i wish i were king of that paradise

“That’s all for now.” Brick stood up and stretched, arching his bald back and straightening his tail. “And no word from Claw, I assume.”

Firestar shook his head. “They left the Barn and WindClan never heard from them again.”

“That’s only good news to me,” Brick replied. He grimaced on one side of his face. “Bone’s gone, too. I seem to be the last of the Blood’s authority left.”

Scourge’s body danced behind Firestar’s eyes. He sat still and let himself grieve and shudder before taking a breath and clearing his mind a bit forcibly, saying to Brick, “Well, the less reason to have the Blood rise again, the better.”

Brick’s tail curled. “I can agree with that.” He glanced up at the sky. “I better get home. Tell Mouse I said hi, alright?”

Firestar thought of mentioning Mousefur’s tetchiness last night. How Goldenflower’s lecture on the importance of resting in the nursery as soon as possible made the molly snip about still being able to work, and wanting to, and she barely even smelled like milk to begin with…

But Mousefur had looked her leader dead in the eye and emphasized how informing any outsider, no matter their connection to this coming litter, would warrant a knock upside the head. He’d opened his mouth to debate, but the warning glare silenced him, then and now.

Sorry I can’t tell you. Stars know how you’d react anyway.

“Will do.” Firestar stood too, bowing his head to Brick. “Send for me if anything comes up.”

With a wave of his tail, Brick turned and started off down the gravel road of the Houses.

Firestar watched him go, his eyes drifting to the fence with chipped railing, squaring off Rosy’s yard from view. His heart clenched; he could feel the loneliness drifting out of it. Did Rosy even have any friends she saw regularly? Was she still keeping to herself?

He wasn’t aware that he took several steps towards her house until his paw scraped on pavement. With a startle, he turned himself around and trotted down towards the grassy border past the Houses. Towards home.

But speaking of…

His head tracked his progress of walking to and past his old house. It looked the same as ever: square, warm-colored, cozy. The fence hadn’t been repainted. Clattering of dishes and warbles of some tune drifted out of an open window.

Firestar stopped just outside of the fence and gazed down at the forest. It was a lower view than he’d usually had as a kittypet, but not too much of a difference.

It was an odd feeling, to be looking at a place he had once dreamed of visiting and exploring, imagining what it could be like in there… and now he was the leader of the Clan that called the forest home. Now he knew every step of the woods forwards and backwards.

Now he had seen uncountable dead bodies, mourned them all, and buried some.

Now he had killed someone himself, and nearly lost his mind trying to survive the guilt.

But then… 

Now he had tasted real, fresh meat. Now he had forged bonds with cats who would throw themselves at a car to shield him. He had saved lives and seen for himself the strength in his own heart. His capacity to care and protect. His eagerness to break rules if it meant helping someone else.

Rusty the kittypet had walked into that forest, and Firestar of ThunderClan had walked out.

What a bizarre feeling. It was like reverse-nostalgia—he’d rather have this now than go back to simpler times. Keeping his innocence and ignorance was simply foolish.

Horrible as it could be, he was glad to know more of this world, and have his place in it.

“There he is!”

“I told you…”

Firestar blinked, brought out of his mind as Greystripe and Ravenwing pushed through some ferns and appeared at the forest’s border. Firestar padded down to them, greeted with headbumps and greeting in turn.

“We were wondering where you went to so early in the evening,” Greystripe said.

“And if you were okay.” Ravenwing sighed. “He was just talking with Brick; I told you that.”

“You could’ve been wrong,” Greystripe sniffed, and turned to Firestar again. “Did he ask about Mousefur again?”

Firestar poorly hid a chuff. “He did. It’s the first topic of conversation these days.”

Ravenwing twitched his whiskers. “Poor guy. How’s it going out there?”

“It seems to get better with every visit,” Firestar replied. “He said they’ve had a couple pregnant queens join them a few days ago. I don’t exactly know where their camp is, but Brick sounded confident that they have a safe place for those kittens to be raised, so I’m sure it’s a good spot.”

Greystripe tilted his head. “What do they use for nests? They don’t have moss there, do they?”

“Well…” Firestar hummed thoughtfully. “Humans toss out blankets and mats all the time. Maybe they pulled together some of those. I’ll have to ask him next time he comes around.”

For a moment, the three toms were silent, all of them glancing back at the way Firestar had come.

Ravenwing eventually said, “Why were you by your old fence?”

Firestar rolled a shoulder. “Just going down my path of memories for a bit. It’s hard to believe I’m at where I am now.”

His friends made small noises of acknowledgement.

Firestar let himself gaze at his old house for another moment, before taking a breath and turning to Greystripe and Ravenwing. “Well, we should head home. Dustpelt’s probably worrying about me right now.”

“He knew you were out here, though,” Greystripe said.

“He worries regardless, like you did,” Ravenwing replied with a purr. “I mean, we all do, but, you know.”

“It’s appreciated.” Firestar started walking. “Let’s catch something to eat. The prey-pile could use a squirrel or two.”

His friends followed him, tails high and waving.

Firestar slowed his pace just a little, half-expecting to feel a pull on his soul to go back to the Houses. But all there was in his chest was a blooming warmth – a confidence and contentment that brightened the further he walked into the forest.

His home.