new name, she knew that it was Windclan that had been her light, her guiding force, and now, it was her turn to protect and cherish that light so that it may continue to shine for generations beyond her.

When she greeted her family with her new name that next morning, her mother had pulled her aside and whispered in her ears something that she would forever carry in her heart. “You and your siblings are parts of my being, my little flickers of fire. I am proud of you, and I pray that you carry this light with you always for it is as much a part of you as it is of me.”

Flashback end

Biting back a smirk that would be very unfitting for the moment, Fireheart remembered the looks of surprise on her other kits faces when Leaflight revealed she had received her name first. It was a surprising twist but seeing as Fireheart knew that her kits were getting their names the next morning, it became a humorous memory, one she would treasure.

Taking a trip down memory lane, Fireheart remembered when she had named her kits. For almost a half-moon, her kits were nameless, Fireheart unable to find the strength to name them after the exile of her mate and the subsequent breakdown of her leader. It had been Speckletail, surprisingly, that had finally snapped her out of it and sat her down to name them. The old queen had seemingly had enough of trying to deal with four unruly kits without having a good name to snap at them whenever they crossed the cantankerous shecat’s path.

Cloudtail, then an apprentice, had suggested Bramblekit when he had stopped by, and she had asked for suggestions. He pointed out the little kit’s unusually sharp claws, a clear testament to Tigerclaw, and she had to agree that the name was very fitting. She had been hesitant to have any connection to her former mate, but no other name had seemed to suit the tabby kit, so Bramblekit he became and Bramblekit he remained.

Sandstorm had been the one to name Squirrelkit. The two had grown closer after the shared apprenticeship of Cloudpaw and on one such visit, Sandstorm had exclaimed that it looked like she had birthed a squirrel, seeing the red kit’s fluffy fur and even fluffier tail. It had been one of the first time’s Fireheart had laughed since the exile and so her daughter became known as Squirrelkit. ‘When she opened her eyes and ears and started scrambling about, the name became even more fitting,’ Fireheart mused, ‘a true testament to her daughter’s tenacious personality.’

Brindleface, Fireheart’s face soured at the thought of her former friend although she supposed she couldn’t fault the queen too much. It had been a challenging time for them all and she knew the queen had still been grieving the loss of two of her kits and the subsequent attack on Cloudtail, her adopted son. A part of her heart still tried to cling to the soft queen’s friendship despite its sudden, abrupt end. Brindleface had been her anchor, her lifeline when the rest of her world had been in shambles. The beautiful queen had served as her guide into motherhood and the complicated task of raising new beings and Fireheart had leaned on her plenty in her early moons of parenting to the point where she had agreed to let her friend name one of her kits. Brindleface had taken one look at them and suggested Tawnykit, for the bright orange on her tortoiseshell’s daughter’s fur. It was a simple name, but Fireheart appreciated that. It was a name that would grow as her daughter did and some part of it felt like it tied her to Fireheart and her own flaming coat. Her daughter’s patches were after all, very similar in colour.

Fireheart had named Leafkit herself. As the last born she had also been the last named. When the name came to her, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it earlier. When she looked into her daughter’s amber eyes for the first time, she saw both Tigerclaw and an old friend. One of her first friends she had made when she had been accepted into Thunderclan, after Graystripe and Ravenpaw, as well as the barer of one of her onesided childhood crushed that had faded into a gentle friendship before the medicine cat’s death. Leafkit became a reminder of the friendships she grew to cherish and the bond she maintained with her clan’s healers. Fireheart wasn’t sure if she believed in fate or destiny but perhaps it was more than just her gentle nature and kind heart that lured Leaflight into the medicine cat den.

Regardless of the names she had gifted them, her kits were finally getting the names they had earned. It wasn’t the way she had envisioned it, nor the clan she had thought it would happen in, but it felt so undeniably right that everything else seemed inconsequential. She can spot the mentors of her kits sitting together proudly, Deadfoot had been reluctantly allowed out of the medicine cat den to watch his apprentice’s ceremony, and if she could find the words, she would thank them from the bottom of her heart for giving them a chance to be warriors.

“Leaflight, we are beyond lucky to have you with us. You have proven yourself to be a resourceful cat and a kind heart and we welcome you as a full medicine cat of Windclan.”

“Leaflight! Leaflight! Leaflight!”

As the chanting dies down, Fireheart spots Tallstar smile as he continues to the next part of the ceremony. “Your journey here was difficult, young ones but I am proud to say that you have persevered and have truly earned your place here as warriors. I, Tallstar, leader of Windclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Squirrelpaw, Tawnypaw, Bramblepaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your clan, even at the cost of your life?”

There is no wavering or uncertainty in any of their voices when they respond with a resounding, “I do.”

Tallstar’s eyes glow with pride as he speaks, “then by the powers of Starclan, I give you your warrior names. Squirrelpaw, step forward.” Her lively daughter all but charges to the front, much to the amusement of the crowd and Fireheart is so fondly reminded of her apprenticeship ceremony which went much the same way.

“From this moment on, you will be known as Squirreltail. Starclan honors your wit and your tenacity. You are named for your speed and balance, for your light steps and light-hearted personality. For your energetic nature and your boundless desire to charge forward and learn more so you can do more. We welcome you as a full warrior of Windclan.” Tallstar rests his muzzle gently between her ears as she licks his shoulder before backing away so that Tawnypaw can take her place.

“Tawnypaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Tawnywing. Starclan honours your determination and your steadfastness. Robinwing asked for your name to signify your connection to the wind and to our clan. Windclan recognises your free spirit and the journey you took to get here. Know that you are home.” He repeats the motions and as Tawnywing licks his shoulder, Fireheart can make out tears streaming down her cheeks that make her heart squeeze in both pain and hope. Her daughter has finally found a place for herself.

“Bramblepaw.” Fireheart concentrates on her final kit, sitting alone in the clearing with his head bowed. He has grown so much from the small shy kit he used to be and while he still has room to grow, his paws show he’s not at his fault size yet, she is so incredibly proud of how far he has come. She can see so much of Tigerstar in his appearance, but she knows that his heart is so much brighter then his, so much brighter than hers even. He will burn brightly, as a warrior, of this, she is sure.

“Bramblepaw, from this moment on, you will be known as Brambleheart. Starclan honours your courage and your loyalty to your clan and to all cats. We honour you for your kindness and for your desire to always do the right thing, no matter the cost.” Fireheart is sitting close enough that when Tallstar rests his muzzle on her son’s head, she can just make out his words.

“Deadfoot said not to blame yourself, you saved his life just as much as Leaflight or Barkface did. You have a good heart inside you, so don’t be afraid to let it out. The world is not as dark as the parts you have seen. There is light out there too, sometimes, it just takes a deeper look. I see that light when I look at you and your family and I swear, you’ll have a home here always.”

She smiles, the tears that were prickling in her eyes starting to stream gently down her face because when she calls out her kit’s new names, the whole of Windclan joins her, welcoming them home.

“Leaflight! Squirreltail! Tawnywing! Brambleheart!”

“Leaflight! Squirreltail! Tawnywing! Brambleheart!”

“Leaflight! Squirreltail! Tawnywing! Brambleheart!”

As she gets up to greet her kits, Tallstar’s yowl halts her in her movements, a confused muttering settling over the crowd.

“We have one more ceremony to hold.”

Fireheart and her kits share a bewildered look before Tallstar steps forward to face her, his voice ringing out loud and clear over the clearing.

“While Windclan has given you refuge and then accepted you and your kits into our clan, you have yet to bear the true connection to our people. Fireheart, Windclan has much to thank of you. You brought us home from our exile, you served us during the cold moons, and you have guided us through one of the darkest battles the clans have faced. It would be an honor, to truly have you as one of our warriors.”

Murmurs of agreement rise from the crowd and as the ginger queen looks around, something grows in her, burning bright like it did when she was younger, when she sees the welcoming eyes and open hearts of her new clanmates. Something she had always longed for but found lacking in her former clan.

Looking back at Tallstar and meeting his gaze head on, she responds simply, “it is I who would be honoured.”

With a proud smile, Tallstar continues, “I, Tallstar, leader of Windclan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this cat. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and the nature of a Windclan cat, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Fireheart, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this clan, even at the cost of your life?”

There is no hesitation and no regret when she speaks, “I do.”

“Then by the powers of Starclan, we welcome you, Fireheart, as a full warrior of Windclan. We honour your bravery and your compassion to anyone in need, and your ability to bring us through the darkness. You burn brightly, Fireheart, and Windclan sees that. Might you serve us for many moons to come.”

“Fireheart!”

“Fireheart!”

“Fireheart!”

As she steps back from licking her new leaders shoulder, her eyes fall shut. Fireheart takes a moment to listen carefully to the sound of her new clan welcoming her home, singing her name to the stars above and a feeling of wonder overtakes her at just how right it feels. When her kits all but tackle her to the ground, sending her under in a wave of fluffy brown and ginger fur, a laugh breaks out of her throat, wild and free.

They are home.

Fireheart wonders why it always seems to occur at night as another wave of pain overtakes her.

“Argk,” she cries out, “get Barkface!”

Ashfoot nods, tucking Crowkit back into his nest, the older kit complaints suggesting he is not happy about it, as she runs to get Barkface. Morningflower dots over her gently as she works through another round of pain. It feels like moons before Ashfoot re-enters.

“They’re grabbing herbs,” she explains as she resumes her spot watching over Fireheart, taking a quick stop by her nest to check on her son. As the medicine cats prepare, Fireheart squirms in discomfort, letting out another sharp cry of pain and wrinkling her nose at the sharp tang of blood.

“Why do shecats do this more than once?” Fireheart gasps out between waves, writhing in pain.

Ashfoot purrs a laugh, “because we forget, that’s why. If pain didn’t fade, I doubt any shecat would have more than one litter”.

Morningflower blinks sympathetically from Fireheart’s left as another wave of pain ripples through her body. She placed down a bundle of soaked moss at her head, “drink, you’ll need your strength”.

Before she could say anything else, a disturbance at the den entrance draws their attention. “Out of my way,” Barkface meows around the herbs hanging from his jaws, Leaflight at his side with even more herbs. “How long now?” He asks, checking her stomach.

“Not long,” Morningflower responds. Barkface nods before turning to Leaflight, “ready to deliver your first round of kits?”

Leaflight looks even more worried than Fireheart but before she can move to comfort her daughter, another contraction hits. ‘Great Starclan,’ she thinks, and everything begins to move quickly.

By the time she is done, the sun is rising, and she can hear cats clambering around outside the nursery den. She would go to them, but her body is exhausted, the only energy she has left being to watch over her newest litter as they suckle gently at her belly.

A tired smile graces her face when Barkface reappears in the den entrance, “ready for any visitors?” The tom looks relived, and Fireheart knows how he felt, her own body still trembling minutely. They had both worried about how the stress of the battle would affect her unborn kits, but Fireheart had been adamant that she had to fight. If she hadn’t, they would have all died but a part of her had been terrified that she would lose all her kits that night. When she felt them moving after the battle, a wave of relief so strong washed over her, almost knocking her off her paws and now, three small bodies lay in the crook of her belly, tiny and perfect.

With a deep breath and a nod which Barkface returns, the medicine cat exits the den, making way for her four kits to scramble inside, making the already crowded space feel even smaller. Her heart feels complete when she sees the looks of wonder on her first litter’s faces.

“They’re so small,” Tawnywing breathes, green eyes glowing in awe.

“They’re kits, of course they’re small,” Squirreltail meows, yelping and lashing out with her paws when Brambleheart steps on her tail.

“Have you named them yet?” Leaflight asks, having grown very good at ignoring her bickering siblings.

Fireheart shakes her head, “I wanted to wait for you four. I thought we could name them together.” Her kits faces light up and Fireheart knew she made the right call.

Tigerstar would never get to know these kits, their brief meeting at Four trees having had a very surprising outcome, but her newest litter would have some of the best older siblings, she was sure. Looking down at said litter, she strokes the back of her firstborn kit, a jet-black tom. “What should we name him?”

Tawnywing peeks closer over the mossy nest, her paw gently coming forward to touch the tom’s fluffy tail. “He reminds me of the tadpoles we’d see in the river. The dark fur and the curl to his tail?”

Leaflight peers closer and nods slowly, “now that you point it out, I see it too.”

Squirreltail rolls her eyes, “he does not look like a tadpole, you’re being ridiculous.”

Brambleheart shoves her, “he looks more like a tadpole than you do a squirrel!” She makes to shove him back but a scorching look from Fireheart stills the duo.

“I think Tadpolekit is a perfect name,” she meows, licking the tom’s head gently.

“Still don’t think he looks like a tadpole,” Squirreltail mutters under her breath. Fireheart’s ear twitches but she says nothing, merely nosing her second born kit, the only daughter.

“What about her?”

The kits fur is a unique golden brown with beautiful tabby stripes, identical to the stripes on Leaflight and Brambleheart’s pelts. Her golden colouring looks like a delicate mix between Tigerstar’s dark brown and Fireheart’s bright orange, a perfect middle ground.

“If we’re sticking with the animal theme, she could be Mothkit?” Squirreltail suggests. Tawnywing and Brambleheart go to tackle her, but Fireheart just stares at her newest daughter, thinking.

“Mothkit,” she murmurs. The kits golden tabby fur does mirror the moths that fly above Windclan’s moors when the flowers bloom. The same moths that haunt every inch of Thunderclan territory in the warm seasons. Looking back even further, Fireheart could almost remember the awe of seeing the glow of strange lights that were cold to the touch and the flutter of a moth’s wings, a feeling that haunts her no matter where she is, it seems.

“Mothkit is a beautiful name.”

Her words are absolute and so her kits just shrug and move onto the final kit.

“He looks like you, Brambleheart,” Tawnywing meows.

“Really?” Brambleheart replies, a mix of nerves and pride in his voice.

Leaflight nods, “out of all of us, you two look the most similar. He could be your clone almost, aside from the white belly of course.

“Why don’t you name him then?” Fireheart suggests.

Her son looks at her anxiously, shuffling his paws,“ are you sure? Don’t you want to name one?”

Fireheart just smiles, “I’ve done my work. I created them and named you four. You can help me pick out the names for these ones.” Her smile softens as her son's anxiety appears to spike, “I want you to pick.”

Brambleheart gazes at her for a moment before turning his attention to the smallest kit, dragging his tail tip gently down the kits back. “His fur reminds me of the hawk Mudfur and Whitetail caught that one time, the colour of the feathers looks almost the same. We could name him Hawkkit?”

Fireheart’s purr builds, comforting her son with the soothing sound. “Hawkkit is perfect.”

She looks at her four kits then down at her newest litter and is almost overwhelmed by the feeling of love and pride that overtakes her.

“Welcome to the clan, my little ones,” she whispers, tucking her nose into their newborn kit scent.

“Welcome to Windclan, Tadpolekit, Mothkit, and Hawkkit.”

Chapter Text

There are many studies surrounding the deadly intelligence of our avian friends, who’s cunning and ability to succeed and thrive in many different forms and environments can only be understated by our own.

Legends of birds touch almost every inch of human history, including the legends and sightings of various species of birds, known colloquially as Firehawks. Birds known for their unique ability to identify, locate, and spread fire in order to flush out prey to feast on. Birds that have no qualms with destroying homes and taking lives in order to fill their own bellies. Carrying burning sticks and dropping them to set the world below them ablaze.

It’s no wonder that hawks are called birds of prey for their ability to survive no matter the cost and to not only survive, but thrive, whenever and wherever the winds take them.

Firehawks, while bringing destruction, also serve another critical purpose.

Fire is a unique thing. In that it destroys all, uncaring of what it takes. Nothing can stand to its wrath; all will burn in the end. Yet, once the fire is out and the last embers have gone silent and cold, something amazing happens.

Life starts again.

For all that fire is called a killer, those burned ashes fertilize the soil and breathe life back into the emptiness, filling the void it left and from that void, life grows back stronger.