Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Allegiances:

Skyclan:

Leader: Leafstar—brown-and-cream tabby she-cat with amber eyes. Apprentice, Hawkpaw

Deputy: Sparrowpelt—dark brown tabby tom with yellow eyes

Medicine Cat(s): Echosong—silver tabby she-cat with green eyes. Apprentice, Tawnypaw

Warriors:

Cherrytail—tortoiseshell-and-white she-cat with blue eyes. Apprentice, Owlpaw

Waspwhisker—gray-and-white tom with blue eyes

Shrewtooth—skinny black tom with pale yellow eyes

Ebonyclaw—large black she-cat with green eyes (Daylight warrior)

Billystorm—ginger-and-white tom with leaf-green eyes (Daylight Warrior). Apprentice, Ashenpaw

Harveymoon—white tom with pale green eyes (Daylight Warrior)

Macgyver—black-and-white tom with yellow eyes. (Daylight Warrior) 

Rockshade—black tom with blue eyes. Apprentice, Featherpaw

Tinycloud—small white she-cat with blue eyes

Sagenose—Pale gray tom with amber eyes. Apprentice, Rileypaw

Rabbitleap—Brown tom with blue eyes.

Nettlesplash—Pale brown tom with amber eyes. Apprentice, Firepaw

Plumwillow—Dark gray she-cat with green eyes

Brambleclaw—Large brown tabby tom with dark amber eyes. 

Seedtail—Tan she-cat with darker spots, paws, and light amber eyes

Mayapool—Gray she-cat with a white belly and green eyes (Daylight warrior)

Harrybrook—Gray tom with dark amber eyes

Stormheart—Gray-and-ginger she-cat with amber eyes

Sandyclaw—Light brown tom with ginger legs and green eyes. Apprentice, Bellapaw

Birdwing—Black she-cat with blue eyes

Honeytail—Pale ginger she-cat with green eyes. Apprentice, Flightpaw

Juniperpelt—Cream tabby tom with yellow eyes

Hollyfrost—Black tom with gray paws and amber eyes (Daylight Warrior)

Apprentices:

Tawnypaw—Tortoiseshell and white she-cat with amber eyes (Medicine Cat Apprentice). 10 moons old

Featherpaw—Brown tabby she-cat with a white underbelly and blue eyes. 10 moons old

Hawkpaw—Brown tabby tom with white paws and dark amber eyes. 10 moons old

Firepaw—Light ginger tom with a white underbelly and blue eyes. 10 moons old 

Bellapaw—Pale ginger she-cat with white markings and green eyes. 8 moons old

Rileypaw—Pale gray tabby tom with blue eyes. 8 moons old 

Flightpaw—Black she-cat with pale green eyes. 6 moons old 

Owlpaw—Light brown tabby tom with green eyes. 6 moons old

Ashenpaw—Gray tabby she-cat with a darker belly and blue eyes. 6 moons old

Queens:

Clovertail—light brown she-cat with white belly and legs and green eyes (Adopted: Violetkit—Black-and-white she-cat with green eyes, Twigkit—Small gray she-cat with green eyes. 4.5 moons old)

Mintfur—Gray tabby she-cat with green eyes (Nursing Nettlesplash’s kits: Tadpolekit—Black she-cat with green eyes and stripes on her tail, Shadekit—Dark gray tom with green eyes and a lighter gray spot. 3.5 moons old)

Elders:

Fallowfern—Pale brown she-cat with blue eyes. Deaf

Brackenfall—Light brown tabby tom with green eyes

Tangle—ragged tabby tom loner with amber eyes

Patchfoot—black-and-white tom with green eyes

Petalnose—pale gray she-cat with blue eyes

Cyanide:

Leader: Darktail—White tom with black markings on his face, tail, and paws

The Council:

Forest—Scarred brown tom with leaf-green eyes (Hunter)

Moonlight—Silver-gray she-cat with green eyes (Fighter)

Root—Smoky gray she-cat with patches surrounding both ears, a smoky gray back and tail, and amber eyes (Fighter)

Fighters:

Blacktop—Huge black tom with yellow eyes

Haven—Pretty pure white she-cat with amber eyes

Link—Brown tabby tom with a lighter belly and amber eyes 

Smoke—Black she-cat with murky gray paws and amber eyes

Washington—Solid white tom with yellow eyes

Patch—White tom with a black spot on his lower back, as well as covering the top of his head and ears, has blue eyes

Raindrop—Pure white she-cat with blue eyes 

Thorn—Gray and brown mottled tom with yellow-gold eyes and black streaks on his sides

Ash—Gray mottled she-cat with blue-gray eyes and black flecks.

Stone—Gray-tan mottled tom with cocoa brown eyes, notched ears, scarred shoulders and haunches

Ripper—Black she-cat with white streaks and ice blue eyes 

Hunters:

Sycamore—Reddish-brown tabby tom with amber eyes

Flash—Gray and white tabby tom with blue eyes

America—Black-and-white patched tom with bright blue eyes

Poppy—Dark tortoiseshell she-cat with yellow eyes

Star—White-and-ginger she-cat with blue eyes

Ginny—Bright ginger she-cat with green eyes

Wren—Pale silver tabby she-cat with muted green eyes

Firefly—Gray she-cat with ginger patches and dark green eyes

Leaflet—A brown tabby with a white tuft on his chest, and green/orange eyes 

Healer:

Dusk—Dusky gray and brown mottled tom with bright amber eyes

Nursing:

Frost—lean creamy white she-cat with silver points, icy blue eyes, long plumy tail (Mother of Thorn’s kits: Flower—small fluffy peach and cream she-kit with tawny brown patches and yellow-gold eyes, Striker—Lean gray and white tom-kit, black streaks on his sides and icy blue eyes, Mouse—Tiny brown and gray she-kit with yellow-gold eyes)

Loners:

Ravenpaw—Jet black tom with a white dash, tail-tip and amber eyes

Barley—Black-and-white tom with blue eyes

Lily—Short furred brown she-cat with emerald eyes

Eva—White she-cat with tortoiseshell patches and yellow eyes

Harley—A gray-and-brown tabby tom with green eyes

The Four Clans:

Blackstar—Large white tom with jet-black paws and yellow eyes. Leader of Shadowclan.

Firestar—Ginger tabby tom with green eyes. Leader of Thunderclan

Ivypaw—Silver-and-white tabby she-cat with dark blue eyes. Apprentice of Thunderclan.

Breezepelt—Jet black tom with yellow eyes. Warrior of Windclan.

Tawnypelt—Tortoiseshell she-cat with green eyes. Warrior of Shadowclan.

Shrewfoot—Gray she-cat with black feet and light amber eyes. Warrior of Shadowclan.

Flametail—Dark ginger tom with bright blue eyes. Medicine Cat of Shadowclan.

Tigerheart—Dark brown tabby tom with amber eyes. Warrior of Shadowclan.

Sootpaw—White tom with black paws, ears, and tail-tip, and green eyes. Apprentice of Shadowclan

Chapter 1:

“Tawnypaw, I need you to fetch some more juniper berries and ragwort, please.”

The tortoiseshell she-cat looked up from where she’d been sorting some of the older herbs and nodded. Silently, she snagged two of the berries on a claw and picked up some of the Ragwort, passing them over to Echosong. Her mentor gave her a nod of thanks, then turned back to Ravenpaw, placing the herbs near his mouth. 

“Ravenpaw,” the silver she-cat murmured, bending down to set the plants near him to eat. “I have some more herbs for you. Can you eat them?”

The ailing tom’s eyes opened slightly, and he gave a stiff nod. Tawnypaw turned away as her mentor helped him eat and turned back to her herbs, frustrated that she could do nothing more than sort plants while her clan suffered.

Half a moon had passed since the fire and battle with the rogue group Cyanide, and hardly anything had happened since. It seemed the rogues were licking their wounds and regrouping like Skyclan was, which was just as good, considering that a burnt forest meant very little food and a weakened clan. That included next to no new herbs, which resulted in Echosong having to rely on her own stores and the daylight warriors’ Twolegs to care for the clan. They did have a lot, thanks to their large territory, but with a cold spell falling across the gorge, despite it not even being leaffall, there was a deep-seated, unspoken fear in the medicine den that they wouldn’t have enough to see them through leaf-bare.

Ravenpaw was another issue. The old tom had been very kind to the clan, and Tawnypaw herself had grown quite fond of him in the three moons since he’d arrived, but he was quickly draining their supplies and just not getting better. Echosong could not see what was wrong with him, what mysterious disease he had, and in the end they’d resorted to simply treating his symptoms to try and prolong his life. Barley, Rileypaw, and Bellapaw were constant visitors to the den, and Tawnypaw liked to think that she had become good friends with the three former loners as well.

“It’s still pouring to no end out there! You medicine cats sure have it lucky.”

Tawnypaw turned to see Sagenose duck into the den with a soaked rabbit between his jaws. He shook his fur near the entrance, spraying droplets all around him. Tawnypaw spared a look outside to see that the scenery hadn’t changed since she’d woken up that morning, rain falling so hard outside that one could hardly see two fox-lengths ahead of them. Thunder rolled in the distance.

“Sagenose,” Echosong looked up from where she’d been ministering to Ravenpaw, eyeing him sternly. “I hope you haven’t been out there more than necessary.”

The pale gray warrior chuckled, but Tawnypaw could see the faint signs of frustration in the subtle flicking of his tail. Sagenose had been injured badly during the fire, most of his right flank having sustained burns. Besides Patchfoot (who’d dislocated his leg, but had retired to the elder's den the day after Hollyfrost had been made a warrior), he was the only warrior not back on active duty. His fur, short, stubby, and kitten-soft, had just started to grow back, and he still required a new poultice every day or so.

“Gladly,” he responded. “Though I have to admit, the water feels nice in small doses. Has Owlpaw come in yet?”

Tawnypaw blinked at the mention of Sagenose’s quiet son. He’d been made an apprentice to her mother, Cherrytail, hardly eight sunrises ago, but other than that she’d heard nothing about him. 

“No,” Echosong shook her head. “Why?”

“There was a big thorn in his nest,” the warrior said, sitting down in one of the free nests. “Gave him a pretty nasty scratch last night. I told him to go see you.”

“Featherpaw made the nests last,” Tawnypaw hummed. “I can tell her to be more careful.”

“Yes,” Echosong shot an approving look at her apprentice, and Tawnypaw straightened with pride. “Could you go see where they are? Sparrowpelt would know for sure; he’ll be in the leader’s den with Leafstar.”

Tawnypaw huffed softly at the thought of having to go out with the weather like this, but she nodded anyway.

“I brought a rabbit for the three of you, by the way,” Sagenose put in, setting down the fresh-kill as he spoke. Tawnypaw’s stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday. “I’m sure there’ll be some left over by the time you get back.”

“Trying to bribe me?” She shot at him playfully, already making her way to the exit.

“Oh, no,” Echosong laughed in return. “It’s a warning before I get this nice, juicy prey all to myself.”

“You would never.”

“Oh? Well then, I suppose you should be quick to find out.”

Now with the appropriate motivation, Tawnypaw sucked in a deep breath and dove into the torrential rain. The medicine cat den was nearer to the bottom of the ravine, and the rocks were slippery and soaking wet. The river, swelling past its banks, though not yet to the point of flooding, roared and foamed with the rise of water. 

Tawnypaw huffed to herself, bunched up her legs, and leapt to the next rock so she could reach the leader’s den, higher up on the cliffside. What usually was a small jump that she’d performed dozens of times before became a laborious task as a gust of wind nearly knocked her off her feet once she’d landed. Blinking rain out of her eyes, the tortoiseshell steadied herself and made another jump to the next rock, paws splashing in a puddle as she landed. Tawnypaw shivered at the sensation, but thankfully there were no more jumps to be made, and she quickly ducked into Leafstar’s den, shaking some of the water out of her fur. 

“—too dangerous to—” Sparrowpelt’s voice cut off as he caught sight of his niece. “Ah, Tawnypaw! Does Echosong need anything?”

Tawnypaw looked over to see her leader and deputy sitting together next to Leafstar and Billystorm’s dual nests, seeming to have been deep in conversation. She quickly relayed her message from Echosong, sensing that she was interrupting an important conversation.

“Hum,” Sparrowpelt tilted his head, thinking. “Owlpaw is cleaning the nursery. I sent Featherpaw out with a hunting patrol over in the plains, I think. They should be back by sunhigh, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it takes them longer in this weather.”

“And people ask why I chose to be a medicine cat,” Tawnypaw chuckled, shaking her head at the thought of being on a hunting patrol in this weather. Sparrowpelt’s eyes twinkled, but it was Leafstar who answered.

“Don’t go flaunting it, or I’ll have a half-dozen apprentices begging to join your den by sundown. Now, I suggest you go find your friends,” the dismissal was very friendly but clear. Tawnypaw nodded and left the den without any protest, ducking back into the elments.

Stumbling through the rain. Tawnypaw leapt over to the nursery, which thankfully was only a couple fox-tails away. Ducking inside once again, her heart warmed as the warm scent of cats wafted up her nose.

“Ah, Tawnypaw!” Clovertail raised her head in welcome, looking up from where she’d been telling Shadekit and Twigkit a story. “What brings you here?”

“Just Owlpaw,” Tawnypaw smiled, catching sight of said tom in the corner, rolling up a soiled bed of moss. Next to him, his sister Fightpaw was scowling, with disgust practically rolling off of her as she worked. Owlpaw, on the other paw, seemed much more content with his role. “Echosong wants him for a bit, I’m afraid.”

“Tawnypaw!” Violetkit exclaimed from where she’d been play-wrestling with Tadpolekit. “Is the storm getting any better? It’s pouring out there and I’m bored!”

“It’s still raining like a waterfall out there, I’m afraid,” Tawnypaw chuckled in reply. Had she been this theatrical as a kit? “I could hardly keep my footing. It’s definitely not weather for kits to be playing in.”

“That’s not fair!” Violetkit humpf’ed, pawing at the dusty ground. 

“I’m gonna go crazy if I can’t leave this place!” Tadpolekit added overdramatically, pouncing on Shadekit. Her brother squealed in defiance, and they soon began to squabble.

“Stop that, you two!” Mintfur scolded them, picking up Tadpolekit by the scruff of her neck and setting her down a tail-length or so away. “No roughhousing in the nursery.”

Ignoring the whining of the younger kits, Tawnypaw turned to Flightpaw and Owlpaw.

“Sagenose told me you were supposed to come to the medicine den today, Owlpaw,” she said. Owlpaw blinked, looking up from his work. Flightpaw just huffed and focused more on it. “He said you have a pretty nasty scratch from a thorn in your nest.”

“It’s nothing,” the light brown tom replied lightly. Tawnypaw angled her head to take a better look at him, and glimpsed a dark streak of a partially healed wound on his left shoulder. It wasn’t serious, but would need some comfrey or dock to prevent an infection. “Dad’s just overreacting a bit.” Tawnypaw sent him a deadpan look, which Owlpaw returned with one of light confusion. “It hardly even stings anymore.”

“Your wound could get infected, and you’ll have to take time off training,” she tried. This technique had worked when Echosong had used it on Featherpaw. Perhaps it would work on Owlpaw, too. “It’ll only take a couple minutes, and we still have plenty of dock.”

Owlpaw wavered, paw hovering from where he was rolling some moss into a ball. “I don’t want to be a strain on your herb stores,” he said uncertainly.

“It’s better to get it over with, Owlpaw,” Mintfur put in, batting Tadpolekit away from where she was trying to sneak up on a sleeping Twigkit. “Trust me. I know from experience.”

“And leave me to finish the nursery,” Flightpaw grumbled, rolling her eyes. Clovertail sent her a sharp look. 

Owlpaw sighed, then finally stepped away from his moss. “Fine,” he gave in, standing. “I’ll get it looked at. Happy?”

“Very.” Tawnypaw purred, brushing off the annoyed look Flightpaw shot her. “It’s my job to be.”

The two left the nursery after that, ducking back into the pouring rain. Tawnypaw raised her eyes to the stormy sky as they stumbled their way down to the medicine den. What was she going to do with all these apprentices not going to the medicine den when they needed to? At this rate, they were just going to make everything worse.

A shape flashed in the corner of her eye, catching Tawnypaw’s attention. Looking up, she glimpsed Hawkpaw on a small ledge overlooking the path she and Owlpaw were taking. The brown tabby had tucked himself under a small overhang, and was beckoning for Tawnypaw to meet him there.

Tawnypaw’s stomach growled, and for a moment she considered just leaving him there because for Starclan’s sake she was starving, but eventually sighed, resigned herself to eating stale, cold rabbit, and turned to Owlpaw.

“Hawkpaw needs me for a minute,” she said, stopping just a fox-length or so away from the medicine den. “Echosong can give you your treatment. Could you tell her I’ll be back in a minute?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

Reassured by the answer as she was going to be, Tawnypaw jumped up to the ledge Hawkpaw had commandeered, nearly losing her footing and falling on a particularly slippery section of the rocky floor before reaching her littermate. Hawkpaw scooted over to allow her room under the overhang, and Tawnypaw shook herself out once she joined him, ignoring her brother’s squawk of surprise and annoyance.

“What was that for?” he huffed, shaking himself to be rid of the droplets Tawnypaw had sprayed over him. 

“I’m postponing eating a perfectly good rabbit for this,” Tawnypaw huffed, shooting him a deadpan look. “I might as well be comfortable. Didn’t you see how I nearly brained myself trying to get up here?”

“You were fine.”

“Tell that to my soaking wet underbelly and wrenched claw. What did you want to talk about, anyways?”

Hawkpaw snorted, and Tawnypaw rolled her eyes, knowing the wrenched claw was an exaggeration but not really caring.

“Just… have you heard anything about what we’re going to do about Cyanide? Or about my…” He paused, paws scratching at the ground. “Situation?”

Tawnypaw let out a long breath, feeling a little bit annoyed. She’d had to postpone eating for this? Ever since Hawkpaw had revealed his powers to Echosong, he was always trying to learn more about what they were doing, as if they weren’t basically stuck in camp anyways. And whenever he couldn’t figure out what was going on, he went to Tawnypaw for answers, as if she wasn’t just as left out of the loop as he was. So far, only Echosong, Leafstar, Sparrowpelt, and their parents knew about Hawkpaw’s abnormal powers and her own involvement with them, and she was just as glad that they didn’t talk about them all that much. Ever since Sharpclaw had died, it was nice distracting herself from how it had been her idea to keep the whole thing a secret.

Hawkpaw still hadn’t mentioned that part to Echosong, and she didn’t look forward to the day it got brought up.

“Leafstar’s called our parents and Seedtail into her den a couple times, but that’s probably because they know the most about Cyanide,” she sighed, rattling off the information after a moment. “Echosong and I are running low on horsetail and marigold, and Sparrowpelt had a mouse for breakfast. Anything else?”

“Very funny,” Hawkpaw huffed. However, he flattened his ears, conveying a sense of frustration. “I can tell you’re annoyed with me, you know. If you want me to stop, just say so.”

“Telling you to stop won’t make you stop,” she shot back, regretting the words as they whipped through the rain much more harshly than she intended. “Look, I get wanting to know more. I do, too. But calm down for a bit; Cyanide isn’t about to show up in the gorge and kill us all by sundown. We’ve got time.”

Hawkpaw looked like he wanted to say something, but then decided not to. Tawnypaw rolled her shoulders, preparing to jump down from the ledge. Outside, the rainfall had noticeably begun to lessen. Finally!

“If you really want to know what to do next, try that dream-walking thing of yours,” she finally replied. “ Make Starclan talk to you. Now, I’m going to go eat.”

Hawkpaw hummed, now visibly deep in thought. Her comment must have struck a chord with him. Shrugging to herself and reasoning he’d tell her if something of note happened, Tawnypaw leapt down to the medicine den, ready to eat a very welcome lunch.

Chapter Text

“Star. Star. Star~.”

A paw prodded incessantly at Star’s side, and she groaned, instinctively curling in around herself. Her bones ached, and sleep beckoned at the back of her mind, causing the intrusion to be quite unwelcome.

“Go away,” she muttered, swiping out blindly at the air in front of her. “Let me sleep.”

“Star. You promised you’d take Leaflet today! I’ve had him for the last four days; don’t let me down now!”

Star creaked open a single eye at the comment, looking up to see a black and white patched tom with piercing blue eyes staring back at her. Hissing to herself once again, she batted out at him. Now with her target in sight, she struck him right on the nose, making him flinch back.

“Quiet, America, or I’ll make you take him a fifth day.”

The tom, America, shot her an unimpressed look. At that, Star let out a long-suffering sigh, opened both her eyes, and stood, stretching as she did so. America snickered.

“I’m gonna go find Washington,” he announced as Star sent him a low look. “He said he’ll patrol us during our next outing.”

“As long as he isn’t bringing Ripper along. That cat is a menace, I tell you.”

America’s eyes twinkled. “So you always say. Come out once you’re awake. We gotta get breakfast for the Council before sunrise, or Darktail will have our hides.”

Right. Predawn duty was always the worst, and definitely one of the most despicable jobs of a Hunter, in her own opinion. Star shook herself out, loosening her muscles, then spared a moment or so to groom herself as she took in her surroundings. 

Just as usual, very little of the predawn light filtered through the leaves of the large tree that sheltered the Hunters’ den. Across from her, Flash and Ginny were still asleep, the two mates curled next to each other and dead to the world. Sycamore and Poppy were also still asleep, but Firefly’s nest was empty.

Well, they needed to get going if they were going to get back before sunrise. Star spared one last lick to her ruffled fur and trotted out of the den, shivering in the predawn chill. The terrible rainstorm from yesterday had blown over during the night, and had left behind a damp, muddy chill that seeped into her bones.

The rest of the predawn patrol were huddled by the large oak tree that was situated in the middle of camp, conversing quietly in the early morning air. Firefly and Wren were both talking to each other, while Leaflet sat off to one side, the small tabby hunched over in the morning chill. America was just rejoining them, his much more stoic brother, Washington, following a couple paces behind. 

“Star, Washington,” Wren nodded. As the oldest of the group, they turned to her as the de facto leader after a moment of hesitation. Washington could technically contest her for that position, since he was a Fighter, but the stoic tom simply dipped his head, conceding to her. “Good morning. Where do you want to go today?”

“Nowhere near Skyclan,” Firefly muttered, halfheartedly grooming her pelt. Washington shot her a stern look, eyes flickering towards the Council Den, but the gray and ginger she-cat only flicked an ear dismissively. “What? They have warriors who know how to fight and the fire has practically burnt their part of the forest to the ground. Even if we caught any prey, we’d have to fight them for it.”

“And we only have one Fighter with us,” Star found herself agreeing. Firefly sent her a knowing look. “Maybe we should go a different way today.”

“I suppose we can go parallel to them; I’d say opposite, but Root said there’s a badger den out that way,” Wren conceded, nodding. “We need to get going if we want to get back by dawn. Washington?”

Said tom just hummed, tail flicking dismissively. Wren, however, knew him well enough to know that it was an agreement, so she stood, stretched briefly, and trotted over to the sole exit of the bramble-enclosed camp. The rest of the group followed her lead, and Star let them pass, falling in step with Leaflet, who was trailing behind at the tail end of the group. 

“Let me guess,” the young tom muttered, shooting Star a low look with his dual colored eyes. “You got stuck with me today?”

“That easy to tell?” She replied, forcing a cheerful tinge to her tone to make her words teasing. Oh, this was going to be fun. Though she didn’t strictly dislike Leaflet, the tom was a terror to teach.

“America’s been complaining about me to anyone who will listen for the last couple days.” Ahead of them, said tom’s ears flattened in embarrassment. Star had to repress a snicker. “I’m stubborn, not deaf, you know!” The last bit of the words carried over the entire group as they left camp, and America ducked his head, shoulders shaking with concealed laughter. Even from the back of the group, Star could tell that Wren was rolling her eyes.

Star shook her head as they took one of Cyanide’s recently formed trails away from the one that led to Skyclan and towards the section of the forest that had not been burnt to the ground. Wren took the lead, Washington at her heels, while she and Leaflet continued to keep pace at the back.

Cyanide had been lucky over the last half moon, much luckier than Skyclan. The fire that had razed most of the forest near the gorge had missed their camp by a fairly wide margin, and only Rain had died before the rains had come, inhaling too much smoke while out patrolling with a couple hunters. Star remembered quite vividly when Darktail had returned from the attack and heard the news. Poppy’s wounds were sure to scar. 

But at least Skyclan had been taught a lesson. Those cats were crazy, pushing their funky religion and culture on whoever was unfortunate to cross paths with them. America and Washington knew this firsthand, when several of their housecat friends had been coerced into joining. The two brothers had used to belong to twolegs, but after their friends had all left to join either Skyclan or the rogue gangs, they’d run off in fear of being attacked themselves and happened to meet Star, who’d introduced them to Darktail and his cause. She’d been close friends with the toms ever since.

Cyanide was a young group, but it had risen quickly in response to the threat Skyclan posed to the forest and Twolegplace. Star was glad to be a part of such a cause for freedom. 

Firefly stopped suddenly, drawing Star out of her thoughts as the young she-cat angled her ears in a way that requested the rest of the patrol to halt, and stalked off to the right, soon disappearing into the undergrowth. Star opened her mouth, catching a whiff of starling on the wind. 

"Fan out," Wren murmured, as to not risk the loss of Firefly's catch. "Meet you back at camp at sunrise."

"Holler if you need me," Washington muttered, already patting some fallen leaves into some semblance of a nest. He yawned. "I’ll probably be awake enough to help you."

America snorted, whacked Washington once with his tail, and stalked off in a different direction as Wren disappeared into the bushes with a flick of her tail. Star let out a subtle sigh as Leaflet turned to her with an unimpressed gaze.

“Okay, Hunter,” he drawled, licking his paw and drawing it over an ear. “Show me what ya got.”

Ignoring Leaflet’s blatant disrespect, Star took a third route, pausing only momentarily to make sure Leaflet was following her. Opening her mouth to welcome the scents of the early morning forest, she caught a stale scent of fox, perhaps a day or so old, and mouse, which seemed to have passed by in the night. 

“I’m not smelling anything,” Leaflet complained. “All the prey’s still asleep.” 

Star flicked the tom with her tail, patience wearing thin. “Be quiet,” she scolded him. “Or I’ll get Darktail or Forest to put you on herb duty. You’re scaring away all the prey from here to Skyclan.”

Leaflet made a face, clearly annoyed, but said nothing in the end, taking Star’s threat to heart. Doing her best to ignore Leaflet’s body movements, she crept forwards through the brush for a couple more foxlengths, mouth open. Finally, the mouse scent from earlier returned, this time much stronger than the overnight residue from earlier. Signaling for Leaflet to still, she crouched, ducking under a large shrub as her prey came into sight. A moment later the mouse was caught, and Star trotted back to the young tom with the catch between her jaws. She dropped it at his feet.

“There’s breakfast,” she announced. “Eat up. If we find something good for Darktail, he might give me enough time to teach you how to hunt rabbits.”

“We aren’t supposed to eat until Darktail does,” Leaflet responded, giving her a look. This time Star rolled her eyes. 

“No one follows that rule unless the prey is good, and you know that,” she responded curtly. Bratty pain in the tail. “I know you’ve eaten with America and Wren. Now come on and eat, unless you want to hunt on an empty belly.”

Star bent down and tore a chunk out of the mouse before Leaflet could respond, and the other cat simply muttered to himself and followed suit. In a couple moments, the mouse was gone and the remains tossed to the side, and they were off again. 

However, though she would never admit it, Leaflet did seem to have a point. After the mouse, she caught only the stale scents of prey, and her companion was getting restless, wanting to do something more than just walking around. 

Finally, as the sun peeked over the horizon and they had wandered a bit closer to Skyclan territory than she’d meant to, Star caught a whiff of thrush. Yes! Leaflet wouldn’t go after this one, since, of course, thrush was Root’s favorite and she couldn’t risk losing it. Besides that, prey meant she wasn’t going back home empty-pawed. Prey meant she wasn’t to be punished.

She dropped down again, and Leaflet, also catching the scent, made as if to stalk it, but Star pushed him to the side, knowing exactly what the outcome of that would be. Thankfully, though the brown tom hissed quietly, he stood down. Star stalked forwards carefully, eyeing the thrush with a steady graze as it perched on a low hanging branch. 

Then, a black blur nigh exploded from the brush opposite her, clawing at the thrush. Star flinched in surprise as a black she-cat caught the thrush with a leap that was astonishing for someone her age, crashing back down as the thrush squawked. Hurriedly, the black she-cat killed it by snapping its neck.

Star flattened her ears. That had been her catch! With all the ruckus being made, she wasn’t going to find any more prey for a while around here. Scowling, she turned to Leaflet. 

“Go get Washington,” she whispered. “She stole my catch.”

Leaflet’s eyes glittered in excitement, and he was off in a heartbeat, racing back the way they came. Star swallowed in sudden nervousness, once he was gone. She was on her own until he came back, and she hadn’t Challenged someone for prey outside the Hunters’ group before, but she forced herself to push the anxiety down. She could do this! She couldn’t exactly go back and tell Forest she hadn’t caught anything!

“Hey!” She barked, standing up and emerging from the brush, hoping that she sounded much more confident than she felt. The she-cat’s head whipped up, ears going flat as a second cat, this one a sandy-pelted tom and perhaps a moon or two younger than her, emerged from around a tree. “I was tracking that thrush. It’s mine!”

The sandy-pelted tom flinched. “Sorry…” he muttered, looking frightened. The black she-cat sent him a look.

“We’re not giving her our prey, Firepaw!” She nearly snapped, before returning her gaze to Star. “I caught the thrush, miss. You have no claim on it.”

“I do,” Star hissed, flattening her ears as well. This would be easy enough. Forest had been teaching her intimidation tactics for moons; the tom, Firepaw (Skyclan, then. He was a bit far from his territory, wasn’t he?) certainly didn’t look like a fighter, and the she-cat was hardly more than a kit. Even though Star only knew basic fighting moves, intimidating them into giving her the prey would be easy. “I saw it. I want it. I get it.”

“Try me,” the she-cat hissed, crouching over the thrush. Star tilted her head.

“You’re a ways out from Skyclan’s boundaries, aren’t you?” she asked, trying to buy time until Washington could come. She stepped forwards, and though the she-cat didn’t move, Firepaw stepped back. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen so far away now, wouldn’t we?”

“Please, you’re only a rogue.” And there. A slight tremble in the she-cat’s voice. A waver. Fear. As it should be. Only the foolish did not fear Cyanide’s power.

“I am a member of Cyanide. I know very well what I deserve.” 

They fell silent for a moment, each she-cat sizing the other up. Firepaw backed up another step. Then, there was a rustle behind her, and Star risked a glance to see Washington emerge from the undergrowth, Leaflet looking like a three-moon-old kit next to the large white tom. Firepaw flinched again, and now even the she-cat looked afraid. 

Washington bore his fangs. Firepaw whimpered. 

“I knew this was a bad idea…” he muttered, nearly trembling. “Flightpaw, the thrush isn’t worth it. Let’s just go. We can catch another.”

“It’s mine,” Flightpaw protested, but it was weak. Washington smirked, padding forwards. Firepaw moved back, but Flightpaw held her ground, despite now being visibly just as terrified as Firepaw was. Washington stopped a mouse-length away from her, looking her up and down.

“Darktail will like this one,” he finally rumbled, amusement glittering in his eyes. He switched his focus to Firepaw. “Get out of here, kit, before I give you some serious scars to think about.”

Firepaw squeaked, but didn’t move. His bright blue eyes found Star’s for a moment, and she found herself surprised to feel pity for the poor thing. He and Flightpaw probably didn’t know any better, being raised in a place like Skyclan.

And then the moment was over. Washington hissed, and Firepaw was gone, racing away into the underbrush.

“Well, at least he can run fast,” Leaflet remarked lazily. Star watched the fern fronds swish from the tom’s departure for a moment before switching her attention back to Flightpaw and Washington. 

“Pick up the thrush,” Washington announced, and Star had to give him credit as Flightpaw hurried to obey. The tom was quiet, but when he wanted to be, he could be just as intimidating as Darktail. “You’re coming with us.”

Flightpaw looked as if she wanted to protest, but an unsheathing of Washington’s claws clearly made her think better of it. The bulky tom seemed satisfied with her reaction, turning around, back in the direction of home. Star and Leaflet fell in behind Flightpaw, making sure she wouldn’t try to escape. The poor thing was practically trembling as they walked. 

Star, on the other paw, was practically singing with excitement. Intimidation was something Forest had only introduced to the Hunters recently, and it only worked part of the time, depending on if the Fighters were around to help out. But she’d done it! She’d gotten the thrush and found a new recruit in one fell stroke. She hadn’t felt so proud since she’d helped the Fighters by catching prey to Mark Skyclan.

Soon enough, Star caught sight of the large oak tree that signaled the center of camp. She had to almost physically restrain herself from running ahead, extremely excited as they walked into camp. 

Everyone else was now awake, as the sun has long since risen into the sky. The confrontation with the two Skyclan cats had delayed them significantly, but as Star looked around, she knew no one would mind.

First off, it seemed that Wren, Firefly, and America had found enough food to give the Council and Darktail on their own. Root and Moonlight, the two Fighters on the Council, each had a large shrew, while Forest sat in his usual perch in the lower branches of the oak tree, where he was able to watch all the goings-on in camp. Ripper and Patch were currently fighting over a mouse (as she watched, Patch cuffed Ripper over the ear, sending small droplets of blood onto the dirt. Star huffed as the younger she-cat backed down. Served her right for Challenging a Fighter twice her age), while Dusk watched in the shadows, hardly visible from where he watched the rest of the camp carefully, in a similar manner to Forest. 

Cyanide. The name might strike fear into the hearts of their enemies, but to Star, this place was home, and their members her kin.

Moonlight was the first to address their arrival, standing up and leaving Root behind to pad towards them. Her silver pelt glimmered almost gold in the post-dawn light, eyes shimmering as she walked.

"Star," she mewed, eyes falling on Flightpaw. The Skyclan cat winced, nearly dropping the thrush in her jaws. "Who is this?"

Star drew herself up proudly. "She calls herself Flightpaw. She's from Skyclan, but strayed beyond her borders and caught my thrush. She showed promise in not backing down when I confronted her. Washington thinks she could be an asset to our cause."

Moonlight snorted, tail flicking dismissively. "Darktail!" She called out. Star ignored the prick in her belly when she said that. She had hoped the elder she-cat would pay attention to her achievement. "I’m sure you want to meet this one. Star." The she-cat's gaze shot up. "Good job. I'll tell Forest how you did."

Star sucked in a long breath as she turned and padded back to Root and her food, the ground practically swaying beneath her paws. Leaflet snorted, and she flicked him with her tail. Compliments from Moonlight, her mother, were rare, and getting some sort of approval from her, despite being a Hunter, would be the highlight of her moon.

“We have a new addition?” Star turned to see Darktail padding towards them, an expression of interest contorting his body. Flightpaw flinched again, dropping the thrush. “Leaflet, bring the thrush to my den. Raindrop!” The white she-cat’s head perked up from where she’d been grooming herself. “Come with me. And,” His voice became softer, more kind, as he turned to Flightpaw. “What is your name, kit?”

Flightpaw’s eyes flashed as she stepped away from the thrush so Leaflet could take it, and even though she didn’t comment on being called a kit, Star knew that Darktail hadn’t missed the moment of rebelliousness. 

“You killed Sharpclaw,” she declared quietly, flattening her ears. Darktail sighed, eyes flickering. 

“He died from the fire,” he replied easily. “He was wounded and I couldn’t help him escape without sacrificing myself. It was a mistake, one I hope to not repeat. Now, your name?”

Flightpaw blinked, and for a moment, she was silent. 

“Flightpaw. I’m apprenticed to Honeytail. I’m from Skyclan,” she finally murmured, as if it were a confession. Darktail purred briefly, shooting a look at Raindrop, who’d just approached. The she-cat nodded as she assessed the Skyclan cat, then beckoned with her tail. Darktail nudged Flightpaw forwards, and she mutely followed. They went over to the edge of camp, and were gone around a bush in a few moments.

So. That had really just happened. Star felt as if she was on cloud nine.

“Star?” The ginger-and-white she-cat turned to see America padding up to her. The Hunter tilted his nose to where Raindrop, Darktail, and Flightpaw had vanished. “You found her?”

“Yup!” She chirped. “She’ll make a great Fighter.”

America snorted. “We’ll see if she’s smart enough to realize that she’s been brainwashed since she was a kit. Poor thing. She looked terrified.”

“Darktail and Raindrop will get to her. They did with you.”

America purred, eyes twinkling. “Yes. Yes, they did. You’re on a roll, you know. Keep on going like this, and you’ll be able to Challenge Forest for his position by next newleaf.”

Star flicked her tail. “Mmm. That’s a thought, isn’t it? You sure you don’t just want special treatment?”

A huff. “Cruel.” 

“Kittypet blood runs in your veins, my friend.”

“Rude. Last I checked, I brought in the most prey yesterday.”

“So you say. Want to sunbathe for a bit? Leaflet’s training can wait.”

“Fine.”

Star chuckled, and trotted off with America to find a good spot to lay down.

Chapter Text

When Hawkpaw opened his eyes, he knew that he had, once again, made a terrible mistake. 

He looked up, and as expected, the giant, nearly leafless trees of the Dark Forest loomed up into a pitch black sky. It hadn’t changed since the last time he stumbled across it a half-moon or so ago, the same pale mist curling around his paws, though there was now a distant scent of crowfood in the air.

Fox dung. Hawkpaw shivered, casting his gaze around the forest to try and see if he could see anyone. Finding no one, he let out a breath, trotting over to the base of a tree and crouching down, trying to figure out what to do. The tom he had met last time he was here had told him that falling asleep would allow him to leave, but Hawkpaw wasn’t that tired. Sleep would be some time in coming, and he wasn’t exactly comfortable trying to drift off in a place where such evil cats lived.

He just wanted to find Starclan. Why did he always end up in the Dark Forest?

Still, there wasn’t much he could do. Hawkpaw rested his chin on his forepaws, keeping his eyes trained on the forest before him. If Hawkfrost and Tigerstorm—or whatever their names were—were still hanging around, he wanted to keep an eye out. 

Then there was a crunch of paws on a dried leaf. Hawkpaw’s ears perked up as a new, foreign scent entered his jaws. Scrambling up to his feet, Hawkpaw turned around, catching sight of a cat in the distance. They were facing away from him, so he couldn’t see their face, but Hawkpaw could just make out through the mist that they were a tortoiseshell, with ragged, clumped fur. 

Hawkpaw’s breath caught in his throat as he pressed himself against the tree, begging to not be seen. But it seemed he had made some sort of sound, or the cat had scented him, for they turned around, her (they seemed to be a she-cat) dark amber eyes connecting with his. 

Hawkpaw froze. The she-cat’s ear twitched, and she smirked, bounding towards him. The tom crouched down as she approached, watching her with narrowed eyes. Running would do very little to help him at this point, probably, and he might even run into more cats if he did. The cat probably knew this forest like the back of her tail, and there was little undergrowth to hide in anyways. Shoving down his fear, Hawkpaw unsheathed his claws, flattening his ears as she approached. 

“Now what are you doing here, young one?” She purred roughly. Hawkpaw hissed back at her. He’d have to be blind and deaf to not realize that the malice and anger rolling into the air was coming from her.

“None of your business,” he spat. The she-cat chuckled. Subtly, her claws slid out. Hawkpaw stepped back involuntarily.

“Aw, you’ve got spunk,” she purred. “Though I do hope you have some brains in you. What are you doing here?”

“I suggest you leave the apprentice alone, Mapleshade.” A new voice sounded from behind him. Hawkpaw nearly jumped a foot in the air, while the she-cat scowled, eyes focusing just above his shoulder. “I mean, I am fairly certain you remember what happened last time you challenged me.”

Hawkpaw finally found it in himself to take his eyes off of Mapleshade for a moment, glancing to see who was behind him. To his surprise, the tom that he ran into last time he was here, the large white tom with the black paws and ears, was there. His yellow eyes glittered menacingly, but Hawkpaw could only detect worry, protectiveness, and a slight undercurrent of fear in his mind.

Mapleshade, meanwhile, just chuckled.

“If you so wish,” she purred again, sickeningly. “Your fate is already sealed, Blackstar. You won’t last a moon here once you die. I wonder how long this one will.” She tilted her head, thinking. “I’m sure Darkstripe could have some fun. Or some of the trainees—”

“Leave, Mapleshade.” A flare of red-hot anger permeated the air. “Or I’ll make you.”

“Fine, fine. We have all the time in the world to settle our differences, anyways. Goodnight.” Mapleshade flicked her tail, then she was gone, disappearing into the mist.

Hawkpaw relaxed slightly as she disappeared, knowing the white tom wasn’t going to hurt him—immediately, at least, and in a place like this, that was enough for him. He turned back to the tom, who looked back at him with a faint interest.

“Sorry,” he found himself apologizing. “I’m not sure why I showed up here again. Thanks for helping me out.”

“Cats rarely end up here on purpose,” Blackstar murmured, flicking his tail. His yellow eyes lingered on the patch of mist where Mapleshade had left, as if he expected her to return at any moment. Perhaps she would, and with backup this time. “At least the first few times. Come. Mapleshade isn’t one to honor a promise.”

“Where can we go?” Hawkpaw hurried to follow as Blackstar took off at a brisk pace into what seemed to be a random direction. “This place all looks the same.”

“To the untrained eye,” Blackstar grunted, speeding up to a trot. “No more talking.”

Hawkpaw shut his mouth as he followed the clan leader—speaking of, why was he here and not in Starclan?—as they made their way through the forest. As they went, Hawkpaw caught sight of several shadow-like cats similar to the one he had seen last time, but if Blackstar saw them, he ignored them, instead going right past the shades with hardly a second glance. After a little while, they came across a murky brown river, with sludge-like water that made Hawkpaw want to gag. Blackstar turned when they hit the river, and when they reached a particularly large bush, turned to a tree with several old claw marks etched into the wood.

“Can you climb?” Blackstar asked, turning to him. Hawkpaw blinked at the question, caught off guard. “The Dark Forest cats stay on the ground; they won’t think to search for us in the canopy.”

“Of course I can climb,” Hawkpaw replied, a little affronted at that. “What kind of apprentice would I be if I couldn’t?”

Blackstar muttered something under his breath about thunder and annoyances before leaping up to the nearest branch, using the trunk as a pawhold to help boost him up since it was a little ways off the ground. As he continued to climb, Hawkpaw made his own ascent, easily keeping up with Blackstar’s practiced leaps. 

They climbed for longer than Hawkpaw ever had before. It was like the trees in the Dark Forest went on forever! The trunk hardly narrowed as he leapt from branch to branch, and even as the ground below him was slowly obscured by branches, Blackstar showed little sign of stopping. If Hawkpaw wasn’t a Skyclan cat, fully confident in his climbing abilities and sure he was dreaming, he would have been terrified.

Finally, Blackstar slowed, and Hawkpaw took a couple deep breaths as he shook out his muscles, which were beginning to ache. Leaping up onto one last branch, Blackstar paused. Looking up, Hawkpaw caught sight of a black pelt, hardly visible against the pitch-black sky save for a pair of jade-green eyes. 

“Another one?” The cat asked. On closer inspection Hawkpaw realized she was female, and a sense of disinterest and mild curiosity spiked off her pelt. Her jade eyes fell on Hawkpaw, and he suddenly felt as if he was being stripped bare under her gaze.

“Yes. This is Hawkpaw.” Blackstar’s eyes flickered around the branches surrounding them. “Where is Ashfur?”

“Somewhere,” the she-cat drawled, not at all concerned. She licked her paw and drew it over her ear. “You know I could care less.”

“Yes, I do,” Blackstar muttered to himself. “Anyways, Hawkpaw, this is Hollyleaf. She is one of the only cats you can trust in this place.”

“Well, trust is a strong word,” Hollyleaf huffed, watching him closely. “Don’t be optimistic, this is the Dark Forest we’re talking about.” She leaned forwards, as if to take him in even further. Hawkpaw resisted flinching under her gaze. “So who are you? Some recruit who’s actually listened to the elders’ stories?”

“Recruit?” Hawkpaw echoed. 

“He ended up here by accident,” Blackstar cut in for him. “It happens from time to time.”

“There still has to be a reason,” Hollyleaf scoffed.

“Well I have my reasons.” Blackstar flicked an ear dismissively. “I think he’s the one. The one Starclan told me about.”

The she-cat paused, claws unsheathing and digging into the wood as a burst of anger flashed off her pelt, followed by frustration and finally a festering tiredness that surprised him to see come from a cat like her.

“What are you talking about?” Hawkpaw asked, confused. He wasn’t getting the answers he wanted from either of them, and it was starting to grate on him. Blackstar and Hollyleaf may not have the worst of intentions, if only according to their emotions, but they were having an entire conversation about him without him knowing the basics of what they were talking about. “I thought Starclan didn’t have any reach here.”

Blackstar gave him a look, outwardly unimpressed while confusion flickering underneath his emotionless eyes. “Which clan are you from? I’m still alive, kit. Starclan is fully capable of contacting me if they so wish.”

Hawkpaw looked at him and shrugged. “I’m from Skyclan. Where are you from?”

“That’s not a clan.” Hollyleaf interjected, skepticism dripping from her voice.

“Yeah, it is. Skyclan was the fifth clan who was driven out of the forest generations ago. We ended up having to disband, and Firestar and Sandstorm helped reform us when Starclan decided we needed to return. Everyone knows the story; don’t you?”

“No,” Blackstar replied, thoughtful. Hollyleaf rolled her eyes.

“Leave it to Firestar to keep unnecessary secrets,” she hummed. “Explains how you’re so clueless, at least. You really think it’s him, Blackstar?”

“Who else could it be? It’s painfully obvious that Lionblaze and Dovepaw are the other two in the prophecy. The prophecy specifically mentions a hawk, and here—” his tail flickered towards Hawkpaw. “Is the only living cat that we know of that has that prefix.”

“Prophecy?!” Hawkpaw exclaimed, eyes going wide. 

“I recently received a prophecy that Hollyleaf has been helping me decipher,” Blackstar responded. “There has been much debate as to its meaning. It goes as this: After the sharp-eyed Dove and the roaring Lion, hope will come on Hawk’s heavy wings. I’m sure you can understand why I think the prophecy is speaking of you.”

A prophecy? Another prophecy? If Hawkpaw could just find his way to Starclan, he’d give Jayfeather a piece of his mind for not giving him a moment’s rest. Now he wasn’t even free in his own dreams!

“Who are Lionblaze and Dovepaw?” Is what he ended up asking, however. The names were completely unfamiliar to him.

“Lionblaze was my brother,” Hollyleaf said shortly. A mixture of emotions swirled underneath her pelt at the mention of his name, dominated by a sense of anger, betrayal, and shame. “He is likely the best fighter to ever exist in the clans.”

“Lionblaze is the deputy of Thunderclan now,” Blackstar added, eyes flickering over at Hollyleaf as he spoke. “Dovepaw is his apprentice. She’s due to become a warrior soon, I think, but I don’t see anything special about her.”

“Of course she’s Thunderclan,” Hollyleaf hummed, something akin to but not quite pride sparking off of her as she shoved off the other emotions. Blackstar sent her a low look. “What? Did you think Shadowclan would actually be worthy enough to host one of the three?”

Embers of anger flecked off Blackstar’s pelt, but he said nothing in response to the provocation. 

“Why are you helping me, anyways?” Hawkpaw asked, sending Hollyleaf a look. “And not with the other cats in the Dark Forest?”

Hollyleaf’s eyes narrowed as a mish-mash of emotions Hawkpaw couldn’t identify swirled beneath her pelt. “Please. Just because I didn’t end up in Starclan doesn’t mean that I want the clans dead. Sure, having Firestar, Squirrelflight, and Leafpool kick the bucket would be a pleasure to watch, but Thunderclan does not deserve to die off just because several cats are taking them off the right path.”

She wanted Firestar dead? Hawkpaw wanted to protest that, but then reminded himself that this was the Dark Forest, where the bad cats ended up when they died. Hollyleaf was just a different kind of bad, someone who found it in her best interest to ally herself with Blackstar, and, by extension, him.

“Well, if this prophecy or whatever talks about me and these other two cats,” he finally mewed, changing the subject. “What exactly is it asking me to do?”

“Now that is the question to ask,” Blackstar remarked. “You are to bring hope, Hawkpaw. In what form or even how, I have no idea.”

“He doesn’t even live anywhere near the four clans,” Hollyleaf remarked. “Unless you want to send some random cats on another sun-drown-place journey, we’ll only be able to meet in the Dark Forest. And as much as I enjoy your presence, I doubt this’ll be happening too often.”

Blackstar shrugged. “Leave it to Starclan to be as vague as possible. I don’t think there’s much else to be done.”

“There is another prophecy,” Hawkpaw blurted. The other two cats turned to him in mild surprise, and he ducked his head. “It was, uh, given to me. Maybe they’re connected?”

“Really?” Hollyleaf mused. “Now that’s rare. What does it say?”

“ There will be three, kin of your kin, with the power of the stars in their paws. Poison will spread, and the sky will flee. Star and dark shall fall in the river’s path,” Hawkpaw recited easily, the memory of receiving the prophecy clear as the night he’d dreamed it. “We think the ‘poison’ refers to Cyanide, a rogue group we’re at war with. The ‘sky’ refers to Skyclan, but I’m not too sure about the last bit of the prophecy. But if this was given to me and the other prophecy is about me, then maybe…?”

“Maybe,” Blackstar repeated, looking thoughtful. “The sky will flee… but Hope will come with Hawk.. Hmm.”

There was a tugging in Hawkpaw’s gut, a sensation that had become fairly familiar by now, and he sighed. “I have to go. I’m getting woken up.”

Blackstar hummed. “No matter. We’ll think about this development, kit. If you end up here again, come to this tree, and don’t talk to anyone besides the two of us and Ashfur, whether you know them or not.”

Hawkpaw opened his mouth to ask how he would meet anyone he knew here, or who exactly Ashfur even was, but then his vision blurred, and everything faded to black.

“Hawkpaw! Wake up!”

Hawkpaw’s eyes snapped open as a paw prodded into his side. Groaning, he twitched away from the prodding, drawing a paw over his face as he tried to adjust his eyes to the morning light that was filtering through the apprentice’s den’s opening. As his vision sharpened, he stood up, catching sight of Featherpaw looking down at him. Her ears were flat with worry, and the sentiment was echoed with a deep churning of the same emotion pooling around her.

“Featherpaw, what’s wrong?” he asked, still adjusting from the emptiness of the Dark Forest to the onslaught of sensations in camp.

“Flightpaw was kidnapped on the dawn patrol,” Featherpaw burst, hurrying over to where Bellapaw was curled in her own nest. “Come on; Leafstar wants everyone awake to help look for her.”

Jolts of terror flashed through the two littermates’ pelts, and Rileypaw immediately jolted awake, almost crashing into Featherpaw.

“What?!” Ashenpaw exclaimed disbelievingly, shaking the sleep from her eyes. “But… but she was just here last night… I…” 

Owlpaw drew his tail along Ashenpaw’s back. “I’m sure Leafstar will make sure we find her. C’mon, we gotta go help.”

Ashenpaw nodded numbly, hurrying to follow Owlpaw as he dashed out of the den, and Hawkpaw followed after her, Featherpaw on his heels.

Skyclan’s camp was already in an uproar. As he looked up at the camp, he caught sight of Sparrowpelt, Waspwhisker, and Rockshade talking urgently by the fresh-kill pile, while Clovertail and Mintfur were focused on comforting a distraught Sagenose and Plumwillow. Owlpaw went straight for his parents, but Ashenpaw hesitated, looking about the camp again. 

“Where’s Leafstar?” she asked.

“There’s Nettlesplash!” Featherpaw exclaimed, tilting her nose to where Firepaw’s mentor was sitting near Leafstar’s den. “He’ll know.”

“I’m going to find Barley,” Bellapaw said, catching sight of the older tom sitting with Brackenfall and Patchfoot. Hawkpaw nodded, and she and Rileypaw went down to meet their uncle. Ashenpaw leaped up to the leader’s den shortly after they left, and Featherpaw and Hawkpaw followed her up the side of the gorge. 

“Nettlesplash!” Ashenpaw called, catching the older warriors’ attention. “Where’s my sister?!”

Nettlesplash didn’t meet Ashenpaw’s eyes as Hawkpaw and Featherpaw caught up to her. 

“I don’t know,” he confessed, worry swirling around him. He glanced over to the entrance of Leafstar’s den. “Leafstar’s talking to Firepaw and Honeytail right now. Firepaw seemed fine for someone who just ran into the rogues, but he and Honeytail seem pretty shaken up about this. I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t, either.” He ducked his head, licking his chest fur as if to wash the swirling emotions off of his pelt. It didn’t make much of a difference. “You can wait with me if you want.”

Ashenpaw nodded firmly, and Hawkpaw sent his friend a soothing look, just as determined to stay as he and Featherpaw sat down. Ashenpaw, on the other paw, stayed standing, pacing nervously from side to side as they waited for the three cats to emerge. 

There was a call from the top of the gorge, and Hawkpaw looked up to see the daylight warriors walking down to camp. Billystorm and Ebonyclaw had taken the lead, with Lakestream and Harveymoon behind them. A minute or so after the warriors came into sight, Hollyfrost and Macgyver crested the top of the gorge.

“Is Hollyfrost walking oddly to you?” Featherpaw asked after a moment, squinting as if to get a better look at the far-off tom.

“Yeah, I guess,” Hawkpaw agreed. Hollyfrost was leaning on Macgyver rather oddly, now that he thought about it, and there was an odd discoloration on Harveymoon’s pelt, a smudge of darkness on his usually pristine white fur. 

“Where’s Leafstar?!” Billystorm’s voice carried over the edge of the gorge, loud and desperate. “And someone fetch Echosong and Tawnypaw! We have injured!”

Nettlesplash scrambled to his feet, caught off guard, and Hawkpaw’s ears drew back in surprise. 

“Injured?” Ashenpaw breathed. “Was it the rogues?”

“Impossible,” Nettlesplash replied. “They’re on the other side of the territory, not to mention the only place out there is the Twolegplace…” He raised his voice, calling out to the daylight warriors. “Billystorm! She’s in her den!” The ginger and white warrior rushed over to them, leaving Ebonyclaw and Macgyver to help Hollyfrost and Harveymoon to the medicine den. Ashenpaw and Hawkpaw shared frightened looks as the senior warrior approached.

“What’s going on?” Billystorm asked when he arrived, noting the three apprentices and the previous commotion in camp. Before they could answer, Leafstar ducked out of her den, Nettlesplash on her heels. “Leafstar?”

“Oh, I am glad to see you,” Hawkpaw’s mentor murmured, worry, fear, and a trace of anger slowly fading to relief as she locked eyes with her mate. Brushing her muzzle along his cheek, she continued: “Come in, tell me what happened. I need your advice.” Her gaze flickered over to Hawkpaw and the other apprentices. “Oh, good. Hawkpaw, take your brother to Echosong; he seems to be in a bit of a shock. Honeytail, go tell Sparrowpelt to take a patrol to the border, and confront Cyanide if you can find them. Bring only seasoned warriors with you. Nettlesplash, take Ashenpaw and make sure she stays with her parents. And Featherpaw, we need to send out a hunting patrol. Go get Rockshade and ask him to lead… Sandyclaw, Bellapaw, and Stormheart to the plains above the gorge.”

“Yes, Leafstar,” the group chorused—that was, except for Ashenpaw, who sent a betrayed look to her leader.

“But I can’t just sit around while Flightpaw is missing!” she protested, flattening her ears. Billystorm, however, was the one who answered her, licking the top of his apprentice’s head comfortingly.

“If Flightpaw was taken alive,” he murmured soothingly, just as Honeytail slipped out of the den and raced off to find Sparrowpelt. “There is very little reason for her to be harmed now. Rest assured that the best warriors in the clan are working on this issue right now. I think you would be of best use helping Owlpaw and your parents; I’m sure they’re worried sick.”

Ashenpaw frowned deeper, but when neither her mentor nor Leafstar backed down on their word, turned tail and leaped down to where her family was, betrayal and frustration leaking off her pelt like a trail as she went. A moment later, Nettlesplash followed her down, while Featherpaw went off calling for Rockshade, and Firepaw was trotting over to Hawkpaw, looking as if he hardly was registering what he was doing. 

“How are you doing?” Hawkpaw asked worriedly, brushing his tail against Firepaw’s flank. The light ginger tom simply shrugged. 

“I guess I better see Echosong,” He muttered instead of answering. When Hawkpaw didn’t respond immediately, he turned back to him, blue eyes unflinching. “What?”

“It isn’t your fault, you know,” Hawkpaw finally said as they jumped down to the medicine den. “No one blames you.”

Firepaw was silent for a long moment.

“Of course they don’t,” he finally muttered, a deep longing and disappointment seared into his fur. “But I wish they would.”

Hawkpaw opened his mouth to question the odd response, but then Birdwing was rushing over to them, pelt ruffled and eyes wide with fear. 

“Where’s Hollyfrost?” she exclaimed. “Juniperpelt said he saw him come into camp injured!”

“I think he went to see Echosong,” Hawkpaw replied. “I don’t know much more than that. I gotta take Firepaw to her too, so I’ll make sure he knows you’re looking for him. Maybe put in a good word?”

Birdwing drew a paw over her ear, embarrassed. “Shut up, Hawkpaw.”

Laughing briefly to himself, Hawkpaw led Firepaw the short distance to the medicine den. Several cats were already crowded around the entrance. Ebonyclaw was the closest, sitting right next to the opening of the cave nervously. Now that she was closer, Hawkpaw could see that she sported several shallow scratches on her right shoulder.

“Hey, Ebonyclaw,” Hawkpaw greeted her cautiously. “Are you alright? You should probably make sure those scratches don’t get infected.”

“Oh, this is nothing,” Ebonyclaw muttered. “Hollyfrost and Harveymoon were worse.”

“What happened?” Firepaw asked. He didn’t sound as worried as he usually would be, and both Ebonyclaw and Hawkpaw sent him an odd look.

“It was some rogue dogs,” Ebonyclaw hissed anyways, anger flaring. “Quite a few of them, maybe a pack. They must be new to the area, because they ambushed us out of nowhere. We gave them a good tail-whipping, but Harveymoon and Hollyfrost were the ones to take the brunt of the attack.”

Hawkpaw blinked, worried. An attack on the daylight warriors like this had never happened before, and they took the same route to and from the clan every day. Would this become a regular occurence, and if so, how could the daylight warriors be safe traveling to the clan?

“Should we really visit Echosong right now if she’s busy?” Firepaw asked. Hawkpaw nodded.

“You can at least rest. And I have to tell Hollyfrost Birdwing is waiting for him, anyways.” Firepaw sighed, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before following Hawkpaw into the medicine den.

Almost immediately, the copper-laced scent of blood permeated the air. The den was already fairly crowded, with Macygver, Harveymoon, and Hollyfrost joining the usual three inhabitants of the den. Hollyfrost had already taken a nest, and though Echosong was hunched over the warrior, he could just see a long gash along his back leg, drenched in blood. Harveymoon wasn’t as bad off, sporting only several deep cuts along his right flank.

“Hawkpaw? Why—oh, Firepaw, there you are!” The two littermates turned to see Tawnypaw rushing over to them, looking quite frazzled yet somehow in control of her situation, stepping easily around the other cat. “I’m so glad you’re here. The three of us’ll have to talk about all of this, but with the daylight warriors—” She cut herself off, ducking past Echosong and Ravenpaw (who was somehow sleeping through all of this) to the herb store and shifting through a couple piles of dried leaves, picking up several in her mouth and going back to them. “Nettlesplash dropped by and said he thought you were going into shock, Firepaw. Here, take this.” She dropped the leaves on the ground. “Chamomile and thyme. It’ll help you calm down. Bed rest in the apprentice’s den for the rest of the day. Echosong’s orders. We’d have you stay here, but…” she gestured to the chaos of the den. “Not good conditions for shock. We’ll talk later. Hawkpaw, can you take him to the den? Maybe stay for a little bit?”

“I… am calm…” Firepaw murmured, looking a bit overwhelmed. 

“No, you only think you are,” Tawnypaw responded, gently but firmly. “Who’s the medicine cat here? Now eat.”

“Medicine cat apprentice,” Hawkpaw teased as Firepaw reluctantly lapped up the herbs, making a face as he did so. Before the tortoiseshell could snark back, the tabby pressed on. “And yeah, I’ll watch him. Mind telling Hollyfrost Birdwing’s waiting to visit him? She’s scared out of her fur for him.”

“Oh, definitely.” Tawnypaw purred. “Their relationship is so cute, isn’t it? But you have to go. I need to get back to helping Echosong. You’ll be okay, Firepaw. Stay safe, both of you!”

“Bye!” Hawkpaw called. Tawnypaw flashed him a smile before turning in a flash of white, ginger, and brown fur to see Harveymoon. He and Firepaw stepped out of the den, and as he gave a reassuring smile to Ebonyclaw, Hawkpaw couldn’t help but think of his own nest longingly.

He was exhausted. Now that his duties were less urgent, it came crashing over him like a wave, making his knees buckle. Odd, because although he’d slept the whole night through, he felt as though he’d climbed that tree in the Dark Forest in the waking world.

Chapter Text

When the dream took shape, Tawnypaw found herself standing at the base of a large pile of rocks, much larger than the walls of the gorge she had grown up in. Above her, the half moon cast its rays down upon her, lighting the world in a dull silver-gray glow. And before her was the gaping maw of a cave, tendrils of darkness seeping out until they met moonlight.

Tawnypaw frowned, confused. Usually, when she and Echosong made their half moon visit to the Whispering Cave, she was at her mentor’s side, often with a Starclan cat waiting to guide them to solve their most pressing issues in the clan. Now, though, when they were the most desperate for guidance, she found herself here, in a place she had never been before, with not a cat in sight.

“It’s pretty tonight, isn’t it?”

Scratch that last part. Tawnypaw whipped around, heart leaping into her throat and claws unsheathing as she caught sight of a light brown tom padding towards her, stars spotting his pelt. He tilted his head at her actions, and Tawnypaw forced herself to relax as he approached, dipping her head in greeting to the Starclan cat.

“Who are you?” She asked. “Where am I?”

“I am Mudfur, an old medicine cat,” the tom replied amiably, halting next to her. “You’re Tawnypaw, aren’t you? Jayfeather’s spoken a lot about you.”

“He has?” Tawnypaw asked, surprised. Neither she, Echosong, nor Hawkpaw had heard anything about the strange cat since his mysterious appearance right before Sharpclaw’s death. 

“Of course. It’s his job to watch over your brother, and you’ve woven yourself quite firmly into his destiny.” Mudfur chuckled. “You’re too much like your mother, he says. Determined to get to the bottom of everything.”

Tawnypaw drew a paw over her ear, embarrassed. 

“Where are we?” she repeated after a moment, noting that her second question had yet to be answered. 

“You would not have heard of this place,” Mudfur shrugged. “But I grew up calling this place Mothermouth. Those mountains up there are Highstones.”

“You’re not a Skyclan cat, are you?” Tawnypaw asked, realizing what he was suggesting. 

“No. Skyclan was both before and after my time, I’m afraid. I was born and raised in Riverclan.”

“This is where the other clans live?” Tawnypaw asked, looking behind her to try and find  signs of inhabitation, but found only the light of a large Twolegplace off in the distance behind them. Mudfur was shaking his head when she returned his gaze to him.

“No,” he said quietly. “But Barley will know this place. You and he must come here, and discover what you need to do to defeat Darktail and the other threats Skyclan faces.”

“Barley?” Tawnypaw echoed. The elderly tom had stayed with the clan for the last three moons in the elder’s den as Ravenpaw’s health had deteriorated. Now that the former Thunderclan apprentice was only days away from death, she had assumed he’d want to stay in the clan with his niece and nephew, much less take an arduous journey to some far-off monument.

“Skyclan’s answers will be found at Highstones,” Mudfur repeated, looking at her with a star-studded gaze. “You must come if your clan is to survive the war that is to come.”

“Wait, survive?!” Tawnypaw exclaimed. Skyclan’s existence was in danger? Cyanide was that dangerous?

“Skyclan has grown the roots it needs to survive. Now it must harken back to the days of old, and return the third to its rightful place alongside the other two to save the clans.”

Before she could ask just what he meant by that, the world faded into black, and Tawnypaw woke up.

Tawnypaw’s eyes blinked open, the ache of her muscles and the dripping of the Whispering Cave alerting her to her presence in the waking world. Slowly, she stretched so as to not aggravate the new aches in her limbs from sleeping in such a damp place. As she stood, the events of her dream came back into her mind, and she moved quicker, bounding over to Echosong as she slowly woke as well.

“Sleep well?”

Tawnypaw looked up to see Juniperpelt sitting a couple fox-lengths away from them, the newest warrior in the clan now that Hollyfrost was on bedrest, grooming himself as the first rays of dawn peeked through the opening of the cave, causing the wet moss to glow silver. 

“Like a kit,” she replied happily as Echosong sat up with a grunt, elated that she had experienced such an important dream. She had to go on a quest to save Skyclan! Like Firestar!

“Did you dream? I didn’t see you in mine,” Echosong commented, rising to her feet. Tawnypaw nodded energetically. “Well, I suppose you won’t tell me about it? You can go on ahead, Juniperpelt. Don’t fall in the river.”

“Rude,” the cream tom quipped, flicking his tail to show he meant no harm. With a well-timed jump, he was off and out of the cave with ease.

Hurriedly, Tawnypaw relayed the contents of her dream to Echosong, doing her best to recall what Highstones and Mothermouth looked like, as well as the odd directives Mudfur had given her. Echosong’s tail twitched as she got to the point when Mudfur had told her to journey to the place in her dream, looking slightly torn.

“What did you dream about?” She asked once she had finished. Echosong hesitated a moment before answering her.

“I spoke with Fawnstep and Rainfur,” she said. “They warned me that a dark threat is preying on our apprentices and young warriors, and that “the three,” whoever that refers to, must be reunited. It seems our dreams were connected on that topic.”

Tawnypaw frowned. “The three? But the only special cat we know about is Hawkpaw, and we haven’t heard of any other cats having powers like his.”

“And yet the prophecy does specifically denote there being three cats with the power of the stars in their paws,” Echosong mused. “But it’s odd. Skyclan is so young; there hasn’t been time for large extended families to form. Sparrowpelt doesn’t have a mate, as much as he and Tinycloud dance around each other, and Brambleclaw has no other family in the clan. That would leave… hm.”

“Leave what?” Tawnypaw asked, blinking. 

“Brambleclaw has family outside of the clan, I think, but they live very far away. If you want to know more, I suggest you ask him about it. I will certainly have to.”

Tawnypaw blinked at that. She’d never given her father’s kin outside of them much thought before, not like Featherpaw had earlier in their apprenticeship. She realized, quite suddenly, that he would have had a mother and father like she did, and most likely littermates. Idly, she wondered what had happened to them. Juniperpelt and Brackenfall had stuck together as loners, but from what she’d heard, rogue cats living with their parents into adulthood like that was quite unusual.

“We’ll need to talk to Leafstar about this,” Echosong hummed, interrupting her thoughts. “Especially if Starclan so desperately wants you to go to this Highstones place. With the medicine den so full, I don’t even know if I can spare you.”

“But I have to go if Starclan needs me to!” Tawnypaw protested. Echosong merely flicked an ear, beginning to walk out of the cave. 

“We’ll see,” she replied vaguely as Tawnypaw hurried to catch up to her without slipping on the moss-covered rocks. “Perhaps we can speak with Brambleclaw as well. If anyone would know who Mudfur is, it’d be him.”

Tawnypaw pushed aside the questions that comment spawned, squinting her eyes against the glare as they left the Whispering Cave. Above them, the gorge was just beginning to come to life in the light of the rising sun. The daylight warriors (who had stayed overnight to avoid facing the dogs again with decreased numbers) were largely already awake—Tawnypaw could see Billystorm grooming Leafstar by the leader’s den, and Ebonyclaw and Macgyver were speaking near the warrior’s den. She couldn’t see Brambleclaw, but Firepaw and Hawkpaw were sunning themselves near the apprentice’s den, so that was a bit of a relief. After Sparrowpelt’s patrol had returned last night, having seen neither head nor tail of the rogue group, she’d worried that her brother would feel guilty. At least his shock had seemed to die down.

“Echosong!” There was a distressed call, and Tawnypaw turned to see Barley hurrying over to them. His ears were flat and he seemed to emit a desperate sense of grief. He slowed as Echosong rushed to meet him by the river. “It’s time. Brambleclaw’s with him now, but he doesn’t have long.”

Ravenpaw. Tawnypaw’s breath shuttered in her lungs. The tom’s presence in the medicine den had become a staple part of her life. She’d known—everyone had—that nothing shy of a miracle would let him recover from the mysterious sickness that was plaguing him, but the thought of him actually leaving—or dying? She found it nearly impossible to comprehend. 

“Tawnypaw.” Her mentor’s voice, calm with a sense of resigned acceptance, jerked the tortoiseshell out of her thoughts. “Come. We have to make sure he’s not in pain.”

“Y-yes, Echosong,” Tawnypaw replied with a dip of her head, trying to still the shake in her paws as they rushed over to the medicine den, Echosong taking the lead. They were there in ten heartbeats flat, ducking into the entrance of the den.

Harveymoon and Hollyfrost, who’d been required to stay overnight due to their wounds, had already been awakened by the commotion, and Tawnypaw glimpsed them watching them come in with wide eyes. But she paid them little attention, instead turning her gaze to Ravenpaw’s nest, which was next to hers. The lithe black tom was easily dwarfed by her father’s larger size, as he had situated himself next to his old friend as he struggled to breathe, grooming him gently.

Echosong picked up some coltsfoot from their rapidly dwindling stores, along with one of the few poppy seeds left from the meager amount Tawnypaw had been able to find a couple days ago. As Brambleclaw moved to allow Barley to take his place, Echosong fed him the seeds, which Ravenpaw lapped up weakly.

Tawnypaw watched the three, paws itching to do something—anything! But her mind was frustratingly blank. All of her teachings so far were about healing with the intent to make someone better, not to comfort them in their final moments. Instead, she situated herself closer to her father, trying to stay out of Echosong’s way.

"It's okay, Ravenpaw," Barely murmured quietly, tail trailing along his old friend's spine. "We'll be alright."

Ravenpaw's eyes flickered open for a moment, clearer than they had been for days. He locked eyes with Barley, then Brambleclaw. He nodded slowly at the brown tabby, and Brambleclaw's shoulders sagged, as if something important had passed between them.

Then Ravenpaw's eyes fluttered closed. One breath rattled his body, then two, and then…

Nothing.

It was over.

Echosong looked away as Barley stifled a small sob. Brambleclaw let out a long breath, drawing himself up and turning to Tawnypaw to brush his muzzle against hers in a motion of comfort. Tawnypaw simply watched, somehow feeling detached from it all, as Echosong delicately placed some sprigs of lavender along Ravenpaw’s pelt, murmuring softly to Barley as she did so.

“Let’s go, Tawnypaw," Brambleclaw said quietly, voice thick with grief. "We need to fetch Bellapaw and Rileypaw, and tell Leafstar and Sparrowpelt what's happened."

"Yeah, I guess," Tawnypaw said, forcibly tearing her eyes away from Barley and briefly borrowing her face in her father's flank as if she was a kit again, breathing in his scent and finding a small sense of comfort in his presence. 

What was she going to say to Rileypaw and Bellapaw? The two apprentices looked up to Ravenpaw like a father or grandfather. They only recently had seemed to understand that his sickness was a terminal one.

Brambleclaw led the way out of the medicine den, and Tawnypaw trailed behind him, heart thundering in her chest. 

She didn't like this part of being a medicine cat at all.

The day passed slowly, yet agonizingly fast, after that. She told Bellapaw and Rileypaw the news, and quietly endured the grief from them both as the reality that one of their parental figures was dead crashed down on them. Rileypaw was particularly angry, and Barley had to take the apprentice aside and talk to him so he didn't attack the medicine cats for "not doing their job." As sunhigh came and went, the elders, working with Echosong to prepare the body, placed Ravenpaw's body near the Rockpile. Tawnypaw went out with Juniperpelt and Plumwillow to hunt for herbs that afternoon, in an effort to avoid having to look. 

Mudfur's words still tingled in the back of her mind, however. And it seemed the half-moon dreams had not left Echosong's mind, either, as at sundown she called Tawnypaw and Hawkpaw over to the leader's den.

Tawnypaw ducked around the undergrowth covering the entrance of Leafstar's den behind Echosong, Hawkpaw on her heels. Letting her eyes adjust to the dimness of the den, she was mildly surprised to see Barley and Brambleclaw there as well as Leafstar and Sparrowpelt, all of them sitting near the back of the small cave.

"Why do you want to talk to us?" Hawkpaw asked, looking rather confused at the meeting. "Is this about my powers?"

Barley blinked, sharing a look with Brambleclaw, who simply flicked an ear in a way that conveyed dissatisfaction. It was easy for Tawnypaw to see that they had only been invited after a long discussion, and she had a gnawing feeling in her belly that it was because of the dream Mudfur had given her. She couldn’t help how her paws sang at the thought. Despite how bad today had been, the idea of going on a quest to save the clan was still as invigorating as ever, and a welcome solution to the troubles the clan was facing.

"In a way," Leafstar admitted, motioning for the two littermates to sit as she herself stood to address them. "Tawnypaw and Echosong both had very important prophetic dreams in the Whispering Cave last night, and after a long discussion, we have decided to follow Starclan's wishes."

"I'm going to Highstones?!" Tawnypaw burst, excitement singing through her veins. Echosong shot her a look as Hawkpaw tilted his head in confusion. 

"What's Highstones?" He asked. "Why do you need to go there?"

"Highstones is a very important place from the Skyclan and the other four clans' original territory, and very close to where Barley lives," Brambleclaw spoke up. Tawnypaw's eyes flickered over to her father in surprise. The old territory of the other clans? Had her father been there before? "It houses the Moonstone, which was our version of the Whispering Cave. If Starclan wants you to go there, it is for a very good reason."

"How far away is it?"

Brambleclaw shifted, looking uncomfortable. "It depends. When Seedtail, Cherrytail and I came to Skyclan, we were intercepted by Darktail and had to go around them and through the Twolegplace. The travel time from the original territory to here was perhaps a moon."

"It took Ravenpaw and I, with the kits, half a moon to walk here," Barley put in quietly. 

"When Firestar came," Sparrowpelt said. "He said it took him and Sandstorm a little less than that. But they were two warriors at the peak of their health, and Darktail hadn't arrived with Cyanide yet. Leafstar, Brambleclaw, and I have discussed this in length, and we've decided that you'll be taking the long way, the one Brambleclaw and his companions took through the twolegplace."

A moon? Tawnypaw let out a breath, some of the initial excitement ebbing away at the thought. That was a long time to be gone, and it would set her back on her training significantly. She was already facing a long apprenticeship thanks to being a medicine cat, did she want to extend that even further?

"So am I going on this trip?" Hawkpaw asked after a moment of silence. Leafstar shook her head.

"Not if I can help it. Your powers make you valuable, Hawkpaw, and we can't afford to risk your safety and set you back so significantly on your training. You're here because Echosong and Tawnypaw's dreams may have indirectly mentioned you. But we'll get to that in a moment. Sparrowpelt?"

"We've decided who to send on this patrol with you," the Skyclan deputy picked up where she left off. "Barley, as Mudfur requested, will guide you to Highstones."

"I would have returned home moons ago if circumstances had permitted," said tom put in. "As good as you all have been to me, I'm not a clan cat at heart. I will be staying at Highstones as a loner once we arrive.” 

Hawkpaw shifted, looking conflicted, while Tawnypaw nodded sympathetically. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Ravenpaw and Barley had always spoken of the “barn” they called home fondly. Her heart panged as she realized that the former had never gotten the chance to return home.

“Juniperpelt will also be on the patrol,” Sparrowpelt continued. “Since he grew up a rogue, his skills with traveling and living without a clan will be invaluable. Seedtail will be acting as a secondary guide, and Waspwhisker will be the senior warrior leading the patrol.”

“While you’re gone, Tawnypaw,” Echosong added. "Juniperpelt will serve as a mentor of sorts. He'll teach you how to hunt and be able to provide for yourself if something happens during the journey.”

Tawnypaw took in a long breath, and nodded. Juniperpelt was alright to hang around, she supposed, and she probably would need to hunt for herself. Echosong had only given her a couple battle lessons so far; hunting had been postponed in the chaos of the last moon.

“We’ll expect this journey to take at least two moons,” Leafstar finished. “You’ll leave in a few days, once we speak to Juniperpelt, Seedtail, and Waspwhisker. If Starclan believes the survival of our clan lies at the Moonstone, then we expect you to act as a full medicine cat would. Do you understand? This is a very important mission.” 

“Yes, Leafstar,” Tawnypaw answered, bowing her head even as her tail trembled with anticipation. She was going to see the old territories, the ones she had only heard about in stories!

“I’ll miss you,” Hawkpaw said quietly, drawing Tawnypaw’s attention back to her brother. The brown tabby looked rather worried but also excited for her, which Tawnypaw could understand. She would have to leave the company of the clan and her family during the journey. But Seedtail was practically an aunt to her, and Juniperpelt was usually fun to hang around, so it wouldn’t be too bad. And Hawkpaw would have the whole clan to protect him! He’d be fine.

“I just hope I won’t miss your warrior ceremony,” she elected to respond, winking at him. Hawkpaw flicked an ear in embarrassment as his eyes darted towards Leafstar. 

“It would be close,” Brambleclaw agreed, speaking up for the first time. Unlike Leafstar, Sparrowpelt, and Echosong’s cautious optimism, he seemed less thrilled about this whole idea. “Cherrytail or I’d come with you—Starclan knows I have experience with going on long journeys—but the risk is too great that we’d be recognized, either by Cyanide or a rogue who knows them. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Of course I will!” Tawnypaw hurried to reassure him. “I’m on a mission for Starclan! They’ll keep me safe.”

Something flickered in her father’s eyes, and suddenly Tawnypaw wished she had Hawkpaw’s powers. He wasn’t telling her something. As it was, she glanced towards Hawkpaw, but he had already shifted his attention back to Leafstar.

“You said this journey might concern me?” He asked, tilting his head. Leafstar nodded.

“We aren’t certain, but Brambleclaw has some information that may pertain to the other part of Tawnypaw’s dream. Can you tell us what Mudfur said again, Tawnypaw?”

Tawnypaw paused for a moment, trying to recall the conversation, then spoke.

“Skyclan has grown the roots it needs to survive. Now it must harken back to the days of old, and return the third to its rightful place alongside the other two to save the clans,” she recited. “I’m not too sure what it means, though.”

Echosong nodded, sharing a look with Leafstar.

“It doesn’t sound like a prophecy,” the medicine cat said cautiously. “It’s more a directive than anything. But the first part… Skyclan having roots is a continuing motif in the advice and prophecies Starclan gives us.”

“What does it mean?” Hawkpaw asked. 

“That we must have ‘connections’ and entrench Skyclan in its place in the gorge to survive,” came the reply. “Besides that, Mudfur is a Riverclan cat, not a Skyclan one. His appearance and the use of the word ‘clan s’ instead of ‘clan’ makes me think that the four clans may be involved in this issue in one way or another.” At this, Hawkpaw shifted. “We suspect that the other two in this prophecy may live in the other clans.”

“So far away…” Hawkpaw murmured, mulling over the information. Tawnypaw  blinked as Echosong shrugged. One Hawkpaw is more than enough, thank you very much.

“Perhaps. The three might not even pertain to you at all.”

“So to recap,” Tawnypaw mewed. “Barley will be leading a patrol with me, Waspwhisker, Juniperpelt, and Seedtail to Highstones, and there might be a threat besides that that involves more cats like Hawkpaw and the other four clans. That sounds like fun.”

“Indeed,” Leafstar chuckled, a faint, stressed sort of amusement seeping into her voice. “I think that is all. We all have a lot to think about right now, so Hawkpaw, you have the evening off, but I expect you to be on the dawn patrol with me tomorrow. Tawnypaw, I’m sure you and Echosong have more to discuss, so I’ll grant you your leave as well. Good night.”

Tawnypaw and Hawkpaw ducked their heads in unision, and Barley and Brambleclaw stood up as well as the two littermates made to leave. Letting a fresh breeze brush past her face as they exited the den, Tawnypaw grinned, pawing at the ground in a sort of elated, nervous excitement. She was going on a trip to save the clan! 

“Are you really going through with this?”

Tawnypaw paused, looking over to Hawkpaw. Her brother had a worried expression on his face, and seemed to be much less excited than she felt. Sensing he wanted to talk (again) she paused at the side of the path, letting Hawkpaw lead her to a nearby ledge.

“Why not?” She questioned, sitting down. Hawkpaw didn’t follow her lead, instead shuffling his paws nervously, as if he was resisting the impulse to pace. “Hawkpaw, you heard what we said. Mudfur said the clan was in danger!”

"You said we were going to be in this together! Now you're taking off to some far-away place, and I have no idea if you'll ever come back!"

Tawnypaw snorted, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry, Hawkpaw. Firestar and Sandstorm made the trip twice and were just fine. And remember our parents? Cherrytail got kidnapped by twolegs and got out alright. I'll have plenty of protection; don't worry."

"You didn't answer my first question."

"First off, that wasn't a question. Secondly, what do you expect me to do? Disobey Starclan and let Skyclan die off?"

Hawkpaw frowned at that but didn't reply, lashing his tail about in frustration. Tawnypaw simply rolled her eyes. 

"Tawnypaw!" The two apprentices looked up to see Echosong leaving Leafstar's den and heading to her own. "We need to redress Harveymoon and Hollyfrost's wounds."

"I'm coming!" Tawnypaw called back, moving to go before briefly turning back to her brother. "Don't worry so much. You and I'll be fine."

Not waiting for a response, she leapt onto a nearby ledge, walking along it to merge onto the path Echosong was taking. Her mentor slowed to allow her to catch up before speaking.

"You seem rather excited to go on this quest," she remarked. Tawnypaw flicked an ear, an ember of embarrassment forming in her belly.

"Well, yeah," she responded after a moment. "I have a chance to save Skyclan. Who wouldn't want to help?"

"It's a lot of pressure to put on an apprentice," Echosong said simply, sending her a motherly look. Tawnypaw tilted her head, confused. 

"What? Do you think I can't do it?"

"I don't think you understand what's being asked of you."

That didn't make any sense. "Is there something I'm missing?"

Echosong hummed, thoughtful. "Yes: experience. But that will come in time, I suppose. There isn't much else you can do to get it. You have to be prepared for this journey to be very difficult, Tawnypaw. You don't know how hard your father fought to keep you off this patrol. Adding Seedtail was our compromise."

"Really?" Tawnypaw's stomach churned at that. The thought of her own father fighting against her leaving didn't sit well with her. He’d always been so supportive in what she wanted to do, especially when she’d taken interest in becoming a medicine cat.”

"I don't blame him. If Starclan had not requested you specifically, I wouldn't have agreed either."

Before Tawnypaw could respond, they turned the corner to reach their den. Sitting in front was, surprisingly enough, Ebonyclaw and Macgyver. The former of the two noticed them first, and stood, her partner following a couple heartbeats later. 

"Ebonyclaw, Macgyver," Echosong greeted them amiably. "Congratulations. I suspect you're here for a confirmation?"

Tawnypaw blinked in surprise while Macgyver's ears lowered in embarrassment. Ebonyclaw, on the other paw, laughed out loud.

"I knew you would figure it out," she chuckled, flicking Macgyver with her tail. Her mate scoffed, batting her back with a paw. "I told you, Macgyver. The medicine cat always knows."

"What is it?" Tawnypaw questioned, glancing between them. Echosong chuckled as Ebonyclaw smiled.

"I'm expecting Macgyver's kits," the senior warrior announced, with a giddiness that was quite unlike her. "I've already gotten a confirmation from the vet, Echosong, but I did want to talk to you both."

"Of course," Echosong said as Tawnypaw congratulated the couple. "Would you mind if we stayed out here? The medicine den is a bit crowded at the moment."

"I'm fine with that," Macgyver shrugged, sitting down. Tawnypaw and the others followed suit, and he waited a moment before continuing. "As I'm sure you know, Echosong, Ebonyclaw is the first daylight warrior to expect kits. We've been a bit conflicted on how to raise them, considering we love both our Twolegs and the clan, and feel both deserve to know them."

Echosong nodded sagely. "The rogue problem has no doubt complicated the issue."

Ebonyclaw's face fell. "Yes. I'm afraid so. The attack with the dogs yesterday forced our decision, I'm sad to say. Once I'm able to return to my Twoleg nest, I'll be staying there for the rest of my pregnancy."

Tawnypaw started. "But wouldn't staying in camp be easier?" She questioned. "There's a bunch of warriors everywhere, and Echosong and I have the supplies to help you!"

Ebonyclaw shook her head, but it was Echosong who answered. 

"Twolegs have very good medicinal care, even for cats like us," she explained. "It's very rare for a cat to die while under their care. I understand where you're coming from, Ebonyclaw. I'm sure Leafstar will allow you to take the necessary leave from clan life. Do you plan to bring them to camp at all?"

Tawnypaw frowned, feeling off-put at her mentor's words. She knew that Echosong had once been a kittypet, but hearing her admit her own limitations so blatantly just didn't sit well with her. They were medicine cats! Healing was what they did, and they were good at it!

You couldn’t help Ravenpaw, some small part of her whispered. Tawnypaw pushed it away.

"Yes. Once they are well enough to travel, we'll bring them to the nursery to stay with the clan permanently." It was Macgyver who answered this time, sharing a look with his mate. "Probably when they are a moon or so old; before the Twolegs take them away. If the dogs are still around by then, however, we would need a patrol to guard us for the trip."

"I'm sure Leafstar would agree with you," Echosong agreed. "Would you mind if I visited every once in a while? Twolegs have good care, but I'd feel much better at heart if I could see you myself."

"As long as you're safe," Ebonyclaw replied, shooting her a knowing look. Echosong purred. 

"How far along are you?" Tawnypaw asked suddenly, realizing that Ebonyclaw had fought the dogs the other day alongside the other daylight warriors, while pregnant. Pregnant!

"A little less than a moon." The happiness in Ebonyclaw's voice returned again, and her tail twined slightly with Macgyver's.

"Well, I'll let you lovebirds get to sleep," Echosong chuckled. "Hollyfrost and Harveymoon should be able to go home tomorrow." Macgyver laughed as Ebonyclaw leaned down to lick her chest hairs in embarrassment. In a couple of minutes, goodbyes were exchanged, and the two were gone, heading to their temporary nests in the warriors' den.

"How did you know?" Tawnypaw asked when they were gone, following Echosong into the den. "That she's pregnant, I mean."

"I haven't taught you much about pregnancy and birth yet, have I?” Echosong mused, shaking her head. “Then again, Ebonyclaw is the newest queen since Mintfur. Here, go get some cobwebs. I'll tell you once we're done treating everyone's wounds."

Chapter Text

Star walked across camp, carrying the blackbird and mouse she'd managed to catch that day in her mouth. Cyanide's camp was up and bustling in the rising heat of late morning, several Fighters lazing about in the sun, Hunters bustling around them as the early hunt returned, laden with the prey that fed the group for most of the day. Star herself felt that she'd done very well—Flash had taken Leaflet today, so she'd been unhindered by his presence, and had been able to catch the prey currently in her jaws. She'd even helped America catch a rabbit, which Darktail had claimed as soon as they'd made it back to camp.

A thicket of tall grasses, with a small indent signaling the entrance, came into the view, and Star angled her ears as she caught the drifting scent of milk that had come to characterize this part of camp. Walking towards the den, a small muzzle of a kit peeked out from behind the grasses.

"Hey, Striker," she greeted as the gray and white kit emerged more fully, looking at the prey in her jaws.

“Hey, Star,” he replied, trotting over to her. At the last moment, he took a swipe at the blackbird, trying to claim it as his own, but Star easily ducked his claws, weaving around him with the poise of an expert. “Aw, c’mon! I’m hungry!”

“Frost eats first; you know that,” Star snapped back through the food, ducking around the grass and into the little clearing that had been flattened enough to form a small nursery. Laying in the largest nest was a cream and white queen, whose eyes flickered over to Star as she approached.

"Ah, Star," Frost said, a hint of surprise in her usual nonchalant tone. "The hunt went well today?"

"Very," the Hunter purred, dropping the mouse at the nurser's paws. "You won't have to hunt today; we had extra."

"Thank goodness," Frost huffed, sending a sharp look at her son, who was not-so-subtly eying the food. "And don't try and Challenge Star again, Striker. I'm not deaf, and I'm sure you want to eat."

"Just wait 'till I become a fighter," the kit huffed, scuffing at the ground. "I'll take anyone's food if I want to."

Frost snorted, but dismissed him as her other two kits, both daughters, ran up to them. The larger of the two, Flower, was in the lead, while the runt of the litter, Mouse, trailed slightly behind. Star purred a bit at Flower, who giggled back. 

“Here you are,” the Hunter said, dropping the food at Frost’s paws. “All yours.”

“What about you?” Flower asked as her mother took the blackbird.

“I’ve eaten already,” she shrugged as Striker went for the mouse. Flower didn’t reply as her attention instead focused on the brother that was trying to take the prey for himself. Letting out a squeal in a kitlike impression of a battle cry, she leapt-tackled him, and the two quickly rolled into a Challenge for the food. 

“Striker’s going to be quite the fighter once he’s old enough to start training,” Star remarked, sitting down next to Frost. The queen snorted, taking another bite out of her blackbird. 

“I’m counting down the days. That tom is a terror.”

“Mouse will definitely be a Hunter,” Star mused, half to herself, before turning to see said kit begin to sneak several bites of mouse while her littermates were distracted. “Yeah, that one’s a Hunter at heart. I’m not so sure about Flower, though. She could definitely go both ways.”

“She’s a Hunter,” Frost replied frankly. “Her father coddles her too much; she’s too gentle-hearted to make it as a fighter.”

“If you say so,” Star shrugged as Striker noticed Mouse eating. The tom hurriedly bucked off his sister and raced to protect “his” food, but his target was long gone by the time he nearly crashed into the two adults of the group. While he was distracted, Flower snatched up the partially eaten mouse, trampling through the grassy den walls to get away. Striker chased after her, disappearing into the grass.

“Where is Kenzie assigning that new recruit?” Frost asked once the two larger kits were off into camp. “Flight, I think her name was?”

“Flightpaw,” Star corrected. “Darktail wants to make her a fighter, but it’ll be awhile until she’ll be let out of camp. You know how these things can be.”

“Hopefully she gets that head of hers on straight,” Frost muttered. “Thorn told me about her last night; he seems to like her. Have you seen her?”

“No, but America’s got guard duty this afternoon. I was planning to visit after I saw you and the kits.”

“Well, get going before Striker comes back whining that Flower ate his food again and I have to give him the rest of mine. I have enough furballs to deal with.”

There was a slight shine of amusement in Frost’s eyes as she spoke the last sentence, so Star chuckled a bit before standing. Nodding goodbye to Mouse (hiding from Striker’s wrath behind her mother), she left the nursery and entered camp once again.

Next to the Fighter’s den, there was a large, hollowed-out old stump. After they'd moved camp to this clearing, it had been used as a sort of prison for troublesome new recruits, since they couldn’t exactly be trusted not to run away and divulge all of Cyanide’s secrets. It’s newest occupant was Flightpaw, who had generally kept out of sight over the last few days. Star didn’t blame her—it had taken Washington over a moon to actually speak to anyone back when he’d joined Cyanide—but she hoped the former Skyclan cat would snap out of it soon. Moonlight didn’t like it when recruits took a long time to come around. At the very least, she’d have to work to get Darktail on her side if she didn’t want to get punished. 

Oh, well. Whether she got punished or not, she’d come around. Everyone did.

“Coming to meet our newest addition?”

Star looked up, unimpressed, to see America leaning on a low-hanging tree branch, high enough that he could see everything Flightpaw was doing. The ginger and white she-cat shot him an unimpressed look, causing the other Hunter to laugh and jump down from his perch.

“She doesn’t talk much,” he reported as they reached each other. “Kinda boring, actually. Somehow got her ear scratched through last night, heaven knows how.”

“Thorn likes her,” Star remarked. America shrugged. 

“Well, maybe she was in a talking mood then.” He raised his voice to a low shout. “Hey, Flightpaw! Want to be social?” There was no reply, and the tom took it as a no. “See? Nothin’.”

Star stared at him incredulously. "Sometimes I forget how much of an idiot you are."

America had the decency to look abashed. "Did I do it again?"

"Oh my god. Yes." Good cat he may be, but America could be astonishingly dense at times, especially when it came to the feelings of other cats. It'd gotten him in trouble with Forest on more than one occasion, and also made him extremely insufferable when he couldn't (or wouldn't) read the atmosphere. He tried to not overlook others, at least, which was probably why she was still friends with him.

"She's like Washington, America."

"Oh." Now the black-and-white tom drew a paw over his ear, glancing to where his brother was sitting with Thorn across the clearing. "Whoops?"

Star shook her head, looking back at the tree stump and beginning to second-guess her decision. If Flightpaw was anything like Washington, she wouldn't want any visitors right now. But Star was also curious to see how she was doing, and if Darktail had started training her, or had at least spoken to her, the last day. 

"Think she'd talk to me?" She finally asked after a moment. America shrugged.

"Dunno. Like I said, she's just been feigning sleep with me, but maybe she actually did talk to Thorn. You're better with other cats than me, at least."

"That's a low bar," Star muttered. America cuffed her over the ear. 

Well, no time like the present. Bunching her muscles, Star leapt up to the edge of the tree stump, peering inside. The hollow was large enough to hold at least three or four cats, so it was a bit of a surprise to see Flightpaw pressed into the corner, curled into a ball. It took Star a moment to locate her, as her black pelt blended in with the shadows. Taking a deep breath, she leapt down into the trunk, making sure to keep a tail-length or so between them.

Flightpaw's head twitched up at her entrance, enough so that Star could catch a glimpse of her pale green eyes. For a moment, neither of them said anything, and Star realized that she hadn't exactly come in with a plan to approach her. She'd only wanted to visit her recruit.

"Hey," she finally said, wincing at how the word fluttered and fell limp in the musty confines of the den. "How are you doing? I'm sorry if America's been annoying you—he isn't that good at understanding other cats."

Flightpaw didn't immediately respond. Star had just resigned herself to getting shunned as America had when she finally spoke. 

"Why do you care?" She hissed, glaring at her with those piercing green eyes. Star blinked at the ferocity of her words. She could definitely see why Darktail wanted her as a Fighter. 

"Why wouldn't I? I recruited you; it'd be rude to not see how you were doing."

"Yeah, sure. Because kidnapping me and keeping me imprisoned is definitely a show of hospitality.”

“You’ll understand eventually,” Star replied, doing her best to give Flightpaw a reassuring smile. “I don’t know if Darktail told you, but you aren’t the first cat to go through this process. America—the tom guarding you right now—was in your place four moons ago. And look at him now! He’s a happy and productive hunter of the group.”

“And an idiot.”

Star chuckled. “Yeah, that too. But he does try, and after a while he tends to grow on you.”

Flightpaw loosened up slightly, pulling herself into a sitting position. 

“Why me?” She finally asked quietly. “Darktail said he wanted me to join you, but why?”

There was the question. Star twitched her tail before responding.

“We aren’t merciless, Flightpaw. You’re only a kit; you can’t help where you were born. We think you could be a great asset and member of Cyanide, so we decided to recruit you.”

“Without my consent.”

Star flicked an ear and sent her a knowing smile. “You’ll consent eventually, Flightpaw. Everyone does.”

Sadly, Star's work for the day was nowhere near finished, even after their successful hunt that morning. Later that afternoon, a badger was scented on their territory, a bit too close to camp for comfort. Darktail took Moonlight, Blacktop, Stone, and Link to go fight it off, which left the rest of the Fighters in camp stirring with energy, no doubt wanting to go out and deal with it themselves. 

Star, though, was spending the evening cleaning out the Fighter's den, fetching moss alongside Firefly and Wren and disposing of the musty, old nests. Firefly in particular, however, wasn't very happy about the arrangement, the young she-cat twitchy and complaining about the menial task they had to finish. However, it was a commotion outside, near the Council’s den, that drew their attention away from their chores.

“Looks like Smoke and Haven are at it again,” Wren announced, ducking back into the entrance of the Fighter’s den. Annoyance and a tired acceptance colored her tone, which was to be expected. Smoke and Haven hated each other, and always found excuses to Challenge or fight. The end result was rarely pretty. “Star, do you think you can go and calm your sister down?”

“Me?” Star echoed in surprise, rolling her eyes. “Smoke doesn’t like me at all. We may be littermates, but she surely doesn’t act like it.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Firefly muttered, rolling some old moss into a ball. “Cats like Smoke are always trouble.” She then muttered something under her breath, too soft for Star to catch.

“I suggest you hold your tongue.” Wren snapped a warning at the youngest of the three. Firefly ducked her head, but didn’t look too apologetic. 

And privately, Star had to agree with her. Ever since they were kits, Smoke had always been particularly… violent. But since Moonlight was their mother and Darktail their father, that ferocity had gotten her far as the favored kit. It had also given her an ego.

...Yeah. The less of a relationship Star had with Smoke, the better.

“I can go get Root if it’s really that bad,” she finally sighed, standing. “And I’m sure Dusk would like something to do, anyways.”

Wren shook her head while Firefly shrugged. Star stood up as she finished speaking, leaving the other two Hunters to their work and leaving the den. 

Yeah, Wren hadn’t been kidding when she said that Haven and Smoke were going at it. Haven, her usually snow-white pelt streaked with dirt and the occasional dash of blood, was pinned underneath her sister, whose black pelt gave the two she-cats a stark contrast to each other. A large blackbird lay forgotten on the ground a tail length away. Several cats were watching them with interest (Ripper in particular seemed to be taking mental notes), but no one appeared to think there was cause to interfere just yet. 

Despite herself, she paused to watch them for a moment, just as Smoke got the upper paw. She ducked underneath Haven’s forward attack, tackling her full-force in the stomach. The white she-cat hit the ground with a heavy ‘oomf,’ crying out in pain when Smoke unsheathed her claws on her unprotected belly.

Okay. Now things were serious. Smoke wasn’t showing any signs of stopping, and Haven’s movements were starting to grow weaker.

“Smoke!” Star yowled, stepping out from the crowd. Her littermate glanced up at her words, fixing her with a dark, amber-eyed glare. “That’s enough. You won.”

“You stay in your place, hunter” Smoke snapped back, digging her claws deeper into Haven’s belly, causing her to yowl. “She deserves it.”

“That’s for the Council or Darktail to decide, not you.” Star met Smoke’s gaze evenly, hoping she didn’t look as terrified as she felt. She was going to kill Wren for convincing her to intervene.

“She has a point, Smoke. Stand down.” Star started at the new voice, turning around to see Root striding towards them, disapproval in her gaze. For a heartbeat, Smoke looked like she would keep on going anyways, but finally sheathed her claws and stepped away, spitting as she went. "Haven, go get to Dusk and stop causing trouble."

 Haven winced as she stood, blood dripping down her pelt, but held her head high as she limped off to Dusk's den, hissing at Ginny when she moved to help.

Root watched her go for a moment, then gave Smoke a warning glance and Star an approving one. Without another word, she was off once again, striding over to speak with Thorn.

"Mind your own business next time, hunter," Smoke hissed, snatching up the blackbird violently. 

"Follow the Challenge’s rules next time, then," Star shot back. "No killing!"

Smoke looked like she was ready to initiate Challenge #2, but seemed to think better of it and stalked off to the opposite end of camp to eat in peace. The small crowd dispersed as she went, though Ginny walked over to Star as she sagged, thoroughly spent with confrontation for the day. Jeez. Smoke was going to remember that. 

"You did good there, Star," the elder she-cat mewed, a slight purr in her voice. "I'm proud of you. Not many Hunters would risk intervening in a Challenge like that, especially when Smoke’s initiated it." 

"Oh, I was about to faint from fear," Star replied with a shake of her head. Still, the she-cat's praise warmed her heart. "And Wren basically pressured me into it, anyways."

"Still, you did good. I'm sure Moonlight and Darktail will hear by the end of the day."

"Please. They have better things to worry about."

"If you say so," Ginny replied, then lowered her voice. "Would you mind going on a quick hunting trip with me? I need to ask a favor of you."

"...uh, sure." Ginny sent her a thankful look and nodded towards the camp entrance. Star followed her out of camp without much hesitation. Firefly and Wren could finish up the Fighter’s den without her.

Ginny seemed to know where she wanted to speak with her. They went in the direction of Skyclan’s territory, nearly opposite the way Darktail and his Fighters had gone. Soon enough the autumn-shaded trees above them turned bare, their bark burned black and gray from the fire, and the forest quieted, the distant chirps of the birds fading away as they went. 

“I don’t even know how Skyclan is surviving in this sort of forest,” Star commented, eyeing her surroundings. “They’re probably tearing each other apart like savages.”

“Yes…” Ginny said quietly, not sounding very happy at all at the thought. She stopped at the base of a large oak tree, stripped bare of its leaves. Star looked at her, concerned, but before she could voice her thoughts the ginger she-cat spoke again. “Two days ago, when you found Flightpaw. There was another cat with her, right?”

“Yeah, a tom,” Star replied, surprised. She thought of the terrified tom’s pale blue gaze, and shook her head a little to clear it. “Small, cowardly. He wasn’t worth taking, and we didn’t want to risk a fight and injure Flightpaw, so we let him go.”

“What did he look like?”

“Does it matter?”

“Please,” Ginny’s gaze was almost desperate. “What did he look like? How old was he?”

Star shifted. What was Ginny’s obsession with this tom? “He was light ginger, okay? With blue eyes. He was older than Flightpaw, maybe eight or nine moons old? Flightpaw said his name was Firepaw.”

“Oh…” And as soon as that desperation had come, it was gone. Ginny sighed, eyes flickering over to where Skyclan’s territory lay. “When I’d heard about the tom, I’d hoped, but…”

“Why?” Star questioned. “He’s Skyclan, Ginny. You know, the group we’re going to kill off?”

Ginny winced at that. “Yes, I know! Why do you think I took you out of camp?”

“Why even ask?”

The ginger she-cat glanced over at her, green eyes flickering. “Look, Star,” she sighed. “You’re one of the more reasonable youth in Cyanide. I need you to keep an open mind about what I’m asking of you. And—” She gave her a hard look. “Whether you want to help me or not, to not tell a soul.”

Star thought, considering it. On one paw, Ginny could be conspiring against her parents and the Council. If Star helped her—ancestors forbid—or didn’t report her, Cyanide would be in danger. But on the other, Ginny was a gentle soul. Her and Flash’s relationship was very healthy, and she was always watching Frost’s kits when the queen tired of their antics. What exactly did Ginny have to hide, and what could she do to harm Darktail and Moonlight of all cats?

“Fine,” she finally agreed. “But if you’re putting anyone in danger this agreement is null.”

“Oh, thank you,” Ginny breathed, blinking gratefully at her. She furtively glanced around the forest, making certain no one was around, before continuing. “You remember when Flash and I first joined Cyanide, right?”

“Yeah,” Star shrugged. They’d joined several days before America had. Ginny had been severely injured from fighting off a fox and on the verge of death. Darktail had made an agreement with Flash that, in exchange for medical care, they would join Cyanide as hunters. They’d both joined and assimilated into the Hunters without much of a hiccup, and Ginny had recovered near perfectly. 

“Then you remember the situation I was in when I joined. Flash and I were in a very desperate position. We were willing to turn to anyone for help. But, you see, joining Cyanide wasn’t the only thing we resorted to.” Star‘s ear twitched at the phrase “resorted to.” Cyanide was a fine group—not something to be “resorted to”—but she decided not to comment on it. “You see, Flash and I had just had our first litter of kits when I was attacked.”

“What?” Star questioned, taken off guard. “Kits? You’ve never mentioned them before.”

“For good reason,” Ginny said, dipping her head in shame. “I had three, and I was so injured I couldn’t give any milk. Flash was trying to care for me and hardly had enough food to feed himself and me, much less finding enough to mash it up for kits less than a moon old. He couldn’t provide for them, and they were going to die.”

“Oh, Ginny,” Star sighed. She tried to think of Frost losing all her kits like that, and couldn’t conjure such a situation. “I’m so sorry.”

Ginny sighed. “Flash was the one who figured out a way to save them. We’d both heard of Skyclan by then, but not Cyanide. While Flash was adamantly against joining himself and wanted to stay with me for what he thought were my final days, he wanted to keep them alive, and I was in no condition to protest. He left the kits by the Skyclan border, and watched to make sure they were taken by the clan.”

“You left your kits with Skyclan?!” Star exclaimed, taken completely off guard. Who would do such a thing?

“Better indoctrinated than dead!” Ginny shot back, voice thick with emotion. “I had three kits, Star, and was on the brink of death. What was I supposed to do?!” Star fell silent at that, and Ginny continued. “Jamie was the oldest, and she had black-and-white fur. Twitch was light gray, and Trigger was ginger, like me. When I heard about that ginger tom with Flightpaw, well… I thought you'd seen Trigger."

"I'm sorry," Star said, though whether for her kits being raised in Skyclan or as an apology for accusing her of being irresponsible, she didn't know. Ginny snorted, tail twitching. 

"That's why I need to ask you to help me," she continued, eyes blazing. "I'm going to rescue my kits from Skyclan, Star, and I'm going to need your help to do it."

Chapter Text

In. Out. In. Out.

Hawkpaw was careful to keep his breaths smooth and controlled, desperate not to disturb the deadened leaves hanging just above his head, poised to fall at the slightest disturbance. Just three tail-lengths above and to the right of him was a fairly plump woodpecker, just beginning to burrow a nest in the trunk of the oak tree they were perched on. 

In. Out. In. Out.

Hawkpaw bunched up his legs and leapt, paws outstretched towards the woodpecker. His prey didn’t see him until it was too late, and by then the brown tabby was upon it. The bird let out a brief squawk before Hawkpaw silenced it with a bite to the neck. But the hard part wasn’t over yet. Hawkpaw was balanced precariously on the branch he’d leapt to, struggling to keep hold of his catch.

But before he could think of a way to jump to a more steady foothold, the branch itself snapped. Now it was Hawkpaw’s turn to squawk as he plummeted to the ground, the woodpecker slipping out of his grasp. Hawkpaw himself barely had the time to flip over and land on his feet, hitting the ground with a heavy oomph.

“Ow…” Hawkpaw grumbled, shaking the leaves out of his fur. With a commotion like that, he’d just scared off the rest of the prey in a ten fox-length radius, and that was assuming there had been any in the first place. 

Well, at least he’d gotten some prey out of it. Hawkpaw nosed around a bit before finding the woodpecker half-buried under a pile of leaves. It was plump, too. He purred briefly before picking it up in his jaws.

A chilly burst of wind picked up, bringing with it the scent of a cat. Hawkpaw glanced behind him just in time to catch sight of Birdwing jumping down from an ash tree to meet him, blue eyes glittering.

“Aw, did you see that?” Hawkpaw huffed. Birdwing’s purr answered it all, and he groaned. “Don’t tell Leafstar. She’s thinking about assessing me in a couple days, and I want to make a good impression.”

“You’ve already made one with the bird,” she replied. “I haven’t caught a whiff of anything out here—the fire’s long scared off all the good prey. Anyways, come on. Leafstar wants to meet us by Firestar’s tree so we can get back before sunhigh.”

“Right. Sunhigh.” Hawkpaw fought to contain the uneasiness of the reminder that Tawnypaw was leaving today. Two days had passed since they’d had the evening meeting where the journey had been proposed, and now the preparations to leave had been almost completed. Everyone seemed excited about receiving direct revelation from Starclan, but Hawkpaw couldn’t help but feel a pang of betrayal in his belly whenever he thought of Tawnypaw leaving him behind.

And Birdwing knew him too well to not notice the hesitancy in his voice. She glanced over at him as they began to walk, the flicker of concern in her pelt all Hawkpaw needed to know what she was going to say next. 

“Look, Seedtail, Waspwhisker, and Juniperpelt are going to keep your sister safe,” she tried, sending him a comforting look that quickly faded into a dark amusement. “They’ll probably not have to deal with this prey shortage, anyway. Four less mouths to feed, I suppose.”

“Prey shortage?” Hawkpaw tilted his head, looking at her. “I know the forests here have gone pretty barren since the fire, but we still have the plains and the pine forest to hunt in—they were all untouched. We have enough."

“For now. It’s almost leaf-fall, Hawkpaw; the prey is at its most abundant at this time of year, but the clan is large. It’ll all be downhill from here.” Birdwing took a cursory look around the forest. Sprigs of green, even almost a moon after the fire, were still few and far between. Worry and fear suddenly flared off her pelt, so strong it caught Hawkpaw off guard. “We were lucky to make it through the last leaf-bare with as few casualties as we did, especially with the bought of greencough that hit us near the end of it. Echosong got us through, Starclan bless her, but she had supplies then, and she's running low now, while leaf-bare's still several moons away."

Hawkpaw tried to ignore the swirling pit of worry that formed in his belly as his friend spoke. She did have a point. Hawkpaw had only been a kit at the time, but he remembered, dimly, how the warriors had grown sick and weak in the swirling snow. More clear was seeing Harrybrook burst into a flurry of coughs and collapsing while cleaning the nursery. Echosong had taken him and his sister to the medicine den, and Cherrytail had been beside herself with worry that her kits would get sick, too. They'd stayed in the elder's den for the next couple nights.

At the time, it had all been a great adventure, but now Hawkpaw looked back with more experienced eyes. And… Starclan, that must have been terrifying for their parents, wondering if their kits would catch the disease. 

The woodpecker in his jaws was suddenly much more precious.

"Yeah." Birdwing flicked an ear at his continued silence, then turned her eyes back ahead.

Sandyclaw and his apprentice, Bellapaw, were already there when they arrived. The light brown tom was showing his apprentice a rather advanced hunting maneuver, a deceased mouse lying near their feet. As they approached, Bellapaw sprung up into the air, aiming for a twig hanging off of the tree’s lower branches. Her paws fell just a kitten-step too low, though, and she returned to the ground empty-pawed.

“Learning how to hunt birds?” Birdwing asked by way of greeting. Sandyclaw nodded, sparks of frustration flaking off of him, while Bellapaw drew a paw over one ear, embarrassment at being seen failing burning through her. “Good try, Bellapaw. You almost had it.”

“‘Almost’ catches no prey,” Sandyclaw huffed. “She lost a shrew earlier, so I figured we needed to review the move she tried to catch it with.”

Hawkpaw winced. He felt bad for Bellapaw, but he hadn’t seen shrews in the fresh-kill pile for days. It would’ve been nice to have something other than mouse or vole to eat for once.

“I see you’ve all beat me here.” The group looked up to see Leafstar jumping down from a tree branch, two small mice in her jaws. She set them down to better speak to them. “Is this all you caught?”

“Yeah,” Bellapaw muttered, scuffing her paws on the ground.

“I couldn’t catch a whiff of prey where I was hunting,” Birdwing confessed, the same worry from earlier spiking up once again. To Hawkpaw’s horror, the same fear echoed in Leafstar, though outwardly she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well, I’m sure you all did your best,” she said, gazing lingering on Bellapaw. “I expect Shrewtooth’s patrol to do better, anyways.”

She hadn’t. If Leafstar was so worried, she hadn’t expected their hunt to go this badly. Somehow, it made the issue of food shortages all the more real. Still, he couldn’t help but admire her for the ease with which she lied to cover up her own fear to reassure her clanmates. As Sandyclaw took the lead back to camp, Birdwing and Bellapaw fell into step side-by-side, their topic of conversation shifting to hunting techniques. Birdwing’s worry was swiftly declining, while Bellapaw’s shame had near faded completely.

“How do you do that?” Hawkpaw whispered as his mentor took up the position next to him in the back of the patrol. “You calmed them down so easily.”

Leafstar hummed knowingly, looking at him with warm, almost motherly amber eyes.

"It's an acquired skill," she murmured back. "I won't lie to you, Hawkpaw; I am worried about this coming leaf-bare. But I also have confidence that Skyclan will survive it. There's no need to worry everyone about something only Starclan can control."

"Oh." Hawkpaw scuffed his feet on the ground as the gorge came into sight.

"Good job on your catch today, too," Leafstar added after a few minutes. "That'll feed at least two cats on its own."

Hawkpaw lowered his ears and mumbled thanks as they crossed the river using the tree bridge. Just ahead, he could see Clovertail watching her kits play near the base of camp. Firepaw and Owlpaw were there, too, showing them some basic hunting maneuvers. 

"Hey!" It was Twigkit who saw them first, gray fur fluffed out against the wind. "Leafstar's patrol is back!"

That sent the kits into a flurry in motion, and Leafstar was all too happy to take a couple moments to answer some questions, passing her mice off to Bellapaw as she did so. 

"I'm going to take my bird up to the medicine den," Hawkpaw said. "For Tawnypaw. Want to come with?"

"Sure," Birdwing shrugged, though optimism leapt inside of her. Hawkpaw purred to himself—trust Birdwing to jump at any chance to see Hollyfrost—and bunched his legs, jumping up to the small ledge that signaled the medicine den.

"Echosong, we brought some food for you and Tawnypaw," Birdwing called as they approached. Ducking into the cave, Hawkpaw caught sight of Tawnypaw sorting a pile of herbs into five piles, while Echosong was inspecting Hollyfrost's wounds. The tom seemed to have recovered immensely from the fight three days ago, pink lines in his fur the only sign he'd been hurt.

"Oh, good," Echosong purred, glancing over at them. "Just a moment." She turned away from Hollyfrost and walked over to Tawnypaw, looking closely at her herbs. "Almost, Tawnypaw. A little more burnet, a little less chamomile."

"Fox-dung," Tawnypaw muttered, reaching to remove some of the leaves. "Thought I had it this time."

"Hollyfrost, you're cleared," Echosong said, looking back at the young warrior. "You'll be good to return home tonight. But if your Twolegs want to take you to the vet, don't resist. Sometimes they catch things I miss."

"Right," Hollyfrost nodded, eyes lighting up. He turned to Birdwing. "You hear that? I'm finally free to return to warrior duties!"

"That's great!" Birdwing purred. They touched noses, and Hawkpaw decided to ignore their lovey-dovey-ness by dropping his woodpecker next to Tawnypaw. 

"Here," he said. "You're leaving soon, right? I thought you'd want something good before you go."

"Thanks, Hawkpaw," Tawnypaw said, finishing up the last of her herb-sorting. An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Their relationship had seemed to have hit a rough point with this whole journey thing; they’d hardly spoken these last few days. Flickers of amusement were coming off of Echosong’s pelt, but Hawkpaw tried to ignore it.

"So, uh…" Hawkpaw muttered as Tawmypaw moved to eat, trying to think of something to say. "What are those herbs for?"

"Traveling herbs," Tawnypaw replied between bites. "Basically they keep up a cat's strength while traveling; it'll give us a good head start. Burnet for strength, daisy for the joints, chamomile for hunger, etc. The works."

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

Birdwing and Hollyfrost had left together by now, and Hawkpaw caught Echosong sending them a quick glance as she moved to organize some of her herb stores, her amusement having strengthened into a steady flow.

“Alright, you can just laugh if you want to, Echosong,” Hawkpaw announced blatantly, shocking even himself with how casually he spoke of his powers. Despite it, Echosong laughed softly as Tawnypaw’s head whipped up, ears flattening in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” Echosong chuckled, turning away from her herbs. “It’s just that the way you’re acting is pretty ridiculous. Just because you two have had a fight doesn’t mean you can’t make up before you leave.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Tawnypaw shook her head, taking one last bite of the woodpecker and standing up. “I’m going to take these herbs to Seedtail, Waspwhisker, and Juniperpelt. You can have the rest of the bird. Want to help, Hawkpaw?”

“Sure,” Hawkpaw replied as Tawnypaw placed the bundles of herbs in ivy leaves, handing two to Hawkpaw and taking three for herself. She led the way out of the den, waving a tail in farewell to her mentor, and Hawkpaw followed behind her.

Echosong did have a point, he mused. They were acting unnecessarily awkward around each other, and for what? Starclan had to have a reason for sending Tawnypaw to the original territory. If only he could find a way to actually dream himself there instead of always finding himself in the Dark Forest; then he could actually ask why.

“The herbs are ready I assume?” As they approached the Rockpile, Waspwhisker bounded down to meet them, Seedtail and Barley at his heels. Tawnypaw nodded at the senior warrior’s words, setting down the herb wraps so she could speak. 

“Yeah. You guys can have these three,” she replied, then looked around. “Where’s Juniperpelt?”

“Grooming,” Seedtail answered exasperatedly. Tawnypaw snorted and Hawkpaw rolled his eyes. That was Juniperpelt for you. Waspwhisker just flicked his tail good-naturedly, bending down and lapping up his herbs, making a face as he did so.

“Here, Hawkpaw, set down your wraps, too,” Tawnypaw instructed as Seedtail copied the senior warrior. The tabby dutifully did as he was told, and his sister took her last leaf wrap, eating them all without so much of a grimace.

“How do you stand this stuff?” Seedtail nearly gagged as she finished off her herbs, amber eyes watering.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Tawnypaw teased back with a wink. Hawkpaw rolled his eyes as he sensed a flicker of apprehension and hope, not coming from any of them. He turned to see Leafstar, Sparrowpelt, Cherrytail, and Brambleclaw jumping down to meet them, with Juniperpelt trailing a ways behind them. 

“Leafstar. Sparrowpelt.” Waspwhisker bowed his head as the leader and deputy approached. Leafstar nodded back as Hawkpaw’s parents hurried towards him and his sister.

“Are we ready?” Sparrowpelt asked, just as Juniperpelt reached them. He regarded the young warrior with exasperated amusement.

“We’re waiting on Juniperpelt,” Seedtail answered. 

“Sorry!” Said warrior exclaimed, embarrassment flickering off of him. He bent down to eat his herbs, gagged, then forced them down with a shiver.

“Well, I am impressed that you ate those all at once,” Tawnypaw quipped. Juniperpelt shuddered.

“Tawnypaw.” The medicine cat apprentice turned to face her father. “Remember everything you’ve learned. A medicine cat on a journey like this can be a whole lot more valuable than you may think. Juniperpelt,” The cream tom looked up sharply. “Train her well and keep her safe.”

“Yes, sir.” He replied, serious. Brambleclaw nodded as Cherrytail touched her nose to her daughter’s shoulder.

“Be careful,” she murmured. Tawnypaw nodded. 

“You should head out now,” Leafstar said. “If you want to make it past the dangerous part of Twolegplace by nightfall. Billystorm and the daylight warriors have agreed to go home early and guard you for as long as you can, and Harveymoon has volunteered to let you stay at his twoleg’s nest for the night, as he lives the farthest away from the clan. Seedtail and Barley will lead you from there.”

“Alright, then,” Waspwhisker nodded. He glanced at Barley, who nodded in return.

“Goodbye, Barley,” Brambleclaw stood, blinking gratefully at him. “May Starclan be with you.”

“And with you,” the loner replied softly. The two old friends held each other’s gaze for a long moment, before Waspwhisker flicked his tail and leapt up towards the top of the gorge. Barley and Seedtail were soon to follow, while Tawnypaw and Juniperpelt brought up the rear. Leafstar sat down, watching them go, while Brambleclaw’s tail flicked back and forth, a deep apprehension seeping off of him.

“Tawnypaw!” Hawkpaw called out, waiting until his sister turned around to speak. “Good luck!”

Tawnypaw smiled and raised her tail in farewell. Then she turned back around and hurried to catch up to the rest of the patrol as they met up with the daylight warriors. In a couple of minutes, the patrol, now almost a dozen cats strong, were over the gorge’s top and out of sight. 

“Oh, I worry for Tawnypaw sometimes,” Cherrytail murmured. “Starclan, keep her safe.”

“She’ll be protected,” Sparrowpelt reassured his sister. “Waspwhisker and Seedtail are two of our best warriors, and Juniperpelt is showing signs of being a good mentor when the time comes.”

“And with Tawnypaw there, any injuries will be taken care of,” Brambleclaw added, more to himself than anyone else. Hawkpaw watched them talk, the swirling negative emotions making him feel more and more uneasy. Was this journey really so dangerous?

“Hawkpaw.” The tabby turned around to see Leafstar tilt her head at him. “It’s been a long while since we’ve last had a battle lesson together. Do you want to come to the sandy hollow with me?”

“Yeah,” Hawkpaw nodded. His mentor was trying to take his mind off things, and he really appreciated it. He needed a break. “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

After falling asleep that night, Hawkpaw opened his eyes to see the dark, misty trees of the Dark Forest surrounding him. Unlike the last two times he’d been there, however, he wasn’t surprised to have ended up here. In all actuality, he’d planned on it. 

If he couldn’t end up in Starclan, then he’d have to do with the next best thing.

He’d woken up in the same place as he had three nights ago, so that was a relief, doubly so that there were no cats in sight, and no fresh scents besides the faint rotten scent of Mapleshade and the pine-needles that signaled Blackstar’s presence.

Recalling the direction Blackstar had taken him, Hawkpaw set out that way. In the corner of his eye, he could see the faint forms of cats, misty things wisping through the trees, but he did his best to ignore them. He had bigger threats to worry about, after all.

Thankfully, he made it to the sludgy river without incident. The forest was eerily silent for a place where those rejected from Starclan went, and that didn’t feel right.

“Whatever,” Hawkpaw muttered to himself, shaking his head to try and dispel his anxieties. He was lucky tonight; he might as well not go looking for trouble any more than he already had. 

There! Hawkpaw caught sight of the claw-marked tree a dozen or so fox-lengths down the river from where he stood. Relieved, he bunched up his legs, leapt up to the lowest-hanging branch, and started to climb. And climb. And climb.

By the time the ground was out of sight, Hawkpaw had to stop and catch his breath. His training with Leafstar had lasted most of the afternoon, and had thoroughly exhausted him. He’d learned a lot, but now his legs were burning, and he sat down to take a break.

“I see you have a good head of yours on your shoulders,” came a female voice from above him. Hawkpaw screeched in surprise at the comment, nearly falling off the branch before managing to right himself. Ears flat in a mixture of fear and embarrassment, he looked up to see Hollyleaf staring down at him from a branch several tail-lengths up. Once again, her pitch-black fur rendered her nearly invisible, save for her jade-green eyes. 

“Dear Starclan, be more subtle next time,” Hawkpaw huffed, still trying to catch his breath from the scare. “You’re not easy to see, you know!”

Hollyleaf scoffed, unsheathing her claws. “Don’t take Starclan’s name here, kit. I may be your ally, but even I have my limits.”

Hawkpaw frowned, deciding it’d be best to do as she said. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

“Where’s Blackstar?” He asked, taking a look around. There was no sign of the large black tom. “I need to ask him a question.”

Hollyleaf shrugged. “He hasn’t shown up.” 

Hawkpaw narrowed his eyes. “Seriously? I took a risk coming here because I needed to talk to him.”

“Any number of things could be keeping him awake,” the black she-cat shot back. “Night patrols, battles, meetings with his deputy and warriors. Sometimes he doesn’t show up at all. The tom has a clan to run, you know, and has better things to do than play fox-and-mouse with Brokenstar.”

“Who’s Brokenstar?”

Hollyleaf visibly rolled her eyes. “You are from Skyclan if you don’t know who Brokenstar is. He’s a nasty tom; Blackstar was his deputy back in the day.”

“Really? Why’d he end up here?”

Hollyleaf curled her lip in disgust. “Brokenstar is one of the worst there is: a kit-killer. He apprenticed Shadowclan’s kits at three moons old, and made them warriors at six. Most didn’t survive training, and when Shadowclan ran low on young, Brokenstar kidnapped Windclan and Thunderclan kits to swell his ranks before driving out Windclan from the territory entirely.”

Hawkpaw balked in horror. That was almost as bad as the stories about the rats Clovertail had told him about when he was a kit! Hollyleaf, on the other paw, had hardly reacted when telling the story, save for the sheen of disgust painting her emotions and tone.

“And Blackstar was his deputy?” Sure, the tom wasn’t the nicest person around, but he had enough of a conscience to help him out when he’d landed here. He just seemed to have morals that put him above such actions.

“And one of his most ardent supporters. He was Tigerstar’s deputy too, you know, after Brokenstar was driven out and killed.”

Hawkpaw recalled the malice he’d sensed off of his doppelganger and shuddered. Then he frowned, because the white tom had disliked him, and deep down had been afraid of him, just as much as Hawkpaw had. “Blackstar wouldn’t do that!”

“Kit, cats end up here for a reason,” Hollyleaf hissed, suddenly angry as she fluffed out her fur and bore her fangs at him. Hawkpaw flinched, receding his powers from her to try and shelter himself from the swirling inferno that was Hollyleaf’s emotions. “Why do you think he comes here every night? Because he wants to?! Hah! Blackstar has killed many cats, some of them kits half your age. He was the second-in-command of two of the worst dictators the clans had seen. He trained here for moons, taught others fighting techniques the Warrior Code forbade. You can’t put that kind of past behind you. Blackstar’s fate has been sealed, Hawkpaw; Starclan tolerates him being leader because he is the only candidate his clan has to offer. He will never be worthy enough to join their ranks. Pray you don’t make the same mistakes he has.”

Hollyleaf sniffed when she finished speaking, eyeing him disdainfully. Seeming to decide that he was no longer worth her time, she turned over in her branch so her face was no longer in sight, and laid down.

Hawkpaw’s eyes fell, trying to take in the sheer amount of backstory Hollyleaf had just dumped on him. At first, he could hardly connect Blackstar to the ruthless, murdering deputy the black warrior had painted him as. Blackstar had helped him out when he’d first ended up here, had watched over him until he fell asleep. But…

‘ I am fairly certain you remember what happened last time you challenged me,’ he’d said to Mapleshade. And with the scars on his pelt… the tom had seen battle many times before.

Should he really trust Blackstar?

Hawkpaw mulled on that for a while, the forest silent save for his breathing. Hollyleaf’s mind had calmed a little, so she had probably started dozing. The brown tabby caught himself nodding off a couple times as well, and poked himself with a claw to stay awake. He needed to ask Blackstar this question—he was probably the only cat he could reliably ask.

Finally, Hawkpaw sensed the minute trembling in the tree, the signature of a cat climbing up it. Heart leaping, he looked down and, indeed, he could see Blackstar’s ragged white coat (actually, why was he called Black star if his fur was mostly white?) a ways down below him. Hollyleaf lifted her head as he approached, watching them silently.

“You ended up here again?” Blackstar asked by way of greeting. Hawkpaw watched the Shadowclan leader warily, then shook himself out of his thoughts. Blackstar didn’t have any malicious feelings at the moment, so he could think about what Hollyleaf had said later.

“I needed to ask you a question,” he said, trying to ignore the unsettling prickle of Hollyleaf’s gaze on the nape of his neck. “My sister is going to your original territories, the place where the clans are originally from. Is she in danger?”

“That’s why you came here?” Blackstar asked, tilting his head, unimpressed. Hawkpaw resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“Starclan asked us to go there, alright? But everyone is acting like they’re in mortal danger. I just want to know if she’ll be safe on her way there and back, alright?”

A spark of fondness flecked off of Hollyleaf’s pelt, and Hawkpaw had to resist glancing at her in surprise. Blackstar, meanwhile, just shook his head.

“Worrying won’t do you any good,” he answered, shifting to groom himself. “The original territories would have long been overrun by Twolegs by now, anyways. As long as she avoids them, she’ll be fine.” 

But Blackstar’s eyes glinted as he spoke, an interest rising inside of him. Hawkpaw frowned, about to ask why, when he was interrupted by the urge to yawn. Perhaps Leafstar’s training had tired him more than he thought. Hollyleaf certainly didn’t miss the action.

“I think it’s time you go to bed, kit,” she drawled. “I’m sure your clan needs you for all this prophecy stuff. And—” she shifted to look down at Blackstar. “I know that look. You’re thinking about doing something stupid.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Blackstar muttered, swiping his tongue over a paw and drawing it over his head. Hollyleaf flicked an ear in annoyance. 

“The last time you had that look, you betrayed me.”

“Again, no idea.”

The black she-cat snorted. “Go to sleep, Hawkpaw.”

The tabby apprentice opened his mouth to protest, but the sharp look the deceased she-cat sent him was enough to shut him up.

Fine. Let them talk while he went to sleep. Hawkpaw huffed, lying down, and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the battling emotions flying off his two companions. 

Despite it all, he was out within a few minutes.

Chapter Text

The Twolegplace was unlike anything Tawnypaw had ever seen before.

It was almost a beautiful sight, with the early-morning rays of the sun rising over the horizon. Twoleg nests and Thunderpaths stretched as far as she could see, except in the direction from whence they came, where if she craned her neck, she could just see the green grass of the plains, and the dip in the ground where the gorge began.

Still, it wouldn’t do to get distracted. Tawnypaw forced her gaze away from the direction of home, instead turning her attention to Waspwhisker and Seedtail, who were leading the patrol.

So far, their journey to the Old Territories had been quite uneventful, and seemed to consist almost entirely of walking. Yesterday had been entertaining, with the dog pack nowhere to be found and Harveymoon and Hollyfrost for company. As planned, they’d spent the night in Harveymoon’s garden, his Twolegs (or “Housefolk,” as the daylight warriors called them) none the wiser. They’d risen with the sun, said goodbye to the last clanmate they’d see in a while, and were off again. Now they were walking along a small Thunderpath, where the occasional monster gave them all a good scare.

Tawnypaw’s paws were already starting to ache, and the journey had only just begun.

“This brings back memories,” Juniperpelt, who was walking next to her, mused, looking nostalgic. Tawnypaw looked over at him, the statement piquing her curiosity.

“Indeed it does,” Seedtail agreed, falling back a few steps to better talk to the young warrior. “But I thought you grew up a loner. Wouldn't you have spent your time in the forest?”

“Usually,” the cream tom agreed. “When leaf-bare came around, though, Brackenfall and I stayed in this Twolegplace. It had more food than the forest.” He made a face. “Though it didn’t exactly taste good, it kept us alive.”

“I don’t think I could ever imagine living here without a Twoleg,” Tawnypaw put in. She glanced into one of the Twoleg nests, and shuddered. “Maybe not even then.”

“Oh, some cats love this sort of life,” Seedtail shrugged, following her gaze. “I was a kittypet once upon a time too, you know. I lived with my sister, and she loved being pampered and doted upon by the Twolegs.” She chuckled. “I always had a free spirit, though. When Cherrytail was brought to my home and needed to find her way back to SkyClan, I went with her without much of a second thought.”

“What was it like, growing up here?”

“Oh, I didn’t live in this Twolegplace. But it was a very easy life. Too easy, if I’m honest. The Twolegs love cats—usually—but they show it by basically filling all our needs. I slept and played with toys all day.”

“Sounds nice,” Juniperpelt remarked, rolling his shoulders.

“And boring,” Tawnypaw added. She couldn’t find it in herself to imagine living without the sharp scents of herbs around her and a clan to care for. 

“For some,” Seedtail agreed with a knowing flick of the ear. She glanced up ahead, then bounded back towards Waspwhisker. “I remember this intersection.” She tilted her head towards a light blue Twoleg nest on the corner opposite them. “We should cross and go… right.”

“Alright, then,” Waspwhisker agreed, just as a particularly large monster rushed by, ruffling his fur. He turned to Tawnypaw. “This is your first time crossing a major thunderpath, so stay close to me, alright?”

“No complaints here,” the tortoiseshell replied, watching the thunderpath warily. Unlike the smooth-cut stone and soft grass they’d been walking on so far, the black surface of the thunderpath looked rough and sharp.

“Barley, Seedtail, and Juniperpelt, you go first,” Waspwhisker ordered. “Tawnypaw, watch how they do it. We’ll go in the next opening after them.”

“Alright,” Seedtail replied. She stepped out into the open, perching herself right on the edge of the thunderpath. Barley and Juniperpelt took both of her sides. They waited there for a few heartbeats as two monsters passed by in quick succession, then burst into sprints, racing across the thunderpath. Even Barley, the elder, ran at speeds Tawnypaw didn’t know he was capable of. Before she knew it, they were safe on the other side, disappearing into the bushes that lined the blue Twoleg nest.

“See how they did it?” Waspwhisker asked, flicking his tail. “It’s easy as long as you time it right.”

“Yeah. Run as fast as I can,” Tawnypaw muttered. “Like Firepaw did when Featherpaw put fire ants in his nest.”

The senior warrior snorted at that, walking up to the intersection. Tawnypaw followed suit, the rush of air from a passing monster causing her to close her eyes for a moment. The ground rumbled slightly beneath her paws, fur ruffled from the force. In that moment, she knew why her parents and the daylight warriors spoke of the Thunderpath so seriously. That monster could squash her flat and not even slow down. 

“You good?” Waspwhisker asked. Tawnypaw blinked her eyes back open, shaking herself a bit, and nodded. The monster from before was long gone, now, but another was coming up. “We’ll go after this one. Don’t hesitate and you’ll be fine.”

Tawnypaw nodded mutely, mouth suddenly feeling a bit dry. Waspwhisker crouched down at the very edge of the path, like the others had done, and Tawnypaw hurried to copy him. The monster roared past barely a few heartbeats later, once again forcing her to briefly close her eyes from the force of it.

“Now!”

It took her a moment to realize that Waspwhisker had taken off. Tawnypaw hurried to follow him, trailing just behind his tail. The thunderpath was coarse and sticky under her feet, almost uncomfortably hot from the morning sun. The trip itself seemed to last a lifetime, yet before she knew it, Tawnypaw touched the cement pavement on the other side of the path and was securely in the bush.

She paused for a moment, breathing heavily as Waspwhisker paused to let her recover.

“See?” He said, brushing his flank against hers. “As long as you’re careful, Thunderpaths are easy enough to get through.”

“Yeah…” she said breathily, blinking a few times to center herself before speaking more firmly. “That wasn’t too bad.”

“Good job, Tawnypaw!” Juniperpelt said, emerging from behind the leaves. “That was a lot better than my first time.”

“Thanks,” She replied as Seedtail and Barley came into sight. 

“You’ll get used to it,” Seedtail put in, glancing down the path before them. “Alright. We’ll want to go down this way for a while; it’ll get us out of the way of the more… territorial kittypets, the ones we’ve seen at the edges of the Twolegplace.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Waspwhisker replied, nodding to her. He padded forwards to the front of the group, letting Seedtail to his side. “Let’s get going, then. We’re wasting daylight!”

“Time to go where no Skyclan cat has gone before!” Juniperpelt cheered. 

Tawnypaw laughed, and the warrior brushed shoulders with her playfully as they started walking once again.

Tawnypaw’s paws were killing her.

When they’d first started off on their journey that morning, Tawnypaw hadn’t given much thought to the sheer amount they’d be walking. The warriors were moving about in one way or another all day; certainly it wouldn’t be that bad. No, instead she’d focused on the novelty of traveling through the Twolegplace, and the strangeness and oddities of the monsters, Twoleg nests, and kittypets they passed by.

Now, though, her paws were aching like nobody’s business. Waspwhisker had been lucky enough to find them a grove of trees to settle in for the night, so at least they weren’t on the hard pavement. But the wooded area wasn’t exactly a forest, or even a grove. The trees were much too uniform, the brush too sparse and perfect, for it to feel authentic.

Still, they’d found a decently-size bush, big enough to reasonably cover the five members of the patrol. Barley had fallen asleep almost instantly, also getting the first (and currently only) serving of prey, since he was the elder of the group. Seedtail and Waspwhisker were still out hunting, while Juniperpelt had stayed behind to keep an eye on her and Barley. 

Speaking of Juniperpelt.

“Tawnypaw. Tawnypaw.” 

Someone was jabbing their paw into her side while she was trying to sleep.

“What?” She hissed, turning and cracking open her eyes to give him a low look. She was exhausted.

If Juniperpelt had any social awareness, he didn’t give any cues to it, flicking his ear back.

“I’ve gotta show you some hunting stances,” he said, leaning down. “So you can start reliably providing for yourself. Remember what Echosong and Leafstar said?”

Tawnypaw let out a long sigh. Right. Hunting. She’d forgotten about that.

Honestly, hunting being forgotten was an apt description of her training in that area. Echosong had shown her the basic moves around a half-moon into her apprenticeship, but hunting had been largely disregarded as a “we’ll get to that later” kind of subject as Cyanide became a greater threat. She knew all the basic fighting moves, and was even halfway decent at them, and knew most of the herbs inside and out, but hunting had largely eluded her.

With a groan, Tawnypaw heaved herself to her feet, wincing at the ache of it, but pushed herself forwards, ducking under a few of the lower branches and into the nighttime air. The sun had set only a short time before, the temperature dropping to a brisk chill with it. Despite the darkness, it was still unnaturally bright, the lights from the Twoleg nests casting a dull glow in the trees.

That was a good way to describe twolegs. Unnatural.

 “Alrighty,” Juniperpelt yawned. “Do you know the basic hunting stance?” When she nodded, he continued. “Okay, can you show me it?”

“It has been a while,” Tawnypaw said, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed through her annoyance and exhaustion. She crouched down, trying her best to remember the positions Echosong had taught her those moons ago. Weight went back on her haunches, right?

“O kay,” Juniperpelt hummed, in a way that made it obvious that Tawnypaw had done it wrong. “We have a lot to work on. First off,” he tapped her hind leg with a paw. “Tuck your haunches in more, or you won’t have much of a spring at all.”

Tawnypaw let out a long breath, and did so, muscles protesting.

“Lower your tail and try to hold it still. Good. Coil yourself a bit like a snake. Tuck in your neck.” Juniperpelt walked around hew a few more times, periodically fixing her form, before he stopped, tilting his head to a small rock lying a little more than a fox-length away. “Alright, try and get that rock.”

Tawnypaw took a moment to locate the target, before putting a firm force into her haunches, and pouncing forwards. Her legs stretched out, but she still fell short, stumbling to a stop a mouse length away.

“Fox-dung!” She hissed, clawing at the ground. 

“Hey, let’s try again,” Juniperpelt said. “It was your first try in a few moons, and we’ve been walking all day; you’re bound to be rusty.”

He patted the ground next to him, and reluctantly Tawnypaw returned to her old position, trying to remember the exact movements. Juniperpelt, however, still ended up adjusting her several times, and when she pounced again, she very nearly landed flat on her face. She could practically feel Juniperpelt’s wince behind her, and she burned under her pelt, despite the nighttime chill.

“Yeah, I know,” she hissed before he had a chance to speak. “I suck at this.”

“Well, yes,” the cream tom conceded. “But you are a medicine cat. This isn’t exactly your job.”

Tawnypaw just shook her head as she stood back up. This was ridiculous. That was the basic hunting stance! Even Firepaw had learned that in his first week! And here she was, 4 moons in, unable to even pounce right.

“This is stupid,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Shush!”

Tawnypaw started at Juniperpelt’s sudden hiss. She turned around to face him, only to see him standing stock still. His mouth was slightly open, ears angled, yellow eyes almost glowing in the evening light. A heartbeat later, she scented something unfamiliar. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, tinged with the scent of crowfood and a peculiar sensation that she couldn’t describe as anything other than thick. What was going on?

“Wake up Barley,” Juniperpelt whispered, hardly more than a breath on the wind. 

Tawnypaw did as she was told, creeping back to the bush. Barley was curled near the middle, tail tucked over his nose as he breathed deeply. She almost felt bad, poking him awake. The elder’s eyes blinked open at the first touch, but he didn’t say anything as she flicked her ears for him to follow her out. 

Barley’s shoulders had barely cleared the last branches when Juniperpelt screeched and there was a strange yipping sound, stronger and louder than a fox. 

“Dog!” Barley shouted, springing into action. “Tawnypaw, run!”

Dog. Tawnypaw had never encountered one before, but she’d heard the tales told by the elders and the daylight warriors. No wonder Juniperpelt had gotten so serious. When Barley burst into a sprint, she was a pawstep behind him, the two of them racing back towards the Twolegplace.

The scent of blood tinted the air. Tawnypaw risked a glance behind her to see Juniperpelt racing towards them, ears flat as he sprinted. Behind him… a large beast, three times the size of a cat, with floppy ears and large, slobbering fangs tinged red. 

“Go!” Juniperpelt screamed, and Tawnypaw returned her attention in front of her just as they left the trees and hit the Thunderpath bordering it. There wasn’t any time to look for monsters, but thankfully none were there, letting them cross safely.

Tawnypaw glanced around them. They were running down the side of a slightly smaller thunderpath, with Twoleg nests on both sides. None of them had fences to climb or places to tuck themselves out of reach of the animal pursuing them. Her heart thudded near painfully in her chest as she ran after Barley. How were they going to escape? If Barley didn’t know, he sure didn’t show it, instead bringing them down and taking the first turn to the left. 

Tawnypaw didn’t know how long they ran, but by the end of it, Barley was starting to slow and she was, frankly, impressed with the determination of this dog to catch them. They turned a corner, nearly coming face-to-face with their first wooden fence. It wasn’t a full one, with small gaps between them… just big enough for a cat. 

Sure enough, Barley slipped through the slat with only a mild grunt. Tawnypaw slipped through just after him, and a few heartbeats later, so did Juniperpelt, tail just escaping the dog’s jaws by a mousetail. Too big to get through, the dog slowed and stopped just outside of it, barking and gnashing its teeth. 

Tawnypaw slowed to a stop once she realized the beast wasn’t about to get though, the three of them heaving for breath as the dog tried to bust through the fence. The structure shuddered, but held firm.

“There… were not any stray dogs here the last time I checked,” Juniperpelt huffed, pausing to breathe a few more times. His fur was still spiked along his spine as he glared at the dog, who was still panting on the other side. There was a decently-sized wound on his shoulder, blood dripping down his right foreleg. 

“You’re hurt,” Tawnypaw said, surprising herself with how timid she sounded. The dog scratched at the fencepost, and she winced, returning her attention to it. 

“It got me at the beginning,” Juniperpelt replied with a low hiss. “Stings like a wasp but I’ll be alright for a bit.” 

“We should get going,” Barley cut in. “We were lucky we found this twoleg nest, but I don’t want to count on that fence holding.”

“Hey! Are you guys alright?”

A young female voice cut between them, causing the three to jump and look up. There was a decently-sized hole in one of the twoleg nests, the top half covered in something that was nearly transparent but not quite, the bottom half open. Sitting in that opening was a short-furred brown she-cat, emerald eyes glittering with worry in the darkness. A blue, sparkling collar was fastened to her neck.

“I’m so sorry, that mutt moved in two weeks ago, and he’s been a terror ever since,” the she-cat went on before they could respond, glancing between the three of them. “Oh, I hope you’re not too hurt. I’ll wake up my housefolk, she’ll scare off that thing.” With that, she disappeared back into the nest, leaving Juniperpelt and Tawnypaw to stare blankly at each other. Barley just huffed out a half-laugh of sorts.

“She’s a kittypet, alright,” he chuckled. “Come on, you don’t want to get caught by a Twoleg, do you?”

Tawnypaw shook her head, and followed Barley as they walked further away from the snarling dog. There were some flowering bushes situated right next to the Twoleg next, and they tucked themselves in, mostly out of sight just as the main entrance to the Twoleg nest opened. A female twoleg with long head fur strode out, shouting unintelligibly at the dog. She had some kind of smooth stick in one hand, with a bunch of smaller sticks on one end that she used to hit at the dog from behind the fence. In a few minutes, she’d sent the dog racing back down the street. 

“We’re lucky that kittypet has such good control of her twoleg,” Barley said quietly, watching the dog turn back around the corner they’d come from. “At the barn, the twolegs there rarely corralled the dogs like that.”

Juniperpelt hummed in agreement as the Twoleg walked back to the nest and went inside, closing the opening behind her. Once she was gone, Juniperpelt peeked his head out through the branches. 

“We’re good,” he said, exiting the brush. Tawnypaw followed suit, then Barley. 

“What are we going to do now?” She asked, looking at the warrior. “Waspwhisker and Seedtail are still hunting. That dog could go after them!”

“They’re two very capable warriors; I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Juniperpelt replied, but his voice shook in a way that betrayed his fear. “Uh… should we go back to the trees?”

“Do you know how to get back?” Barley asked. “I wasn’t paying attention. And either way, the dog might very well go back there.”

Juniperpelt opened his mouth as if to respond, but nothing came out but a low hiss as he returned his attention to his wounded shoulder. He turned and lapped at some of the fur below it, trying to clear the blood.

“Here, let me take a look at it,” Tawnypaw said, stepping forwards. Juniperpelt nodded, crouching down so she could get a better look. It was deep, but not too large; the amount of blood wasn’t terrible, but it didn’t exactly reassure Tawnypaw, either. Frankly, she was impressed that he’d managed to keep up with them at all, during the chase. 

“What’s the prognosis, doc?” the warrior asked. Tawnypaw blinked at him, confused, and he flicked an ear. “Sorry, that’s a loner saying. How is it?”

“Not the worst I’ve seen, but I also don’t have any supplies,” she replied, kneading her paws into the ground. “Um, I’d need cobwebs, for sure. Horsetail for the bleeding, Marigold to stop possible infection. Ragweed or Lamb’s ear for strength, since we’re traveling. Maybe burdock root…?”

“Well, are any of these herbs accessible?” Barley asked gently, jerking Tawnypaw out her thoughts. 

“We got our supply of Lamb’s ear from Macgyver’s twoleg. They grew it in their garden,” she recalled, remembering the mornings when the black-and-white tom would drop by every moon or so, carrying a mouthful of leaves for them to add to their stores. Suddenly, she wondered how he and Ebonyclaw were doing, and if Ebonyclaw’s pregnancy was progressing as planned. “Maybe some twolegs grow it here?”

“Hey, are you guys alright?” Their conversation was cut off once again by the kittypet they’d seen earlier. She was back at the half-opening, craning her neck to look down at them. 

“Mostly,” Barley replied, stepping forwards. “Thank you for fetching your twoleg, young one. We’re just passing through these parts and happened to stay at the wrong place for the night.”

The kittypet jumped down from the ledge, landing in the grassy clearing with ease. 

“I’m Lily,” She said. “Do you need a place to stay the night? My housefolk is a deep sleeper, and she always leaves too much food out. I’m sure I could find a place for you inside.”

Barley blinked slowly at her. “Your kindness is much appreciated. I’m Barley, and these are my companions, Tawnypaw and Juniperpelt. We were separated from some of our friends thanks to the dog.”

Lily nodded sagely. “Yeah, I’ve heard stories of that dog separating groups like that. Here, we can look in the morning; it’s too dark out now. Do you want something to eat?”

Against her own wishes, Tawnypaw’s stomach rumbled loudly, and she flattened her ears in embarrassment. She hadn’t eaten since midday. 

Lily giggled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Chapter Text

The shrew tasted dry in Star’s mouth. 

That was probably because it was stale, having gotten the last pick from the day’s catch, but her mind was alight with different thoughts and emotions that seemed to accentuate it. Ginny’s words from a few days ago still rung in her head. Her three missing kits haunted her from the waking world into her dreams, small little things with fluffy kit-fur. 

Star had always known that she wanted to be a mother. Not anytime soon, if she had anything to say about it—none of the tomcats really caught her attention, anyways, and she had to admit that Forest’s position was looking appealing—but sometimes, when she was feeling especially fanciful, she liked to imagine having children of her own. She’d spent enough time with Frost and her litter to gain an appreciation for the young, more than most of the other cats in the group.

And the fact that Ginny had kits in Skyclan, well, it was a lot to take in. It was no wonder her friend was so desperate. Star could only imagine the worry she had for her kits growing up in such a place, how eager she was to know if even one of her kits had been spotted.

If Darktail knew, there was no doubt in Star’s mind that he’d chase the hunter and her mate out. Moonlight… she was more iffy. Star didn’t know whether she’d deem the kits a lost cause or not. And, well, Smoke wasn’t exactly an option in the first place. Star didn’t trust her sister as far as she could throw her. Which wasn’t at all. It made sense, at least, why Ginny had gone to her for help instead of them. She was safer.

It didn’t help the fact that Ginny had kin being indoctrinated by their mortal enemies.

She sighed as she caught sight of America padding towards her. If nothing else, at least she had her friend. He’d be able to take her mind off things.

“What’s up, America?” She greeted the tom as he approached.

“Just got off Flightpaw duty,” he shrugged. “Figured I drop by. How are you? You’ve been moping around camp all day.”

“Ah, is it that obvious?” She said sheepishly. America rolled his eyes, plopping down next to her. 

“As obvious as the full moon.” The black and white tom paused, thinking, then added: “Well, maybe a half moon. You weren’t that bad.”

Star laughed. “Well, that’s good to hear. How’s Flightpaw doing?”

“She talked to me today!” America’s ears perked at the mention of the young she-cat. Star stared at him incredulously, then snorted. 

“She snapped at you, didn’t she?”

“Well, yeah, but she talked to me!”

Star just rolled her eyes playfully, sitting up to cuff the black and white tom over the shoulder. “Desperate.”

“Whatever.” America gave her a side-eye, then leaned in conspiratorially to mutter in her ear. “Wanna know what I heard from Washington today?”

“What?” Star asked, giving him a flat look. Half the rumors America liked to cook up were gibberish, but sometimes he was able to get information from Washington that most Hunters weren’t privy to. It was a bit of a coin toss to see which was which. 

“Darktail’s taking a group down to Skyclan,” America whispered, nudging her.  “But he doesn’t want to fight them. Weird, right?”

Star blinked in confusion. Darktail had been very clear that they were to avoid Skyclan unless it was to battle with them. What was all this about?

“Where did you hear this from?” She asked, tilting her head a bit as Firefly, toting an irate-looking Leaflet, passed them by and headed towards the center of camp. 

“Washington was asked to join; I got him to tell me,” America replied, once they were out of earshot. “But Darktail didn’t say what exactly they’d be doing besides not fighting.  Wonder what it’s about.”

Star hummed in agreement, thinking. “Surely he thinks we’re ready to fight Skyclan again,” she mused. “Or that we will be soon.”

America nodded. “Exciting, isn’t it? We haven’t done much since the fire; I’m excited to see what happens next.”

“That’s just because you don’t have to fight,” Star chuckled, shaking her head. 

“Details, details.”

Still, the anxiousness in her stomach was back. Just the other day, she would have been just as ecstatic as America was now, but the knowledge of Ginny’s kits still weighed heavily on her mind. 

They were running out of time. She needed to tell Ginny about this, and figure out something to do to get her kits out without risking them getting hurt. She paused, tail flicking in a mixture of apprehension and frustration. Any Skyclan-raised kits would be deep in their territory, probably with adults protecting them, and Star and Ginny were hunters, with only the most basic idea of battle techniques. With Darktail showing signs of battling them again, they didn't have many options in the long term.

“You’re doing it again. Something bothering you?”

Star jerked out of her thoughts at America’s words, laughing a little as he nudged her. She flushed a little, flattening her ears in embarrassment. Honestly, she could at least be a bit more subtle about this. 

“No, I’m fine,” she laughed, shaking him away as she stood up. “Just lots of thoughts about the upcoming battles. I’m going to see if Ginny needs any help corralling Frost’s kits.”

“ What- ever,” America drawled, splaying on the ground as she left. Star just chuckled to herself as she turned towards the thicket of grass where Frost stayed. Her kits were probably getting old enough to start pulling their own weight, she realized. Soon Darktail would assign them to either the Hunters or the Fighters. It was an odd thought, having no more young in the group. 

Star set her jaw, nosing her way through the grass fronds. If she had anything to say about it, Cyanide would be gaining three new kits in time to replace them.

When Star awoke with a gasp, the dream was already half-forgotten. 

She blinked a few times, trying to remember what exactly the dream, so vivid and yet so hard to grasp, had been about. There had been trees… and vague cats. Dimly, she realized one of the cats had been that little tom that had been with Flightpaw, Firepaw. That was odd. Why had she been dreaming about a random Skyclan cat?

Firefly shifted in her nest next to hers, kicking her before she rolled over and descended back to a deep sleep. Star jolted, then looked up when she realized that it was still dark outside, the moon hanging high in the sky. It was fairly full, casting a thin silver grow through the branches of the Hunters’ den. Strange; she felt so awake, she would have thought it was morning.

Well, she wasn’t going back to bed for a while. Star stood up, stepping carefully over Firefly and out of the den. Might as well get some fresh air while she was at it. 

It was cool outside, bringing with it the spirit of leaf-fall and the promise of leaf-bare to come. The leaves on the trees were just starting to change color, a few spots of golden orange here and there among the green. Star sighed. Hunting is only going to get harder from here, she thought idly. She had been too young to really understand what leaf-bare was, the last time it had come around, but she knew enough to know that it wasn’t going to be fun.

The clearing was fairly empty at this time of night; even Thorn, who was supposed to be keeping an eye on Flightpaw and the dens, was dozing lightly, though his ears were pricked. Star was careful to not wake him as she slipped outside, turning around the den to remain out of sight. 

As she stretched, gazing up at the moon and the splash of stars against the sky, she was struck with a very, very stupid idea. 

Then again, Cyanide almost always slept the night away; surely Skyclan did, too. And it had been moons since Star had been in their territory; she would need a better sense of it if she were going to help Ginny and rescue her kits. 

She was moving before she could think better of it, slipping underneath a bush and into the wider forest. She probably had a few hours before dawn; she could get to Skyclan and back without much trouble if she were quick. 

The owl calling overhead was the only witness when Star broke into a run, paws quietly skimming over the ground as she turned towards Skyclan territory. The forest was quiet, only the gentle rushing of branches in the breeze as she ran. It was freeing, being alone like this in the night. When was the last time Star had gone out on her own like this? She couldn’t remember. 

Soon enough, the branches of the trees turned bare, only budding leaves now shielding the ground from the sky. Leaves, Star noted, that certainly weren’t going to last too long with the frost incoming. 

The realization only furthered her resolve. What if Skyclan starved over the winter? What about Ginny’s kits, then?

A sharp scent hit her nose a few minutes later, and Star slowed to a halt, pausing where the scent was strongest. These trees had clearly been marked, and when she took in a deep breath, the scent of fresh stone and river water flooded her mouth. Skyclan’s scent.

The border. 

Cyanide didn’t have a border; they knew their worth and took what they wanted. The rogues and loners either joined them or were chased off. Skyclan having a border like this, even as intangible as it was, felt almost cowardly to Star. Were they really too scared to go past this imaginary line?

She thought of the incident with Flightpaw and Firepaw, and giggled a little. Of course they were. Skyclan was weak, just as Darktail said. Kit-snatchers and indoctrinators; of course they were afraid of going beyond a set perimeter. 

Star stepped past the scent marker. Nothing happened. 

Of course, nothing happened. Star shook her head, and trotted deeper into the forest, ears pricked and eyes wide as she went. She was in enemy territory now. Best to remain unseen in case anyone did happen to be out this late. 

Star did her best to take in her surroundings as she walked, not straying too far from the border and getting an idea of what their territory was like. The last time she’d been here, it had been to deliver the crowfood warnings on Skyclan’s territory, and she’d been too caught up in the excitement of it all to really pay attention to the environment.

The forest didn’t really look all too different to that around Cyanide’s base, ignoring the effects of the fire. The trees were perhaps a bit taller, but that was about it. Distantly, she heard the rustle of a mouse, but she didn’t consider going after it. She could hunt on the way back; any prey found here could go to Ginny’s kits, if they were lucky. 

The direction of the wind changed, and Skyclan’s scent suddenly grew much, much stronger. Star froze, eyes going wide as she recognized the scent of cat. A lot of cats.

Fox-dung. She knew this was a bad idea! Star’s heart thundered in her chest, but she did her best to remain calm and cover her fear-scent. She turned about a few times, and caught sight of a rather large bush, the leaves recovered enough to provide adequate cover. She dashed toward it, ducking underneath the branches and curling herself around the main trunk in an effort to stay hidden.

Not a moment later, cats appeared in her line of sight, and Star had to resist gasping. 

It wasn’t just one cat, out on a walk. This was a whole patrol, five cats all conversing with each other. Leading the pack was an older she-cat with dark tortoiseshell fur interspersed with patches of white. A younger cat trailed just off to her side, a light brown tabby tom around Flightpaw’s age. He had the same eyes as her, she realized, a pale green that glinted almost silver in the moonlight. 

Was he Flightpaw’s littermate? Star tilted her head a little in thought. It was certainly possible. She made a mental note to bring up family to her next time, if she got out of this. 

“This looks like a good spot to split up,” said a third cat, coming around the tortoiseshell’s other flank. She was rather small, like Firepaw, with pure white fur. “I can smell a mouse around here somewhere.”

The tortoiseshell nodded, but paused, mouth opening to scent the wind. Star froze. 

“I smell cat,” she said, turning to her companions. 

“Me too,” said the third adult, a pale brown tom. Star almost jolted in surprise when she saw the last tom come into full view. It was Firepaw; she’d recognize that sandy ginger pelt anywhere. “Rogue, perhaps?”

“Maybe,” said the tortoiseshell, frowning. “But not many of them if there are. One, probably. Tinycloud, how about you and I track the scent to the border? Make sure this cat’s gone. Nettlesplash, you can stay with the apprentices.” 

The pale brown cat nodded, and the two she-cats took off in the opposite direction—the direction Star had come from. She let out a long, slow breath as the two whisked out of sight. That was good. She’d been by recently and quickly; not long enough for them to notice the trail getting older until they reached the border.

“Will they be okay, Nettlesplash?” the youngest tom asked, turning to the older tom nervously. He just chuckled, running his tail down the younger’s back soothingly. 

“Of course,” he replied. “Cherrytail and Tinycloud are very capable warriors. How about I pick up where your mentor left off? That way you won’t fall behind on your night hunting.” He turned to Firepaw, continuing. “Will you be okay if you try hunting on your own? You can come with us if you like.”

“No,” Firepaw replied, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Nettlesplash nodded. “Take care then. Holler if you need me.”

Firepaw just flicked an ear, opening his mouth as he scented the air. Nettlesplash gestured at the younger, still unnamed tom, and together they left him behind, disappearing into the half-regrown undergrowth. 

Star let out a long, slow breath. Okay. Now she just needed to wait for Firepaw to leave, then she could get out of here and pretend this had never happened—

“I know you’re here, you know,” said Firepaw, looking straight at her hiding spot.

Star jolted in her spot, branches pricking in her fur as she met Firepaw’s bright blue eyes (blue eyes, so similar to that tortoiseshell…) burning holes into her own green irises. 

“Look, I’m not looking to cause trouble here…” Star began quickly, eyeing the trees in the direction of the border. If she bolted, she could maybe escape before Firepaw called that Nettlesplash guy, and from there she’d only need to avoid the she-cats—

“I’m not going to call Nettlesplash or Owlpaw,” Firepaw cut in, sitting down and curling his tail around his paws. Star narrowed her eyes at him. He certainly still seemed nervous, ears flicking between her and the direction the other two toms had gone, but he wasn’t cowering either, like he had in their first meeting. “At least, not unless you want to attack me. Come on, I want to talk.”

“Someone’s grown a spine,” Star drawled. “How do I know you’re trying to lure me into a trap?”

Firepaw paused, tail twitching, then answered: “We wouldn’t have needed to. Five on one isn’t good odds for anyone.”

God, she was going to regret this. Stifling the tremor in her tail, Star slowly got up, and entered the open air. She swiveled her own ears, but the other four cats were long out of earshot. 

“I’m Firepaw,” said Firepaw. Why was he introducing himself? Names hardly mattered when he was Skyclan. “A Skyclan apprentice. What is your name?”

Star heavily debated not answering him, but, well. They were here talking to each other, right? What harm could a name do?

“Star,” she said shortly, and noted Firepaw’s mildly surprised reaction with interest. “What? Have you heard of me before?”

“No,” Firepaw shook his head. “Star is just a sacred name in Skyclan. I was surprised.”

“Please, that hokey religion of yours?” Star hissed. What, was this tom really trying to convert her? What was wrong with him?

“Look, I just need to ask you a question,” Firepaw shot back with a huff, but Star’s hiss had clearly frightened him on some level, the fur along his spine spiking as he glanced behind him. 

And Star realized something. 

She was here trying to find information on Ginny’s kits, kits that she doubted she’d be able to find, much less rescue. And here was a cat, from Skyclan, who was clearly trying to talk to her. 

“I’ll answer a question of yours if you answer one of mine,” she finally responded. “If the information doesn’t pass beyond the two of us.”

It was a flimsy requirement; there was no way for Star to stop Firepaw from blabbing about her the moment she crossed the border. But it was worth a shot. Skyclan was all about indoctrination; maybe Firepaw wouldn’t risk telling in case he got in trouble. 

“I won’t!” Said tom was saying, too sincere for Star to think it real. “Promise! Please, I just need to know if Flightpaw’s okay.”

Star blinked. If there was a question she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. 

“Of course she is,” she replied. “We aren’t murderers.” Firepaw’s ears lowered a little, and she rolled her eyes. Of course he wouldn’t believe her; who knows what horror stories he’d been raised on. “My turn.”

“I’ll tell you if I know the answer.”

He better. Star took a deep breath, then spoke all at once. “Do you have any outsider cats in your clan? Cats who would have been taken in when they were one or two moons old; they’d be around five moons now.”

Firepaw tilted his head, surprised in the same manner Star had been. He thought for a moment, and Star unsheathed her claws, digging them into the dirt. He had to know. There wasn’t any reason for him to lie, was there?

“Oh! Yes, we do!” Firepaw exclaimed, drawing Star’s attention back to her. “Violetkit and Twigkit, right? They were found back when I was still in the nursery.”

Star could feel her shoulders slumping in relief. Violetkit and Twigkit. Odd names, but it made sense, she supposed. They’d been so young when they’d been given up, of course Skyclan would have renamed them. What had Ginny called them again? Jamie, Twitch, and…

Trigger. There’d been three kits. Firepaw had only mentioned two. 

“There was a third kit,” she said slowly. “There were three.”

Firepaw just shrugged helplessly. “I don’t remember anything about a third one. Why do you want to know, anyways?”

Star narrowed her eyes at him. Once again, there was heavy debate in her mind on just how much information she should give him. If she mentioned Ginny, or even just knowing the mother, what if she risked the safety of the kits? Surely they’d be pulling their own weight by now; but they were still too young to be that much of an asset. Not enough to warrant keeping cats with Cyanide blood in the clan. 

“Reasons,” she said shortly, then elaborated as the lie took shape in her mind. “News travels quickly between rogues, and they tend to actually like Cyanide, you know.”

Firepaw narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, his ears pricked, and he turned around, listening to something Star couldn’t quite make out. 

“We’ve been talking for too long,” he said suddenly, voice turning breathy. “You should go before the others get back. I can explain not finding prey, but not meeting with you.”

Right. Star had nearly forgotten about the danger in the rush of finding information about Ginny’s kits. She nodded, standing up to turn and leave.

“Wait!” Firepaw interrupted her, and Star paused, fur pricking about her spine. What did he want now? “I can find more information about the third kit.” Star turned back to him, surprised. What was up with this guy? Why was he so freely offering something like this? “Just… if I do, you have to promise to keep an eye on Flightpaw for me.” His voice wobbled. “I know I’m not strong, and that it’s my fault you guys got her. I just need to know if she’ll be okay.”

…Well. He wasn’t asking for any sensitive information, and Star could use anything about the kits that she could get. 

“Fine,” she responded, hardly believing herself as she did so. Her, the daughter of Darktail, fraternizing with a Skyclan cat? If anyone found out, she’d be skinned alive. 

But the kits. Always the kits. 

Firepaw just smiled in relief, ears swiveling behind him as he hurried to continue: “There’s a fallen tree at the border near where you came in. Meet me there three nights from now. I can hear Nettlesplash coming back; you’ve got to go!”

Star didn’t need to be told twice. In a flash, she was gone, racing back to the border and from this hairbrained adventure of hers.

Chapter Text

Hawkpaw was eating at the base of the gorge when Featherpaw finally stumbled out of the apprentice’s den that morning, yawning and stretching. He watched idly as his sister lazily snatched a small mouse off the fresh-kill pile, meandering over to plop down next to him and Birdwing, who were sharing a vole. 

“Look who finally graced us with her mighty presence,” Birdwing chuckled as she approached, and Featherpaw just rolled her eyes, humming faintly as she took a large bite out of the mouse. 

“I was tired from yesterday,” she hummed between bites. “Bite me.”

“Rockshade finally let you sleep in a little, huh?” Hawkpaw added, grinning as Featherpaw just scowled at him, though there was a certain lightness behind her eyes, empty of true malice. It was nice to hang out with her like this. With Tawnypaw gone, it was refreshing to have her around when Rockshade wasn’t working her in the ground. 

“Have you guys got anything going on today?” Featherpaw asked, twitching an ear as she watched the camp bustling around them. Brambleclaw and Shrewtooth were sunning themselves in the cool morning air, talking quietly, while the squeal of kits permeated the air as Bellapaw and Rileypaw played with Violetkit, Twigkit, Tadpolekit, and Shadekit. Firepaw was up, surprisingly enough; he’d been out on the Moonhigh patrol the night before, and so far he seemed to be the only member up this early. He was sitting near the nursery, conversing with Clovertail and Mintfur.

“I’ve got a border patrol soon,” Hawkpaw shrugged. “But not for a little while. Leafstar’s meeting with Billystorm right now, so I’m off until she gets done.”

“I’m waiting for Hollyfrost,” Birdwing grinned. “I asked Sparrowpelt, and he agreed to let him and I go on a hunting patrol.”

“Ah,” Featherpaw sent Birdwing a look. “ Quality alone time, eh?”

“What? No!” Birdwing exclaimed, embarrassment rushing off of her with such strength that Hawkpaw had to blink for a moment to try and center himself. “Featherpaw, we’re not even mates yet!”

“Yet.”

“Starclan’s name…” Birdwing groaned, and Hawkpaw laughed out loud at her predicament. “This is what I get for hanging out with apprentices.”

“What, do you think Juniperpelt would have been any better?” Hawkpaw giggled. Birdwing rolled her eyes. 

“Please, it’s been so quiet in the warriors’ den since he left. I savor the peace without him. Honeytail would get me, at least.” 

Hawkpaw nodded, but he wasn’t blind to the worry that flecked off of Birdwing at the mention of her sister. He had to agree with the feeling. Honeytail had just been recovering from Bouncefire’s death, and had been ecstatic when she’d received Flightpaw as an apprentice. For around two weeks, until Cyanide had taken her. Now she was right back where she’d started. With Juniperpelt gone and Sandyclaw mentoring Bellapaw, it made sense why she sought them out so often. 

Before he could find a good way to reply, Shrewtooth called out to announce the arrival of the Daylight Warriors, and Birdwing was up, blue eyes searching until Hollyfrost’s dark pelt crested the top of the gorge, following close behind Macgyver. Ebonyclaw was noticeably absent from the group. The news had passed the other day about her pregnancy, but it was still odd to not see her at Billystorm’s side.

“That’s my leave, then,” Birdwing said, standing up and stretching briefly before eyeing them. “No more funny business, you two. I’m trying to make a good impression on him.”

Hawkpaw just shrugged, while Featherpaw just made a face that was entirely too innocent for it to be sincere. The black warrior just rolled her eyes and bounded away, joining Harrybrook to meet the warriors part way up the path. 

“I did mean it,” Featherpaw huffed, turning back to her mouse as she continued to eat. “It’s only a matter of time before Birdwing finally gets the courage to just ask Hollyfrost to be her mate.”

“She’s been dancing around it ever since he became a warrior,” Hawkpaw chuckled, picking at the last of the vole. “I think she wants to wait until they’re a little older before she actually confesses.”

“At this rate Hollyfrost is going to hear about it from Ashenpaw rather than Birdwing. That little she-cat is such a chatterbox; once she finds out, it won’t be long until the whole clan’s heard about it.”

Hawkpaw just shook his head, standing up to go bury his prey. Raising his tail in farewell, he jumped down towards the swirling banks of the river. He bent down once he’d found a good spot, and hurriedly scooped out a hole in the loose dirt and buried the remains, sending a thought of thanks to Starclan as he did so. 

“Hawkpaw! Watch out!” 

Hawkpaw was just shaking the dirt out of his claws when he heard Rileypaw’s warning, and he had just enough time to turn around to catch a squealing Violetkit to the chest. He stumbled against her weight, but didn’t fall as she drew away. A moment later, Twigkit flashed by, and Hawkpaw lunged forward, snatching her up by the scruff before she got too close to the river. 

“Careful!” He exclaimed, setting Twigkit next to her sister, both of whom were giggling. “I thought Clovertail told you not to get so close to the water!”

“We wanted to say hi!” said Violetkit, ignoring his scolding. 

“Sorry!” Hawkpaw looked up to see Rileypaw skidding in after them. The poor tom was gasping for breath, but his eyes were twinkling with fondness. “I tried to tell them to wait, but they were convinced that they had to say hello now.”

Hawkpaw just laughed, nudging a squirming Twigkit towards the gorge. 

“Come on, you two, you’re technically out of camp. Clovertail will have my hide if either of you fall in the river.”

“We won’t!” Violetkit protested, hopping in place. “We’re not that close!”

“Tell that to Sandyclaw,” Hawkpaw chuckled, shaking his head. “He said the same thing when he was a kit.”

“ Sandyclaw fell in?!” Twigkit exclaimed, and even Rileypaw looked a little surprised at the tidbit. Hawkpaw nodded, doing his best to look sage as he continued.

“Uh-huh. I was little at the time, but I remember Clovertail scolding him good after he got the dunk. I’m sure you can ask him yourself.” Twin grins appeared on the kits’ faces, and then they were off again, scampering up the incline to go find the poor tom.

“Oh, he’s going to hate that,” Rileypaw giggled, tail twitching. 

“I know,” Hawkpaw purred, the two of them making their way up the hill more slowly. It seemed that, above them, Violetkit and Twigkit had roped in Tadpolekit and Shadekit to their shenanigans, the four kits scrambling up towards the warrior’s den. They left behind a rather harried-looking Bellapaw, who let them go in favor of waiting for her brother. 

“What exactly did you tell them?” She said levelly, eyeing them. Rileypaw balked at her gaze. 

“I didn’t say anything! Hawkpaw set them after your mentor.”

Bellapaw snorted disbelievingly, and Hawkpaw hurried in to back the younger apprentice up.

“I may have told them about Sandyclaw falling in the river to get them back in camp,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he saw the cat in question stagger out of the den, Tadpolekit practically attached to one leg and the others bouncing around them. Bellapaw sniggered.

“Hawkpaw! It’s time for our patrol!”

Hawkpaw turned around at the sound of Harrybrook’s voice. The tom was standing down by the Rockpile, and it seemed that Leafstar was finally out of her meeting, sitting by her son’s side. It looked like Shrewtooth would be joining them, too, the skinny black tom not more than a shadow in the shade of the larger rocks.

“That’s my cue,” he said, nodding to the other apprentices. Rileypaw just laughed.

“Avoiding the consequences of your own actions, more like,” he teased, and Hawkpaw just rolled his eyes, jumping down to meet the other three warriors. 

“It’s good to have you with us, Hawkpaw,” Leafstar greeted him as he arrived, a slight purr in her voice as she spoke, eyes flickering up to Sandyclaw, who looked a mouse-length away from throwing Twigkit down the gorge. “Causing mischief with the kits?”

“Better doing mischief with a warrior than by the river,” he replied, tone light. “Violetkit and Twigkit tried to mob me down there.”

“They’ll be apprentices soon, won’t they?” Harrybrook put in, looking thoughtful. “They aren’t much younger than Plumwillow’s litter.”

“I might just have to hold them back; at this rate, we’re going to run out of warriors to train our kits!” Leafstar laughed. She turned and began walking down towards the forest, and Hawkpaw and the others made to follow suit. “Though I know you’ve been eyeing Twigkit, Harry. You aren’t that subtle.”

Harrybrook spluttered in indignation, while Shrewtooth and Hawkpaw laughed as they made their way across the fallen tree. Leafstar waited for them to finish crossing before she continued on into the treeline, and Hawkpaw hurried to catch up with her.

“Do you already have mentors in mind for them?” He asked once he was at her side. Amusement flicked off Leafstar’s pelt as she answered.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. Sparrowpelt and I still have to make a final decision, but we’ve narrowed the choices down quite a bit.” She chuckled, tilting her head. “Not that I have many options! I really might just hold them back the half moon until you and your littermates graduate. While it’s a good thing that we have so many young, we need able-bodied warriors without apprentices, too.”

The conversation continued for a while past that, with Shrewtooth suggesting Plumwillow and Tinycloud as potential mentors. Leafstar kept her mouth shut on any specific cats, however, fondness and amusement flickering off of her. Harrybrook on the other hand, was more reserved, hope and dejection whirling off of him as he scented the air.

Harrybrook would make a good mentor, Hawkpaw thought, especially for someone as hyperactive and curious as Twigkit. He was reserved, but well acquainted with the energy and cleaning up the mess of more energetic cats, like his sister, Stormheart. And if he really wanted to be a mentor, Hawkpaw was sure that he’d put his all into it.

He was about to open his mouth to vouch for Harrybrook when Leafstar raised her tail, prompting them all into silence. Right, they were nearing the border, and Leafstar was still having them do their border patrols in the canopy. 

As usual, Leafstar leapt up first. Hawkpaw let Harrybrook go before him, then went up himself while Shrewtooth brought up the rear. It took him a moment to balance, but when Leafstar jumped to the next branch, he was able and ready to follow once Harrybrook went over. 

Time blurred together as they traveled, as it usually did when on border patrols. Since he was an apprentice, Leafstar didn’t let him go down to set the markers, so Hawkpaw was just left to his own thoughts while the warriors went down to the base of the tree every once in a while. The forest itself was quiet, the bark flaking underneath their paws as they went. There were a few budding leaves here and there, but overall, the fire’s effects still held strong, and Hawkpaw couldn’t help but feel just as exposed in the trees as he did on the ground. 

Sometime later, Hawkpaw looked up just in time to see Harrybrook frozen in front of him. Scrabbling silently to just barely avoid a collision, he looked out to see Leafstar tucking herself close to the trunk of the next tree over, eyes trained on something on the ground.

Hawkpaw followed her gaze, and his breath caught in his throat when he saw the rogues.

There were perhaps a half dozen of them, all burly and looking rather eager for a fight, in Hawkpaw’s opinion. A black and white tom led them, and Hawkpaw recognized him almost immediately as Darktail, the rogues’ leader. It was hard to forget him, when the tom had tried to have him killed over the identity of his father.

He blinked in mild surprise when he realized that he’d never asked Brambleclaw why Darktail was so interested in him. He resolved to ask him about it later, once he got the chance. 

The other cats behind him were mostly unfamiliar, but Hawkpaw recognized the large white tom as the same cat who had attacked him the night Ravenpaw and his family had arrived. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember his name, but he very well remembered the sting of his claws. 

Leafstar twitched her tail in a signal for them to stay put, and Hawkpaw nodded to himself. The rogues hadn’t technically crossed the border yet, and it looked like they hadn’t been spotted from their position from above. 

Hawkpaw watched with baited breath as Leafstar jumped to the next tree, closer to the waiting rogues. This time, Darktail’s eyes flickered upwards to meet her, and Hawkpaw suppressed a shiver at the malicious glee running through his pelt. It was different from the pure hatred he’d sensed off of Tigerstar, in the Dark Forest. This was… quieter. 

Darktail ran cold, it seemed, while Tigerstar had run hot. Two very different kinds of evil.

Hawkpaw hoped that Leafstar knew what she was doing.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Speaking of, his mentor was speaking, the strength of her voice startling him after so long in silence. 

“Don’t you worry, now,” Darktail responded, and from the tone of his voice, you might have mistaken him for greeting an old friend. “We’re only here to talk.”

Leafstar’s expression didn’t change. “You’d forgive me for not believing you,” she said smoothly, though her tail swung almost agitatedly behind her. 

“You are the leader of this clan, no?” Darktail hummed, sitting down. “Leafstar? Let us talk face-to-face, as equals. I’m sure you would like to hear what I have to say.”

“I’m quite fine where I am, thank you,” Leafstar responded evenly. “I know your kind. You gave up any semblance of trust a long time ago.”

If he was bothered by her rebuttal, Darktail didn’t show it, just shrugging as he gestured at the cats behind him, who backed up a little to give him room. 

“My name is Darktail, leader of Cyanide,” he announced. “And I believe, before we continue our battle, that it is necessary that I extend an olive branch to you.”

Harrybrook shifted in front of him, and Hawkpaw couldn’t help but echo the feeling of confusion seeping off of him. Darktail had already attacked them, several times, and killed cats on top of it? What exactly was he doing, going on about an olive branch?

“You see,” Darktail was still talking, and Hawkpaw forced himself to pay careful attention. “You have some cats that I am looking for. Brambleclaw, Cherrytail, and Eliza, though I believe the last goes by one of your warrior names now. Perhaps you do not yet know, but those three have committed grievous crimes against us. If you would be willing to return them to Cyanide’s care for proper punishment, I’m sure we can come to a… peaceful resolution.”

Hawkpaw could feel Shrewtooth glancing at him in surprise, and once again he shared the sentiment, the question from earlier returning to his mind. His parents and Seedtail had been involved with Darktail and Cyanide? When, and why did Darktail want this ‘punishment’ for them so badly? 

But Leafstar shared none of the confusion and surprise swirling around her clanmates. Hawkpaw blinked in surprise as he dug deeper, realizing that she’d expected this? What? How did she know what was going on? 

Wait. Leafstar was the clan’s leader. Hawkpaw blinked a few times to clear his head. Of course, Cherrytail and Brambleclaw would have kept her updated, even if, for whatever reason, they didn’t want the whole clan to know about something. 

“What crimes?” When she responded, Leafstar was clearly offended, scoffing down at Darktail in derision. “Being clanborn? You cannot hate a cat for being born in Thunderclan, Darktail, whether he knew your father or not.”

Hawkpaw froze as, ever so slowly, Harrybrook turned to stare at him, dark amber eyes wide.

What?

What was this about being born Thunderclan?

Leafstar couldn’t be referring to Cherrytail; Hawkpaw knew for a fact that she and Sparrowpelt had been born kittypets near the gorge. And not Seedtail either; she was also a former kittypet. But…

Featherpaw’s question from last moon suddenly echoed in his head.

I never was told Brambleclaw’s name as a loner, was I?

“The clans live on a model of indoctrination and trickery,” Darktail shot back. “You, of all cats, should know that. That alone makes them worth destroying.”

“No.” 

A long pause extended after Leafstar’s declaration. Flickers of anger flecked off of Darktail’s pelt, but his blue eyes remained calm and cool, like balming ice to the dark flames of Leafstar’s amber.

“Well, I suppose if you wish this to be the hill you die on,” Darktail shrugged, glancing over at Hawkpaw and the rest of the border patrol. He shivered at the sight of those ice blue eyes raking across his pelt. “Cyanide’s ranks will always be open to those who listen to reason. And Hawkpaw?” Those eyes glinted again, and this time, he flattened his ears at being addressed personally. “Tell your parents I said hello.”

With that, he turned around, gesturing with his tail. As he passed them, the other cats followed, as Hawkpaw watched them disappear with baited breath.

Leafstar did not move until the last bunch of Washington’s fur went out of sight. Even then, she only let out a long sigh, suddenly very tired as she glanced back over at her apprentice and warriors. 

“Leafstar?” Shrewtooth asked slowly, tilting his head. “What do you mean, ‘a cat born in Thunderclan?’”

Leafstar just shook head, muttering quietly to herself as she jumped back over to them.

“Brambleclaw was born in Thunderclan,” She said shortly. “And that is why Darktail hates him so. The rest is not my story to tell, I’m afraid. You will have to ask him yourself for the rest of the story.”

Hawkpaw blinked, digesting the information, then exclaimed: “I’m half Thunderclan?!”

Harrybrook snorted, and amusement flickered off of Leafstar’s pelt as she shook her head.

“No, Hawkpaw,” she corrected gently. “Brambleclaw is a member of Skyclan now, and was when you were born. Now,” she returned her attention to Shrewtooth and Harrybrook. “I would request that you two keep quiet about this development for now. Let’s give Hawkpaw and his siblings time to ask and learn without the rest of the clan breathing down their necks.” 

Hawkpaw blinked in gratitude, and Leafstar nodded back at him.

“Of course,” Harrybrook responded, dipping his head as Shrewtooth voiced his own assent.

“Then let’s get back to camp,” Leafstar said, bunching her legs to make the next jump. “We’ll finish the patrol later; I need to speak with Sparrowpelt.”

Chapter Text

“You all have really weird names.”

Tawnypaw looked up from where she’d been pressing a makeshift oak leaf poultice into Juniperpelt’s wound. Lily was looking down at them, green eyes sparkling with curiosity as she spoke. Perched on the windowsill of the twoleg nest, she was still half inside as she regarded them.  

“We are weird,” Juniperpelt laughed, though it trailed off into a hiss when Tawnypaw pressed a little too hard into his wound. Tawnypaw winced, but just whispered ‘sorry’ and moved on. Oak leaves were common and good to stop infection, but nowhere near as effective as marigold or goldenrod, neither of which she’d seen hide or tail off in the maze of Twoleg nests. She couldn’t risk any of the potency going to waste. “We’re part of a group of wild cats, and the weird names are part of the tradition.”

“They aren’t that weird,” Tawnypaw muttered, flicking him with her tail. Juniperpelt snorted.

“Takes one to know one,” he snarked, and she hit him harder this time round.

Over a day had passed since Tawnypaw, Juniperpelt, and Barley had taken refuge in Lily’s twoleg nest. The kittypet had been exceedingly nice to them, letting them eat her food and stay in the back garden. Tawnypaw personally had found the hard kernels tough and bland, but food was food, and Juniperpelt was more than happy to take her up on the offer.

They hadn’t been able to find Waspwhisker or Seedtail. Barley and Tawnypaw had retraced their steps back to the wooded area from that first night (Lily had called it a park) , but they’d only been able to find faint traces of their scents here and there, nearly overwhelmed with dog. There’d been no sign of blood or a fight, but not enough to track them, either. 

Even now, Tawnypaw’s paws itched, fear pricking in her gut. They were barely a few days out in their journey, and already their patrol was split in two. Surely they wouldn’t have to turn back, right?

“Oh!” Lily’s exclamation drew her out of her thoughts. “You’re one of those gorge cats! Right?”

“Well, that’s one way to put it,” Juniperpelt chuckled loosely as Tawnypaw applied cobweb to his wound, checking it over. It was scabbing over well, and there wasn’t any sign of infection, but he was going to have to keep away from any strenuous activity for a day or two. Which, considering that he was their only able-bodied warrior at the moment, wasn’t very comforting. “You’ve heard about us all the way out here?”

“Oh, us housecats are all terrible gossips,” Lily giggled. “If there’s news, it’ll pass through here like wildfire! I’ve heard about you, but never seen one before.” She peered down at them, green eyes glinting with curiosity. “Is it true that you actually eat rats?”

Tawnypaw resisted the urge to gag. “No!” She exclaimed. “Ew! Where did you hear that from?”

“It’s probably just a twisting of our battle against the rats,” Juniperpelt put in, stretching as Tawnypaw drew away from his wound. “Fighting, eating, close enough when it’s gone through the rumor mill like that.”

“You fought rats?” Lily echoed, sounding even more in awe. “I could never.”

Tawnypaw opened her mouth to reply, to echo the stories she’d be taught as a kit, but was cut off as Barley jumped down into the yard. Several round, fuzzy-looking leaves were in his mouth, and she let out a heavy sigh of relief at the sight.

“You were right, Tawnypaw,” Barley rumbled as he approached, setting down the leaves. “I found some of the plants you described a few houses over. Is this enough?”

“More than,” Tawnypaw purred, taking the leaves from Barley and setting them on the ground, separating them into piles. “This is perfect!”

“What are the leaves for?” Lily asked, ears twitching in the direction of the plant. 

“This is Lamb’s Ear,” she replied, glad that something was going right today. This, at least, was something she knew. “It helps to give a cat strength, so it’s good for journeying or helping someone recover from a wound.” At that, she passed one of the piles—and very noticeably, the biggest one—to Juniperpelt. “Here you go! Eat up.”

“Why do I have to eat the most?” Juniperpelt grumbled, but it seemed he was complaining just to complain, for he lapped up the leaves with a wince a few heartbeats after. Tawnypaw nodded to herself, passing a few of the leaves to Barley and taking the smallest amount for herself. 

“What exactly do you think we should do now?” Barley asked after he was done, sitting up to groom his face a little. Tawnypaw didn’t reply immediately, even though she could feel his eyes on her pelt, nearly burning. 

That was the thing, wasn’t it? She wanted to help, and to keep on going, but what could they do without Waspwhisker or Seedtail? She couldn’t hunt; her “lesson” that she hadn’t even finished the other night was proof enough of that. Barley was an elder, and Juniperpelt was injured on top of it all. His wound wasn’t journey-ending, not unless it got infected, but it still wasn’t doing them any favors.

“We need to keep on going.”

Juniperpelt’s words, more a statement than a suggestion, drew Tawnypaw out of her thoughts. She turned to the older tom, who was now following Barley’s lead and gently grooming himself. 

“It’s simple,” he said with a shrug. “Starclan wants us in the old territories, and I doubt they didn’t foresee this situation coming up. I bet we can make it if we follow the river! Surely we’re past Cyanide’s range now.”

“It would cut down on our travel time quite significantly, if we took the river,” Barley hummed in low agreement. “As long as your shoulder holds up, and the loners are friendly.”

“It will! I’m already feeling better.” With that, Juniperpelt rolled said shoulder, moving the poultice Tawnypaw had applied in a way that made her wince. “See? I’ll just have to avoid fighting dogs for the next few days.”

“Where even is the river from here?” Tawnypaw put in. “I mean, I want to go on as much as you guys do, but Seedtail was the one who knew the way through the Twolegplace. I could barely find my way back to the park!”

“I know where the river is.”

Tawnypaw jerked her head up at Lily. She’d nearly forgotten that the kittypet was still there, in all honesty, and she blinked as the other she-cat continued. 

“You do?” Juniperpelt asked, tilting his head. 

“Of course! It’s a bit far from here, but I’ve gone to the edge of town and to the river a few times. I could take you there.”

“Really?!” Tawnypaw exclaimed, springing to her feet as hope leapt up in her chest. Could they really still do this?

“Of course!” Lily purred, nodding. “This is going to be the best story ever, my friends are going to be so jealous.”

“Seedtail and Waspwhisker can keep out of trouble,” Barley said slowly, drawing their attention back to him. “If they decide to come after us, our destinations will be the same.”

“Then it’s decided!” Juniperpelt declared, nodding. “We’ll go to the river and follow it to the original territories! We’ll find the Moonstone and get Starclan’s message to save the clan; we’ll be heroes!”

“You guys are weird,” Lily giggled, but stood up, jumping down from the windowsill and gesturing to them. “Come on, morning’s the best time to get going if you want to get to the river. If we hurry, we can avoid most of the Housefolk before they start moving about.”

“Alright then,” Tawnypaw stood up, stretching briefly before stepping forwards. “Lead the way, Lily.”

“Gotcha!”

With that, Lily trotted over to the edge of the Twoleg nests’ yard, jumping up  and landing on the top of the fence with little difficulty. Tawnypaw made the jump even easier, Skyclan’s genes no doubt lending a helping hand. After her went Juniperpelt, who pulled himself up with a grunt, rolling his shoulder as he balanced himself. Finally, Barley followed them, coming up with a little difficulty.

As Lily took off, Tawnypaw took a few minutes to take in her surroundings. The Twolegplace seemed to go on for forever , the peaks of the nests poking out as far as she could see. If she looked forwards, in the direction Lily was taking them, she could just see the tips of some forest trees, but it was a while off. 

Juniperpelt and Lily soon struck up a conversation, but Tawnypaw found herself deep in thought as they traveled, worries starting to swirl in her belly as she walked. Were they really too far away to avoid Cyanide? What if there were other rogue cats? Would Seedtail and Waspwhisker be okay? The questions whirled in her mind. She’d been so confident when they’d left, but now everything just seemed to be falling apart. 

“Care to share your thoughts, young one?” 

Barley’s low rumble admittedly startled Tawnypaw, and she stumbled, wobbling on the fence a little before catching her balance and turning back to the elder tom. Her ears twitched in embarrassment as she responded to him.

“Just worried, I guess,” she murmured, keeping her gaze on the path ahead of them. Juniperpelt had just said something that made Lily throw her head back and laugh. “Everything was so clear when we started, and now we’re down our two best warriors. Just—can we make the journey with just us?”

Barley hummed, pausing as they reached the edge of the fence line. Juniperpelt and Lily jumped down first, waiting at the lip of the upcoming thunderpath for them to follow. Tawnypaw grunted a little as her paws hit the tough ground, while Juniperpelt motioned for the patrol to wait for a window to pass. 

The elder didn’t answer until they were safely across the path and making their way down the street, Lily once again taking the front. Juniperpelt trailed a little behind her this time, ears tilted backwards to catch his words.

“It’s easy to get intimidated on journeys like this,” Barley conceded, dipping his head. “I certainly don’t begrudge you that, young one. After spending all of your time in Echosong’s medicine den, you’re probably used to things sticking to a plan, aren’t you?”

Tawnypaw paused at that, opening her mouth to respond before she stopped to digest his words more. As usual, the elder had a point. Echosong did regiment her den and expectations of what would occur within. Even when their cave was overflowing with patients, Echosong usually had some preconceived plan in place for them to follow. In the end, she just nodded in agreement. 

“And I’ll have you remember, Ravenpaw and I made the journey well enough,” Barley continued at her assent, taking on a more humorous tone. “With Riley and Bella in tow—now that, I think, was an achievement.”

“That’s for sure,” Juniperpelt chuckled, and Tawnypaw shook her head, remembering how overeager the two younger apprentices had been to learn back when she’d first met them. It was somewhat dampened now, since they were integrated into the clan, but the two littermates were good with the kits for a reason. 

“You’re one to talk,” was what she finally settled on, and Juniperpelt gasped in faux-offense as the conversation continued. 

“The trick is simply accepting the risk—with the added bonus of knowing that most of the time, the plan you enter with won’t last you through to the end.”

“And so we wing it!” Juniperpelt declared, nodding solemnly. “It was the same for Brackenfall and I, back when we were traveling. I’ve found it’s best to go in with objectives and a loose plan. Go to the twolegplace to survive leafbare, follow the river to get to the old territories—it’s all the same, in the end.”

“I guess that’s a good point,” Tawnypaw hummed, mulling the advice over. Barley did have a point in that being an elder didn’t disqualify him from helping to provide for the group, and Juniperpelt’s wound wasn’t debilitating. Still, though, she couldn’t help the doubt curling in her gut, yet had no way to really voice it. 

“It’s alright to be nervous,” Barley consoled her, brushing his flank against hers. “You’ve never been out this far from Skyclan territory before. I remember the first time I ventured away from my kithood home, and how nervous I got. You’ll get used to it.”

Tawnypaw smiled over at him, and nodded determinedly. Barley was right. Sure, she was nervous, but that was just because this was such a big undertaking!

“A lot of loners pass through the area,” Lily said, glancing back at them. “And they travel fine. I’m sure you and your friends will get to wherever you guys are going!”

“You bet we will!” Juniperpelt nodded, and the conversation paused once more as they crossed yet another Thunderpath. They were getting easier now, Tawnypaw noted with a bit of pleasure—she hardly had to think as she raced over to the other side, the thunderpath mostly bare of monsters in the early light. “It’ll be hard, but we can do it!”

Tawnypaw couldn’t help but laugh at the optimism, bounding forwards to bump at his good shoulder. Juniperpelt just bumped her back, winking at her, and she shook her head. 

“Oh, thank Starclan we have such a fearless warrior to guard us!” She teased, and got a harder shove for that one. 

Conversation lulled after that, the mood nevertheless light as they continued down through the twolegplace. Lily knew the layout well, and though Tawnypaw found it almost dizzying to try and keep track of the endless nests, she never faltered, giving out directions easily. Juniperpelt only kept a slight limp as they walked, keeping up with them in a manner that eased Tawnypaw over the worries for his wound. 

“Okay, let’s try jumping up here,” Lily called out, snapping Tawnypaw out of the slight daze she had fallen into. The kittypet had stopped them just shy of another fence, and she leapt up, making the jump with only minor difficulty. Tawnypaw went next, and followed her gaze, sweeping out towards the horizon, where the sun was just passing its zenith.

She gasped as she caught sight of a streak of green cutting through the never-ending peaks, bright against the cool colors. The trees rose high into the sky, and she grinned over at Lily, who purred as Juniperpelt came up behind them. 

“See? Not too bad,” the kittypet said. “Those trees mark the river, so you guys should be good from here. As long as there isn’t any flooding—which there shouldn’t be, it’s too late in the year for the big rainstorms—it’s a clear shot as far down as I can see.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s an easy path,” Juniperpelt nodded in agreement, Barley humming as he joined them. “Thank you, Lily, you really saved our hides there.”

“It was a fun adventure; I’m glad I could help out,” Lily responded, dipping her head at him. “Come back with some stories, won’t you?”

“We’ll do our best,” Tawnypaw said, blinking gratefully at the kittypet. Barley echoed his own thanks, and Lily raised her tail in farewell, Juniperpelt taking the lead as they started down the fence’s line. Tawnypaw glanced back a few times, seeing Lily watch them go for a time before turning back the way she came. 

Silence reigned for a few minutes, the group’s eyes trained on the swaying branches slowly approaching. 

“She sure was nice,” Tawnypaw sighed.

“It’s a shame she doesn’t live closer to the clan,” Juniperpelt agreed. “Or else I would have asked her to join us as a daylight warrior. She certainly had the desire for adventure for it.”

“We were fortunate,” Barley put in, leveling them with a knowing look. “Most kittypets are not so open to seeing cats like us. She was very kind to open her nest to strangers in need.”

“Now that is very true. Starclan guides us to the right places.”

Tawnypaw just shook her head as they continued on. There were a few more nests until the fences came to an end, and the group jumped down. Grass awaited at the bottom, and she  sighed at the cool feeling of natural growth under her paws.

“Trees, my friends, it’s been so long,” she declared solemnly, sucking in a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Some of the leaves were just beginning to turn yellow, signaling the onset of leaf-fall, which gave the whole scene a golden hue.

“I think I can hear water!” Juniperpelt exclaimed, and a moment later he bolted off into the undergrowth, leaving his companions in the dust.

“Juniperpelt!” Tawnypaw found herself shouting after him. “Your shoulder! I told you not to strain it!”

But the young warrior was already gone. Tawnypaw sighed and burst off after him, while Barley just laughed. Through the undergrowth and past a few trees, she too could make out the tell-tale sign of running water—Starclan, she’d forgotten how comforting the sound of the river was. 

She emerged just in time to see Juniperpelt prancing on the riverbank, which rose a tail-length or so above the waterline. The warrior grinned at her, tail flicking back and forth as she joined him, gazing down at the running water. It was dirtier than its source upstream, murky brown from the soil, but it flowed nonetheless, a guiding force to their destination.

“I remember this spot,” Barley said as he caught up to them. The elder had taken his time, trotting over to the pair with an amused twinkle in his eye that grew more nostalgic as he spoke. “Ravenpaw, the kits and I passed by here, perhaps a few nights before we found Skyclan.”

“How long do you think it’ll take to make it to Highstones?” Tawnypaw asked. Barley tilted his head, thinking.

“Half a moon? Maybe a little less.”

“See, we’re cutting off time!” Juniperpelt nodded to himself, yellow eyes flashing. “If we take this route, we’ll be shaving off a week of travel.”

“If Cyanide isn’t here,” Tawnypaw muttered, glancing back towards the head of the river. “We should get going. The river can guide us to Highstones, but I don’t want to push our luck any further than we have today.”

Chapter Text

Star still couldn’t believe that she was doing this. 

Sitting at the very edge of the Skyclan border, her muscles were starting to ache from where she was crouched underneath the branches of the brush. It had taken her a little while to find the spot Firepaw had indicated—it was further than she had expected, requiring a longer walk. Above her, the waxing moon cast a bright silver glow through the burnt branches of Skyclan’s section of the forest, making it brighter than she was comfortable with. 

Not that she was comfortable in the first place. Star had oscillated wildly between the options provided by this offer of a midnight meeting. From telling Ginny right away, to reporting straight to Darktail, or even just ignoring that the whole fiasco had happened, she’d had a tough time deciding what to do. Every option had its own merit, and all of them felt saner than running off to meet a Skyclan cat in the middle of the night without anyone else the wiser. 

In the end, she’d decided to go with the stupid option. Information on the kits and a possible rescue of them was paramount, enough that Star was willing to risk herself on this leap of faith. Conversely, however, she hadn’t told Ginny, because if this didn’t work out, she didn’t want to get the other hunter’s hopes up. They’d figure out a different way if this was for some reason an ambush, even if she had no idea where to start.

Star was snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of a crackling leaf underfoot. Ears swiveling, she listened to the tell-tale sign of pawsteps approaching. It sounded like it was only one cat—was Firepaw really keeping his promise? Star’s breath caught in her throat at the thought. The Skyclan cat was either being very smart or very stupid doing this, but it would hopefully work out in her favor either way.

She turned her head just enough to watch as the form of a small cat slipped out from around a tree trunk. Light ginger fur glowing a faint silver in the moonlight, Firepaw’s bright blue eyes scanned over their meeting place, missing Star’s hiding spot in the roots of the fallen tree easily. For a moment, she let him linger there, tail twitching uncertainly, before she felt confident enough that he was alone to emerge.

“For a Skyclan cat, you sure can’t seem to look through the trees well,” she drawled, wincing slightly as a particularly sharp root scratched her flank. Firepaw jumped nearly a tail-length into the air, and she snorted, unimpressed. “Please, I had to make sure I wasn’t getting ambushed here. You can’t fault me for that, can you?”

“How do I know that you aren’t going to ambush me?” Firepaw asked, ears flattening. Star resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“You don’t,” she shrugged. “Same reason I hid before meeting you. Mutual trust between two groups at war is kind of hard to come by, you know?”

“That’s… a good point. Well, we’ve trusted each other this much, right? Both of us are alone.”

“That is also a good point,” Star conceded, and relaxed a little despite herself. Indeed, they’d both trusted the other party to show up alone tonight. She was quite astonished by the fact, honestly. A good portion of her had been expecting to see battle for the first time that night. 

Firepaw settled into a sitting position where he was, still a good few fox-lengths away from her. Star followed suit, and for a moment the two regarded each other silently. Then Star drew back a little, nose wrinkling as Firepaw blinked at her in confusion.

“Eugh, what is that smell? Did you roll in a patch of lavender on your way out?” She asked indignantly. Honestly, what was up with these Skyclan cats? If she could smell Firepaw from here, she couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t bothered.

“‘Course I did,” Firepaw responded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I had to hide my scent somehow, or the dawn patrol would be asking why I was out here in the middle of the night. Actually,” he tilted his head at her, thinking. “You probably should too, next time. We get enough cats around that your scent on the border won’t be too alarming, but there will be suspicions if the same scent shows up more than once.”

“You guys keep track of that sort of stuff?” Star asked, pushing aside the implications of next time for now. Firepaw nodded.

“Of course we do. There’s at least three patrols out per day, and with the rogues—well, you guys—” Star sneered at the term, and Firepaw had the decency to look abashed. “Around, yeah. We keep track. That’s why Cherrytail and Tinycloud could follow your scent so easily the other night. You were lucky they went the wrong way.”

You can say that again. Star still couldn’t believe she had been so stupid. Was being so stupid. Getting captured or killed by Skyclan… the mere thought would bring disgrace to her family. Darktail would probably drag her back by the tail and kill her himself. Still, she filed the information on patrols away for later. That information was too good to pass up. 

“We’re getting off track,” she responded. “I’m keeping an eye on Flightpaw for you, alright? She even got a robin I caught the other day, so she’d fed.” Not coming around, though. Moonlight was starting to get impatient. “What about the kits?”

“That’s good to hear,” Firepaw sighed, and he did look genuinely relieved. “As for the kits, the same goes for Violetkit and Twigkit. They’re spunky little furballs, have almost thrown each other in the river a few times now. Clovertail has her paws full with them for sure.”

“Who’s Clovertail?” 

“Uhm…” At this, Firepaw started to look a little awkward. “She’s kind of the kits’ adoptive mom?” 

Star couldn’t help but balk at the title. Mother? When Skyclan couldn’t even confirm if their real mother was still alive or not, they’d gone and thrown the kits at a different queen? Twigkit and Violetkit—Twitch and Jamie, she was getting mixed up with these weird names—had been mostly weaned by the time Ginny and Flash had been forced to give them up. There wasn’t any need!

“Well, it kind of makes sense,” Firepaw rushed to explain, withering a little under Star’s increased glare. “I mean, Clovertail stays in the nursery full time. Her last litter have been warriors for moons now, so she was the one with the most free time to look after them. They kind of just… got attached, I guess.”

Star forced the fur along her spine to lie flat. As much as she hated it, it did make sense. A mother with no kits, kits with no mother, and a group of cats keen on indoctrination? For Skyclan, it was a perfect recipe. For Star? Not so much.  

“You have permanent nursers?” She finally asked. Firepaw nodded.

“You mean queens? Of course. Clovertail’s our only one right now, but she never liked hunting or fighting. So she stays in the nursery and helps out with the kits. Right now we only have one other litter besides Violetkit and Twigkit, but she keeps an eye on them too. She helped watch me and my littermates back when we were kits.”

Star blinked, digesting the information. Cats whose sole purpose was to care for the young? It sounded frivolous, more a way to laze about not doing any work. Even Frost was responsible for her own kits, and hunted for them if the day’s catch wasn’t enough. But she supposed that having someone dedicated to the job full-time would work as well, especially if there were extra supplies to go around.

“And the third kit?” She went with in the end, changing the subject to the topic of their meeting in the first place. Firepaw shifted, face falling, and she swallowed.

“I asked Clovertail about it a few days ago, and she said that when the warriors found the kits, they’d already been exposed to the elements for a really long time. Violetkit and Twigkit made it… but the third one didn’t. Apparently he didn’t even survive the journey to camp.”

Star sucked in a long breath, and let it out slowly as she digested the information. It was as she suspected. When Firepaw had been so willing to talk about Jamie and Twitch, but not Trigger, it had been one of the first possibilities to spring to mind. Her heart sank, however, when she realized that she’d have to tell Ginny, who’d been so hopeful at the thought of meeting her long-lost son, the news. 

“I’m sorry,” Firepaw said quietly. 

“No, it’s what I expected.” Star shook her head, tail twitching. “After you only mentioned there being two.”

“Violetkit and Twigkit are more than healthy, though,” Firepaw continued. “They’re going to be apprenticed soon, so they’re doing well for themselves.”

“Apprenticed?” Star echoed, eyeing him. Firepaw nodded.

“When our kits turn six moons old, they become apprentices and start learning how to hunt and fight. Violetkit and Twigkit are around five moons old, so they’re nearing the age.”

“That old?” Despite her confusion, hope surged again in Star’s chest. If training didn’t start until the sixth moon, then she still had time to rescue them before indoctrination fully started.

Firepaw, meanwhile, was blinking at her. “When do your kits start training?” he asked.

Star paused, considering the question. Giving away Cyanide information was stupid and asking for trouble, but Firepaw had already given so much in relation to Skyclan. Surely her kithood wasn’t so big of a deal. 

“We don’t really have a set age,” Star shrugged. “Just when Darktail decides that the kits are able to start providing for themselves. There’s a litter right now who are probably going to be assigned to the Hunters or the Fighters in the next few days. I think they’re around four moons old.”

Now it was Firepaw’s turn to look confused. 

“That young?” He echoed. “Do they even get mentors?”

“Mentors? For what? The younger ones kind of just tag along until they figure it out.” Star thought of Leaflet, six moons old and snappier than a fox. He was getting the hang of things, finally, after a few moons of being an annoyance. She’d been the same back in the day, if more soft-spoken. 

“And if they can’t?” Something in Firepaw’s expression twisted, an emotion Star couldn’t decipher settling across his face. She ended up shrugging.

“If they can’t even hunt, then what’s the point? You’ve got to at least provide something to Cyanide to be worth it, or else we’ll be weak.”

Firepaw didn’t respond to that, just regarding her with that same odd look, and a long silence settled between them. Star blinked, wondering what she’d said to offend him. Strength was strength; even the Hunters provided sustenance for the clan. What worth were you if you couldn’t even hunt?

“If the mother of the kits wants to meet them, bring her here six nights from now,” the Skyclan cat announced, but his voice was colder now. “They aren’t coming with you back to Cyanide, but I’ll let her meet them.”

Star held back a gasp in surprise. “What?” She couldn’t help but exclaim. “But how did you—?” 

“Know that the mother is Cyanide?” Firepaw finished for her, tilting his head. His eyes, pale blue and round like the moon above them, seemed like they were boring into her skull. “It’s kind of obvious, Star. You wouldn’t stick your head out like this for some random rogue, so she has to live in your group.”

“Then why take the kits to meet a Cyanide cat?” 

“Because Violetkit and Twigkit deserve to know their mother.” And something in Firepaw’s gaze softened, tail flicking. “Six nights from now, bring the mother.”

“And why not just let me take them?” And maybe she was being stupid, but Star was burning with curiosity, now. Firepaw was acting so oddly, so far from his own self-interest, that it astonished her that he was reasoning this to himself. 

“Are you kidding me?” Firepaw stood up, stretching out stiff legs as he prepared to leave. Star followed suit, watching him intently. “From what you’re saying, I wouldn’t trust Cyanide with the fur off Twigkit’s tail. You better keep a good eye on Flightpaw—she’s the one in real danger, I think.”

With that, he turned and stalked off. After a moment of hesitation, Star let him go. She’d pushed her luck enough.

America was staring at her.

Star frowned, picking up the mouse she’d caught earlier that morning from where she’d dropped it earlier. None of the Fighters had chosen it to eat, so it was hers, but her plans for a rather peaceful lunch were dashed when she noticed his gaze land on her. Giving an overexaggerated sigh to make sure he saw, she turned around and trudged over to her friend.

“What?” She grumped, dropping the mouse and settling next to him. America glanced to either side, checking for eavesdroppers, but camp was relatively empty at this time of day, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.

“What were you doing last night?” He whispered.

Star froze. He had seen her? Had he followed her? Was he just testing her to see how she’d react? America might be her friend, but loyalty to Cyanide came before all. Usually, she’d be the first cat to uphold that standard—but extenuating circumstances prevented that in this case.

(Was she making excuses for herself? Star didn’t think so—but something in her gut twinged at her own reasoning.)

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered back. When in doubt, play dumb. “I left once to make dirt, if that’s what you mean.”

America rolled his eyes. “I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid, Star! You were gone for half the night! You had to be going somewhere, doing something, and if Darktail finds out that you were going out, alone, at night, without a Fighter escort—”

“He’ll do what?” Star interrupted him, tail lashing. “He’s my father, America, and I’m one of the best Hunters we’ve got.”

“And you think that’ll protect you?” Star drew back a bit, ears flat. But before she could respond, America continued. “Look, I don’t know what you’re doing and I don’t much care, but you’re putting yourself in danger, Star. Darktail might be your father, but you yourself have said that he favors Smoke over you anyways.”

Star scowled. Yeah, he was right, but did he really have to throw it in her face like that?

“I’m doing something important,” she whispered back. “A favor—I can’t tell you what it is just yet, but if all goes according to plan it’ll help Cyanide, not hurt it. I’m not trying to betray us!”

“Yeah, but you’re not exactly in good favor right now, either. Look, I didn’t want to worry you, but the Fighters are talking, and not in a good way. Washington says that if Flightpaw doesn’t come around and start listening in the next few days, Moonlight’s going to lose patience with her lack of progress. And that’s not going to look good on you, Star. You brought her in, and if Darktail wastes resources on a Skyclan cat and finds out you’ve been sneaking around…”

America trailed off, and Star couldn’t help but wince at the revelation. Already?

“I thought they’d be willing to wait like they did for Washington, but if she’s Skyclan then I guess Moonlight wouldn’t want to wait as long,” she muttered. She hadn’t thought of that. “I’ll talk to her soon, okay? But I have to do this.”

All she got was a scowl in response, but the pitter-patter of paws cutting off any words America wanted to say as Flower rounded the corner, tail stuck up high as her golden eyes shone.

“Star! America! Guess what?!” She skidded to a halt, hopping back and forth on each paw. “Guess! Guess!”

“Guess what?” Star asked. The tension in her shoulders smoothed out as the kit addressed them. She hadn’t realized how worried she was getting.

“No, you have to guess!” Flower exclaimed, thoroughly offended that the two Hunters weren’t reading her mind. Star let out a faux sigh, sending a knowing look at America. It looked like their conversation was going to have to wait for later, and just as well. He’d given her a lot to think about. 

“Did Darktail finally assign you?” America asked, and Flower squealed in assent. Star smiled at the revelation; it was clear that she was very excited to start helping out around camp to her.

“Did he assign you to the Hunters?” Star asked, but blinked in surprise when Flower shook her head. “The Fighters?”

“Yuh-huh!” Flower nodded. “Darktail wasn’t gonna at first, but Papa convinced him to let me go! Now both me and Striker are gonna be Fighters!” She tore at a loose leaf on the ground with tiny claws. “I’m gonna be the best Fighter Cyanide has ever seen!”

“Oh, that’s great!” Star purred. She wasn’t too surprised Thorn had gone to Darktail to get Flower on the Fighters; the elder Fighter no doubt had wanted his kits where he and Frost could keep an eye on them. “I bet you’ll do your best.”

“I’m gonna be amazing!” Flower cheered, and then she was off again, scampering to spread the news to whoever would listen. Star sighed, picking up the remains of her mouse to bury it before America could press her further. 

She was well aware of his dark blue eyes scorching her pelt, but her own gaze was caught on Flower, now announcing her assignment to a mildly interested Wren. 

That young? Firepaw had asked.

Flower… was a little small, wasn’t she?

Chapter Text

Hawkpaw barely had time to breathe before he was set upon again. Sand spraying around him, he hardly had his paws underneath him before he was knocked over, head hitting the ground as he was slammed back into a pin. He grunted, trying to wiggle his way out, and after batting as hard as he dared at his opponent’s belly, the hold loosened enough for him to wriggle out and get away.

This time, Leafstar let him catch his breath, standing back and letting them circle each other as Hawkpaw tried to think of another method of attack. Fur mussed, filled with sand and sticking up every which way, his mentor still managed to cut an imposing figure, watching him plan with a piercing amber gaze.

“Think outside the box, Hawkpaw!” Someone shouted from the sidelines, and so focused was he on Leafstar, it took Hawkpaw a moment to realize it was Sandyclaw encouraging him. He nodded to himself, squaring his shoulders as he stared down his mentor. 

Usually, as the biggest of the apprentices, Hawkpaw was able to use his superior size to his advantage. Only Rileypaw really held a candle to his height, so he was used to being able to smother or use his sheer power to overwhelm his opponent. Leafstar was different, however. Even though she was only average-sized at best, she was as slippery as a trout, seeming to dodge and weave right out of the way of any move he tried on her. Her blows were few, but heavy, enough to knock him off his feet if he wasn’t careful.

Okay. The tackle clearly wasn’t going to work; Leafstar had turned that on him like it was nothing. Maybe...?

Hawkpaw lunged forwards again, making as if to try another frontal tackle. Leafstar tensed in response, shoulders rolling back in anticipation, but at the last moment he twisted to the side, catching her on her right shoulder relatively unawares. To his delight, Leafstar buckled underneath him, but as he raked sheathed paws down her side, she used the moment of weakness to roll out from underneath him.

But Hawkpaw wasn’t about to lose his advantage. He pressed on, cuffing her over the head and getting struck across the chest in return. They wrestled for a while, until Leafstar twisted herself in a move Hawkpaw had never seen before, pushing herself around his side and landing him down in a pin. 

It was good. Hawkpaw struggled for a few minutes, but she’d gotten the upper paw on this one. He sighed, relaxing, and Leafstar let him up, stepping back to start grooming the sand out of her fur. Mild pride radiated off of her, and despite his loss, Hawkpaw thought he had done well.

“That was amazing!”

Hawkpaw turned, purring as he caught sight of Ashenpaw bouncing in place on the sidelines. Next to her, Billystorm nodded his approval, while Sandyclaw and Bellapaw watched them a bit more quietly. Sandyclaw sent him an approving nod, and Hawkpaw grinned at him, shaking the sand out of his fur as he stretched. 

“Hawkpaw did very well,” Leafstar said, stepping out of the sandy hollow and onto the harder sandstone that edged it. She brushed her head against Billystorm briefly before addressing Ashenpaw and Bellapaw. “And so did you two. I’d say this morning’s training session is a success.”

“I agree,” Billystorm purred, sending his apprentice an approving look. “You did well against Bellapaw earlier; I see a lot of improvement on your end.”

Ashenpaw seemed to glow from her mentor’s praise, and Hawkpaw laughed, nudging her as he joined the ground. 

“Careful, if you do well enough, Billystorm might make you fight me or Featherpaw next,” he teased her, thoroughly enjoying her exaggerated horror at the idea.

“No way!” She snorted, shaking her head. “I don’t know how Leafstar can fight you; you’re so big!”

“There are plenty of ways to use one’s smaller size to their advantage,” Leafstar put in, angling her head back towards the gorge. The group of six began the walk back to camp as she continued. “Hawkpaw is certainly good practice for me to keep up those techniques.”

“As you pound him into the ground,” Sandyclaw said, getting a faux-offended look from Hawkpaw in return. 

It was a pleasant, clear afternoon. After a few chilly days, the gorge was experiencing a brief respite, the sun’s warm rays stronger than usual. A perfect day for training, too; they’d been out all morning, taking turns sparring with each other. Billystorm had been the one to come up with the idea of having an apprentice from three different skill levels work together; Ashenpaw was only a moon into her training, Bellapaw three, and Hawkpaw just past four and a half. It made for an interesting dynamic, especially for Ashenpaw, who had to go up against cats with much more training than her. 

And levity was something Hawkpaw found very refreshing. Ashenpaw had been so quiet these past few days, with Flightpaw gone, that it was good to see her letting loose once again, and Bellapaw was improving in leaps and bounds as well. 

The camp was in a minor commotion as they approached. Brambleclaw, as he had been the last few days, was conversing with a few cats, mostly on the younger side. Specifically, Hawkpaw noticed Stormheart and Rileypaw in the group, the former animatedly asking his father a question.

No doubt something about Thunderclan again. Hawkpaw was still reeling from the revelation himself, but he found himself slightly caught off guard by how quickly it had spread through camp. Overnight Brambleclaw had become something of a celebrity, but he seemed to be handling the situation relatively well, though he continued to be rather tight-lipped on why, exactly, he’d left Thunderclan in the first place.

It wasn’t just him. Echosong and Sparrowpelt were speaking above the medicine den. As Hawkpaw watched, Macgyver jumped up and joined them for a moment, and—was that blood on his pelt?

Next to him, Ashenpaw seemed to notice the same, sucking in a sharp breath. Leafstar muttered something Hawkpaw couldn’t quite catch, her jovial demeanor vanishing like a cold breeze. She flicked her tail, indicating for the apprentices to stay put, and hurried off to meet her deputy and medicine cat. Giving Ashenpaw a comforting lick on the ear, Billystorm hurried after his mate a moment later, his pelt flickering with uncertainty.

“What happened?” Bellapaw asked, ears flattening. Sandyclaw ran his tail across her back comfortingly, stepping forwards to lead them away.

“I don’t know,” he said, and Hawkpaw had to give the tom credit for how nonchalant he sounded, considering the tumult in his own mind. “But Leafstar will handle it. Don’t worry about things until she says there’s something to be worried about.”

“What if it’s the dogs?” Ashenpaw asked, nearly at a whisper. “Did something happen to the daylight warriors?”

“No, that can’t be right,” Hawkpaw disagreed. “The daylight warriors were already here for the day. Why would anybody be in the twolegplace at this time?”

“Alright, enough gossiping,” Sandyclaw flicked his tail at Hawkpaw, who just rolled his eyes in response. Fine, fine. “Knowing how the clan works, we’re all going to find out by sun’s set anyways. Go along and get something to eat; I’m sure your mentors will fetch you once you’re needed.”

“I could use something good to eat,” Bellapaw agreed, nodding at Ashenpaw. The two younger she-cats headed off towards the fresh-kill pile, while Sandyclaw bounded down the cliffside to where Honeytail was sitting by the Rockpile. 

Hawkpaw hesitated for a moment, wondering what he should do. He was hungry, yes, but he was also very curious as to what was going on. Food could wait a little longer, right? He spotted Brambleclaw bounding up towards the warrior’s den, and took the opportunity, hurrying over to his father before he could disappear into the den.

“Oh, Hawkpaw.” His father greeted him, pausing once he was close enough to see him approaching. He felt… rather tired, Hawkpaw noted with some mild surprise, but glad to see him. “Do you need anything?”

“What, like I can’t come and see you?” He replied, half-teasing, and got a brief purr in response. 

“You always can, but I also just got away from Stormheart and Rileypaw.”

“Oh, how long have they been dogging you?”

“As much as you overeager young ones tend to.” Brambleclaw shook his head. “Looking for stories, as always.”

Hawkpaw shrugged. “I don’t get it,” he announced. “I mean, Thunderclan is cool and all, but you’re here now! Everyone’s so obsessed with your past.”

“Now, I wouldn’t say everyone. Overall, the reactions have gone very well, all things considered. The clan is just starved for some good stories, and I happen to be a source for them. That’s all.”

“Well? What do you mean by that?”

Brambleclaw’s eyes flickered, a multitude of emotions passing too quickly for Hawkpaw to decipher before he responded. “I mean, many cats are not as accepting as others might be. Now, I’m assuming you came here to ask me something?”

Hawkpaw frowned, but let the conversation shift once he registered discomfort rising out of the disorienting swirl of emotion. “Do you know what’s going on? Leafstar and I got back from training to find Sparrowpelt and Echosong waiting for her. I think Macgyver was injured.”

Brambleclaw blinked. “Really?” He said, surprised. “He, Clovertail, and Echosong were supposed to go out and check on Ebonyclaw today. They’re back earlier than they’re supposed to be. I hope everything is alright.”

Ah. Maybe Ashenpaw had been right after all—except instead of the whole daylight warrior patrol, it was just Echosong checking in on Ebonyclaw. She would have been more vulnerable to a dog attack than a bunch of warriors. 

“Well, Echosong looked fine, and Macgyver didn’t seem too badly hurt,” he decided. “So I bet Clovertail is fine too. If they had a scare and had to turn back, it was before anything serious happened.”

“I do hope so,” Brambleclaw murmured, something far-off in his eyes. “Dogs are a serious threat. Better to be safe than sorry.”

“Hey! Do you two know what’s going on right now?”

A new voice cut into their conversation, and Hawkpaw looked up to see Birdwing jumping down to meet them, Hollyfrost on her heels. The black che-cat purred in greeting to him, and Hawkpaw waved his tail in return.

“You know more than me, Hawkpaw,” Brambleclaw said, dipping his head at the two approaching warriors. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to nap at least part of the morning away.”

“Oh!” Hawkpaw burned underneath his pelt. “Sorry.”

“I’m always happy to speak to you, Hawkpaw, but I think it’s time for me to retire.” There was no annoyance coming off from his father, so Hawkpaw nodded, the three saying their goodbyes as Brambleclaw jumped up a few more tail-lengths and disappeared into the warrior’s den.

“Mouse-dung,” Birdwing grumbled, tail-flickering. “I was hoping to ask him about Thunderclan.”

“I’m sure you can get the stories from Stormheart and Rileypaw,” Hawkpaw replied, nudging her. “Apparently they’ve been hogging him all morning.”

“Stormheart all morning? No wonder he wants a nap,” Hollyfrost chuckled, amber eyes flickering down to the camp below. “Do you know what’s going on, though? We just got back from a border patrol.”

Hawkpaw relayed what he’d deciphered to the two warriors. Birdwing’s eyes widened once he spoke about the trip to see Ebonyclaw, glancing at Hollyfrost.

“We escorted Echosong and her patrol all the way to the Twolegplace,” she said. “No way they made it to Ebonyclaw’s nest and back before we finished marking the border.”

“Do you think we could talk to Macgyver?” Hollyfrost mused. “I know he’s been pretty worried about Ebonyclaw, with the dogs and all. We haven’t seen them for the last few days, but that doesn’t mean they’re still around.”

“He was speaking with Leafstar, last I saw,” Hawkpaw replied. “But I bet Clovertail’s back at the nursery. We could ask her!”

“Good idea!” Birdwing nodded. “We can bring her some prey, too. Starclan knows I’m starving.”

As if on cue, Hawkpaw’s own stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since last night. He led the way down the gorge, passing by Bellapaw and Ashenpaw sharing a shrew before picking up two mice from the fresh-kill pile. Birdwing grabbed a vole, but Hollyfrost shook his head when she offered it to him to share. 

“I’m only eating with my twolegs now,” he said. “So there’s more to go around for you guys.” 

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Birdwing replied, mildly surprised. “Are all the daylight warriors not eating here?”

Hollyfrost nodded. “It was Mayapool’s idea, and Billystorm thought it was smart. I’m inclined to agree. This leaf-bare is looking to be a hard one.”

Hawkpaw was reminded, quite suddenly, of his conversation with Leafstar on the hunting patrol. That had been around half a moon ago now, and the days were getting noticeably colder already. Prey was getting harder to find, too. Already the fresh-kill pile was dwindling; the evening hunting patrols still had to go out, but there were only a few pieces of prey left after he and his friends were done.

“Come on,” Hollyfrost said, nudging Hawkpaw out of his thoughts. The black tom had his eyes on him, and Hawkpaw flattened his ears in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to make his worry so obvious. “No point thinking about what we can’t control.”

“Yeah,” Birdwing chirped, false positivity dripping off her pelt as she hopped forwards. “We have some gossip to find!”

Hawkpaw appreciated the sentiment, easy to see through as it was. He adjusted his grip on the mice and followed the two warriors up the gorge, past the apprentice’s den and to the nursery. 

“Clovertail! Want something to eat?” Birdwing called out once they were close, the faint scent of milk beginning to permeate the air. Firepaw was outside the den, entertaining Violetkit and Twigkit with a mossball, and the two exchanged silent greetings as Hawkpaw ducked inside the cave.

The den was pretty empty inside, emptier than Hawkpaw ever remembering it being when he was a kit. Tadpolekit and Shadekit were out, probably with the elders, so it was just Mintfur and Clovertail curled in their nests. They seemed to be deep in conversation as they entered, soft words cut off as the she-cats caught sight of them.

“Oh, that’s so kind of you!” Clovertail purred when she saw their offerings, adjusting herself. Hawkpaw darted forward and dropped off one of the mice, then after a moment, gave the other to Mintfur. He could share the vole with Birdwing. “Let me guess, you’re bribing me for the latest gossip?”

“What? No,” Hollyfrost replied, in the most inauthentic voice possible.

“Can’t we just do something nice because we feel like it?” Hawkpaw protested.

“My own mother!” Birdwing dramatized, hanging her head.

Clovertail laughed out loud, though worry prickled under her skin. Hawkpaw watched her, interested as she motioned for them to sit.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about my outing to the twolegplace if you’ve made your way over here,” she said, pausing to take a bite out of her mouse. “I was just telling Mintfur about it, so you three can join if you want.”

Hawkpaw situated himself next to Birdwing, Hollyfrost taking her other side as the queen continued speaking.

“None of us are hurt, thankfully, but we couldn’t make it anywhere close to Ebonyclaw’s twoleg nest,” Clovertail sighed. “As I’m sure you know, Hollyfrost, the daylight warriors are strong in numbers, and have been switching up their routes, so they’ve been able to avoid the dogs.”

“Generally speaking,” the daylight warrior agreed. “Harveymoon had a close call the other day, but we haven’t gotten hurt since that first time.”

“As it turns out, the dogs seem to have made their nests on the route to Ebonyclaw, so that might be why you’re seeing them less. Echosong, Macgyver and I had quite the shock when we tried to make our way over.”

“Thank Starclan no one was hurt,” Mintfur put in, nodding. “I heard Macgyver got you two out of there quickly.”

Clovertail nodded. “He’s gotten good at finding the dogs. I had hardly even scented them before he turned us the other way!”

“Why did Echosong want you to go with her?” Hawkpaw asked, curiosity pricking his paws. Clovertail glanced over at him, green eyes flickering.

“Well, I am the most experienced in the clan when it comes to kitting,” she said. “I usually help Echosong in these matters. And Firepaw is already spending so much time with Violetkit and Twigkit; they wouldn’t miss me if I left for the day.”

“They’re getting too big for the nursery,” Mintfur sighed, but the motion was fond. “But Leafstar’s talking about holding them back until Cherrytail’s litter—you and your littermates, Hawkpaw—become warriors. I guess it’s a good thing they’re getting their energy out somehow.”

“Firepaw’s practically spending more time with the kits than he is training,” Birdwing remarked. “Nettlesplash is getting worried over his progress.”

Hawkpaw blinked, looking over at her. He hadn’t heard anything about that. “Worried? What do you mean by that?”

“Firepaw is a kind soul,” Clovertail sighed, pushing away the remains of her mouse. “But he’s more like you and your littermates than you might think, Hawkpaw. If he doesn’t find purpose in something, it’s difficult to motivate him to do it.”

“Who wouldn’t find purpose in providing for the clan?” Hawkpaw blinked in shock. Firepaw always had… fallen behind, yes, but he’d never thought that his brother was unmotivated.

“Someone who thinks they’re much more useful at something else,” Mintfur put in. Hawkpaw turned his attention to the gray she-cat as she spoke. “Perhaps Firepaw isn’t meant to be a warrior.”

“What?” Birdwing near-exclaimed, fur spiking around her spine. She forced herself to calm down when Clovertail sent her a stern look. “What else could he be?”

“That’s for him to decide, I think.” Clovertail looked away for a moment, thinking, then continued. “But that’s enough talking about someone behind their back. If you have any concerns, Hawkpaw, I think you should talk to Firepaw yourself. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

That night, Hawkpaw woke up to find himself sitting before a river.

For a heart-stopping moment, he thought he’d accidentally dreamt himself into the Dark Forest again, but that thought was swiftly discarded. The water of the river was clear and a dark, midnight blue, glinting with starlight even though the sky above was still light. When Hawkpaw looked up, he saw a clump of dense trees across the water, their leaves a deep forest green.

He sat there for a while, unsure of what he was doing. After a few moments, he realized this was a dream, but he had little idea what he was doing there, or how he had arrived. 

Eventually, the undergrowth of the forest across the river moved, and Hawkpaw looked up in time to see Jayfeather approach him on the opposite bank. The stars on the Starclan cat’s pelt glittered in time with the ones in the water, and Hawkpaw found himself unable to speak as Jayfeather situated himself on the grass, watching him with icy blue eyes. 

For another long moment, they simply sat in silence. Then Jayfeather sighed. 

“Starclan is not all-powerful, kit. Our role is to guide, not to govern. This you must keep in mind in the moons ahead.”

Just as he finished speaking, Hawkpaw’s jaw unlocked, and he sucked in a deep breath before he responded. 

“What are you talking about?” He asked, and Jayfeather’s gaze seemed to grow even more piercing, if that were even possible.

“We are here to guide you,” he repeated. “Not to rule over you. You must fight for yourself, Hawkpaw. If Skyclan is to survive, you must make that effort on your own strength. It will not be easy, but it is possible.”

Hawkpaw looked back down to the river. The multitudes of stars in the river had disappeared, leaving behind only three. Two of the stars sat close to each other, but the third was alone, being pulled along with the current downstream.

“The rogue group, Cyanide,” he started, his mind working. “We’ll have to deal with them on our own. Do you… have any guidance for us?”

Jayfeather chuckled, then swiped a paw through the water, sending droplets flying through the air. The water rippled and distorted, and as it settled, there was only one star left. This one was different from the others, flickering orange where the others had been white. 

“You are powerful, Hawkpaw. Use it to your advantage, but remember: not everyone needs to know everything. Even destiny can be changed simply by discovering what it is.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Hawkpaw questioned, tilting his head. 

Jayfeather’s eyes glittered with unshed emotion. “Not always,” he said gruffly. “Sometimes fate is best left alone. Trying to control it… rarely ends well. That’s how I died.”

Hawkpaw blinked. Jayfeather had never spoken about his life in the clans. Questions burned under his pelt, but he held them back. Considering the roiling emotions of regret and pain under the tom’s pelt, he would not give him an answer.

“Remember your power, Hawkpaw,” Jayfeather continued after a beat. “Control it. Restrain it when you must. And remember that every cat has a role to play in Skyclan’s destiny. Even those you would not expect.”