#blackkit

"I bet you're glad you get to spend at least a little time away from your sister now, eh?" Cloudthunder said with a half-laugh.

Daffodilpaw tore her admiring gaze away from the color-changing leaves above them. She tilted her head at her mentor.

"I mean…I like spending time with you, and exploring, but…I wouldn't be mad if Owlpaw was here or anything." The apprentice's thoughts came out choppy.

Cloudthunder's tail flicked. "Doesn't she bully you? I saw how she treated you as a kit sometimes," she meowed.

Daffodilpaw sheepishly pawed at the leaf litter, looking away. "I mean…maybe? I dunno. I wouldn't call it bullying." The golden molly sat down, and Cloudthunder echoed the gesture attentively. Thoughts seemed to roil in Daffodilpaw's head, looking to be picked out like mats in fur. "I mean, she's rude sometimes. But she's not all bad. She can be nice. I think she just...doesn't know she's being mean sometimes."

Cloudthunder's ear twitched. Curious. She never had littermates, so she wasn't really sure how the bond between them worked. She gained some insight when she had her own kits, but they were never as hostile to other cats as Owlpaw was. She did find it strange that as the moons went by, Daffodilpaw went from being upset about Owlpaw's behavior to more…accepting, if she could even call it that.

"Well, even so, it's bad for ForestClan's unity to have resentment between clanmates, especially in these woods," Cloudthunder meowed as she stood back to her feet. "I hope that her training helps her feel less angry at others."

"Me too," Daffodilpaw said with a glint in her eyes.

And honestly? That was good. That was all there was to it. Cloudthunder was glad her apprentice was keeping a positive attitude and wasn't letting the words of others get under her skin. It was more than she could ever ask for. And for the next few days, Cloudthunder settled into a routine she enjoyed - she woke up early, helped make breakfast if needed, greeted her children and asked them if they slept well (Cottonpaw and Airpaw slept like logs, Deerpaw was a bit more restless), then recruited her apprentice to teach her how to do her chores and bring her on patrols, teaching her the lay of the land, hunting and battle.

Which is why, one evening, as the sun was setting, she knew something was wrong.

Daffodilpaw was tense since the morning. Her jaw was tight. She barely spoke. Her eyes were focused, but unreadable. She deflected when asked if anything was wrong. She insisted she was okay, just tired.

When the sun had set and the evening buzz around the Clan settled, with cats sharing tongues and cleaning up the last of their meal, it was clear something was wrong with Daffodilpaw. Cloudthunder glanced around camp to look for her, only to see her back as the young cat was staring at the camp walls.

Cloudthunder's ear twitched.

For a brief moment, an echo of pain rippled under her skin. A drifting memory of seeing her mother sitting at the top of the camp walls and weeping into the night.

Cloudthunder stepped away from the dying fire and approached her apprentice. Daffodilpaw was trembling.

"...Daffodilpaw? Is everything alright?" The warrior padded slowly around until she sat beside her.

Daffodilpaw was wide-eyed with terror. Cloudthunder failed to stop her neck fur from rising.

"Daffodil."

The apprentice's eyes were the same color as her mother's. And reflected the same look that Riversnow had the day she gave birth to them. Dread. Hopelessness.

Cloudthunder swallowed. "...It's going to be okay." She failed to hide her wavering. "But you have to say something."

Immediately, Daffodilpaw burst into tears, crouching on the floor and burying her tail between her legs. She blubbered a response. "It's my fault, it's my fault, I couldn't - I couldn't stop her, I couldn't - "

Daffodilpaw's high-pitched whines grabbed the attention of other cats, who whipped their heads in their direction.

"Shh, no, no it's not," Cloudthunder reassured with desperation. "Daffodilpaw, what happened?"

"I-It's Owlpaw," Daffodilpaw sobbed. "O-Owlpaw n-never wanted to be mean! She never wanted to b-be, b-but she felt - she - she didn't believe me, I tried to tell her that the monsters are real, b-but - "

More cats now stirred and started padding over with wide eyes and bristling pelts, and Cloudthunder felt like they were being cornered by a pack of dogs. She hissed instinctively, to the dismay of Riversnow, who hissed in return and was held back by Barleywave. The two mollies stared at each other in bewilderment from each other's reactions.

Daffodilpaw covered her eyes with her paws. "O-Owlpaw s-said that she never saw a Deep Root entity before in her entire life, a-and she said that we were all lying to her! T-The kits from outside were probably just abandoned, a-and Shiverstep and Brackenfreckle wanted to scare us and prove the adults' stories true, a-and Warblerkit probably wasn't real, a-and - "

Cloudthunder's heart was set on fire and her ears pumped with blood. Oh no. No.

It was dark. The horror she had when Cottonpaw and Deerpaw had vanished in the middle of the night returned to her.

No. StarClan, please, no.

"Daffodilpaw," Redstar stepped out of the crowd, tall and imposing, her voice cutting through the apprentice's rant. Her blue eyes were set ablaze. "What happened?"

Daffodilpaw looked up at Redstar, her ears flattening. "Owlpaw said s-she was going to prove herself to everyone, she was going to prove to me that the monsters aren't real by going out of camp at night the next day, and that I shouldn't tell anyone, but I - "

Cloudthunder felt the noise of camp blur around her. Instinctively, she dashed to the apprentice's den and looked inside, desperate to see pale ginger fur sulking in a lump within.

Owlpaw's nest was empty.

---

Owlpaw patrols angrily around the territory, bitter about the horrible stories of "the woods eating them" and monsters lurking. ForestClan were liars and cruel adults, telling horrible stories to keep kits in camp and scare apprentices. In another time, Owlpaw would be doing an apprentice trial right now.

(Owlpaw, apprentice, female, 6 moons. Adventurous.)

---

Owlpaw hissed as she slashed her claws across a tree in passing. She felt the bark splinter off and fling into the overgrowth. Good. All of it was bulrush fluff anyway.

"Are you gonna come out of a burrow? Or drop from a tree? Huh?" Owlpaw snarled to the wind. Her tail thrashed as she walked down the tread path.

ForestClan were liars. All of them. Each and every single one of them, her mom and apparent dad included. The only one who probably wasn't, was her sister, who was just scared and blindly trusting. Maybe the three dark-furred kits were in the same boat. But the rest of them were mangy and foxhearted.

Owlpaw was going to defy them. Prove them wrong. There were no monsters in the stupid woods. She was six moons old, and had never seen a single monster in her entire life.

At first, she thought it was just stories to get them to behave. But then they went further than that. Redstar went into detail of what the monsters are like. What leaders did in the past to apprentices, throwing them to the woods. Oh, and she should feel so grateful that she lived now, and not back then. And they were serious about it.

She remembered when she was small, and naive, and genuinely believed this. Why wouldn't she? She trusted the adults around her to be honest. But she noticed it always came with…with stupid caveats. Well, if the woods are so dangerous, why are adults allowed out? If they're so dangerous, why does Redstar go out every night? Why did Windfur and Shiverstep leave at dusk every half-moon to go StarClan-knows-where? If the woods ate cats, why did they still live here? That last one always upset the adults, but she was right and it wasn't a mousebrained question! If there WERE actual dangers out here, why stay here? Why not leave? The fact that they meandered about 'culture' and 'preserving the memory of the lost Clans' pissed her off, and she hated it.

Owlpaw kicked up the leaf litter as she smelled the air around her. She smelled mud, and heard crickets.

It was…innocent. Natural.

Sadness mixed with the anger in her chest. She scowled at a nearby birch tree that had almost lost all of its leaves to the weather. She let out a snort.

"You're not a tree-thing that's going to eat me, are you?" Owlpaw approached it, nicking at the tree's paper-like bark with her claws. Her grey eyes flickered. "Do you have friends that are gonna eat me? Or maybe a big black plant that's going to melt my flesh?"

Silence.

"Nah. Of course not. You're just a birch tree." Owlpaw peeled a strip of the birch's bark, hearing the paper-like tear and watching as the thin bark curled on itself.

It was weak skin.

Owlpaw tossed aside the bark and padded into the undergrowth, towards the border that Morningspot showed her. Her mentor was annoying, but at least she made sure Owlpaw knew her way around.

Bulrush fluff…all bulrush fluff.

The thing that killed all doubt, was that Cottonpaw and Deerpaw went on a night patrol, and they came back home just fine. Oh sure, they said they were chased by some Fake Twoleg. But she bet that Twolegs weren't actually real either. She'd never seen one, and was never shown any proof of them existing, so why should she believe anything they say at this point? Cottonpaw and Deerpaw were taken aside by adults first anyway, so for all she knows, they were brought in on the truth and told them to lie.

That had to be the only rational explanation. Because if she lived in a world that evil…

Well, she didn't see a point in living in it.

"Well? Are you going to try and kill me? Yeah right, you aren't even real," she called out. Nothing replied, except for the bugs. She rolled her eyes and flicked her tail, trudging fearlessly through the undergrowth.

Owlpaw cringed as she picked up the weird, tangy smell that came from their border. Morningspot explained that Twoleg metal beasts came down it - what fun, another monster to the list - but that they were rare and didn't leave the path.

For a moment, she stared up and down the long, grey path that stretched out into the hilly trails. Her eyes narrowed. It was a very weird thing, in comparison to everything else. Probably the only real evidence of "monsters" she was ever shown. But of course, no actual showing of one.

Owlpaw hated the smell, so she went back into the undergrowth.

She wandered for a few minutes, letting the anger seep through her bones.

A Woodcrawler would've definitely killed her by now if they were real. She was practically free food.

"Hellooooo? Any Woodcrawlers? Fake Cats? I'm tooootally vulnerable, and all alone! Come get me, stupid foxdungs," she snarled.

Of course, nothing. As expected.

Why did they lie to her? What was the point? She was never going to be a kit forever. Why control them all like this? Why scare her and Daffodilkit like this? Surely, not all cats would agree to lying like that…right?

Owlpaw remembered when Morningspot took her out of camp for the first time. Brought her to a place close to the border. A place where the forest ended, and from an overlook, it turned into a flat, open field that stretched down into more woodland.

"We don't hunt in the plains. If you get here, turn back."

"Why?"

"Um…well, it's the end of the territory, so of course you'd turn back," Morningspot mumbled.

"No, mousebrain, why don't we hunt in the plains?" Owlpaw retorted.

Morningspot flinched. The older cat hesitated for a moment, before she mumbled, "There's…a lot of Woodcrawler dens down there. More than there are in the forest. I think it has to do with the Twoleg Greenleaf place next to it," Morningspot gestured to the blocky, triangular nests across the grey road.

"How do you know?"

Morningspot looked at her quizzically. Owlpaw's eyes narrowed, and she repeated her question.

"How do you know?"

Morningspot blinked, then stared at her feet. "...Cats have died hunting in there."

"You've seen, or you've heard?"

Owlpaw wanted to claw her mentor's face off when Morningspot just stared at the apprentice and repeated again that cats died in there, and that Owlpaw would be hurt - or worse - if she tried. Owlpaw only resisted because Morningspot gave her the most pathetic-looking stare she'd ever seen in a cat, as she practically begged her not to run into the field. Owlpaw could cross the road, go to the lake, climb a tree, do literally anything else, but she begged her to not step into the field.

Owlpaw failed to suppress a snarl as she remembered the path they took. To foxdung with this. The field didn't have dens. She'd prove it. Her tail thrashed as she pushed aside ferns and scrambled over fallen logs and branches, muttering angrily to herself.

"The adults can't lie to me anymore, you know!" she yowled. Owlpaw hissed as she ducked underneath a fallen branch and started to approach the small hill that would overlook the field. "I know the....the...."

Owlpaw stopped.

She trailed off as her eyes cast through the treeline, revealing strips of the sky on the horizon.

In between the gaps, far where the field should be; bright, shining lights hovered listlessly. She thought they were stars, at first. But then they swayed, ever so slightly, like the flickering of fire. And they were big.

…Did…they ever mention lights before…?

A flicker of hesitation shot through her chest. Maybe? She…only really remembered the ones that gave her nightmares. Woodcrawlers, Nature's Mockery, Fake Cats, Living Tendrils…she stopped paying attention to lessons after a certain point, believing it was all just lies to scare them.

Daffodilpaw would know. Daffodilpaw paid attention to everything. Sometimes she resented her for it. But for a brief second, she wished that she was here with her.

But of course Daffodilpaw didn't want to come. She was too scared. Believed whatever everyone said.

The lights didn't move. They continued to gleam in the dark of the night.

Why does she feel like they're...looking at her?

Owlpaw took a single step back.

A trickle of fear.

"They're just lights." She said this, trying to convince herself. If…monsters did exist, this probably wasn't one of them. These were just stupid lights. They weren't even doing…anything…

The lights shined…

What was…

Owlpaw fled.

----

A patrol is immediately made to search for Owlpaw.

(Riversnow, warrior, female, 68 moons. Adventurous.) (Hopechase, warrior, female, 101 moons. Playful.) (Riftgorse, warrior, male, 17 moons. Charismatic.) (Tree, warrior, non-binary, 50 moons. Adventurous.)

---

Owlpaw had been gone for thirty minutes, as per Daffodilpaw. That wasn't very long. There was still a chance.

ForestClan made a desperate patrol to search for Owlpaw. Redstar knew they were on a time limit. The night was dangerous. Should she risk her clanmate's lives to try and save just one cat? Her clanmates decided for her. Riversnow insisted she had to go, and no one would deny her. In a rush, Hopechase, Tree, Riversnow and Riftgorse started tracking Owlpaw's scent.

Luckily, Owlpaw's presence was not difficult to trace - her scent practically radiated on the trail.

"She must've been thrashing her tail a lot," Riftgorse commented. The patrol was tense - safe for Riversnow, who plowed ahead, powered by adrenaline.

"Owlpaw? Owlpaw!" she yowled.

"Careful," Tree suppressed a growl. Riversnow whipped around, bristling.

"Careful of what?" she hissed.

"It won't help Owlpaw if we're detected by giant spiders on the way," Tree stated flatly.

This did not help. Riftgorse winced as Riversnow called again, "OWLPAW! GET BACK HERE NOW! PLEASE!"

Hopechase said nothing, focused on the task. There was a solemnity that loomed over the dark cat's back. She padded quickly along the scent trail, finding that it stopped near a birch tree. She tasted the air and placed her paw on the tree, finding that a strip of its bark was cut.

"She passed through here," Hopechase said as she went through the parted grasses.

"Watch your surroundings," Tree commented. Hopechase felt Tree was saying this more for themselves than for her.

Before any of them could register what was happening, the undergrowth thrashed in the distance. Something was charging through the bushes. Hopechase bristled and -

Owlpaw barreled into Riftgorse, faceplanting to the ground with a terrified screech. Riftgorse screamed as he scrambled back to his feet, Tree hissed and Riversnow exploded.

"OWLPAW! Oh, stars above - "

Owlpaw's grey eyes were filled with otherworldly terror, tears streaming down her face as she could barely blubber anything out of her mouth. 

"T-T-The lights - they're - they're after me, the light - "

Riversnow bristled to the size of a porcupine, her voice filled with pain and relief as she towered over her daughter and snarled. "How dare you! How dare you do this to me, to your sister, you could've died!"

"M-Mom -"

"This is the single stupidest thing you've ever done in your entire life, and you've done a lot of stupid, horrible things!"

Owlpaw trembled, her gaze darting everywhere until she stared up at her mother, tail tucked and shrinking. "T-The lights - "

"Enough!" Riversnow hissed, bending down and scruffing Owlpaw like a kit again, practically dragging her on the floor. Owlpaw's eyes were wide, and this time she pleaded and yowled like a kit.

"Mom, mom, NO! The lights! They're following me!"

"Lights?" Riftgorse chimes in, bristling.

Tree's mind worked quickly, staring out beyond the territory. Their ears swiveled. "Luring Lights. She must've seen the field near the Twolegplace."

"NO! It was a monster, a m-monster with a light on - " Owlpaw barely wrenched herself from Riversnow's grasp before Riversnow snarled in frustration.

"Luring Lights do NOT MOVE, Owlpaw!" Riversnow hissed.

Hopechase paused.

A thought came to her. She froze. All relief, all hope, all feeling washed away from her body. She refused to look at the rest of her clanmates, focused on the treeline.

"Owlpaw. Are you sure you saw a light moving towards you?"

The entire patrol stopped and stared. Hopechase's voice had shifted to a tone they've never heard coming from her. Owlpaw didn't notice, blurting out in desperation.

"YES! T-The light was its face!"

Hopechase's blue eyes widened. The air around them turned cold. Quietly, with the fear and dread of a thousand generations of cats, she whispered, "Gardener."

"...What?" Riftgorse whispered.

Suddenly, from the woods, there was a thud. A crashing of branches. The crickets stopped singing.

Then, a hollow groan broke through the trees, echoing against the pines.

AND FROM THE DARKNESS, THERE WAS LIGHT.

"Gardener. Run. RUN!"

Hopechase screeched, bolting up the trail. The patrol sprinted after her, adrenaline and horror spiking through them. Hopechase howled a warning call far before camp could ever hear them. "GARDENER! GARDENER!"

Light scattered between the shadows of evergreens, illuminating patches of undergrowth like an alien star. The spotlight shifted rapidly, threatening to cast itself on the cats sprinting below. A frayed, electric noise pulsed from its head. Leaves were crushed beneath branch-like feet as it trampled down the path like a Twoleg monster.

"GARDENER! HIDE, HIDE, HIDE! NOW!" Hopechase's voice screeched like claws on metal. "GARDENER!"

Owlpaw hyperventilated as she charged forward. Riftgorse, Tree and Riversnow were bristling from head to toe. The camp walls came in the distance.

"GARDENER! GARDENER! NO TIME, NO TIME!"

Hopechase found a reserve of energy and dashed far forward ahead of everyone. The Clan must've heard the senior warrior's screaming, as everyone had already herded themselves into Redstar's den; Perchwatcher, Brakenfreckle and Olive all carried one of the three kits, and Shiverstep's shape slunk by Windfur's side. Redstar and Cloudthunder were straggling behind, preparing to close the gate once the patrol came in.

"FORGET THE GATE! GO!" Hopechase screamed as she barreled through.

Hopechase had suddenly become ForestClan's leader; Redstar and Cloudthunder scrambled down and headed to the den. Redstar had never heard Hopechase this frightened. "Hopechase, what - "

Hopechase pulled something that hid beside the High Rock - a plank of bound twigs that made a large, square door.

"Go, go!" she yowled as she shoved Redstar.

Owlpaw, Riversnow, Tree and Riftgorse dived through the gate and up to the den.

The second Redstar and Cloudthunder entered, Hopechase sealed the entrance with the plank. It barely covered it in its entirety. The plank's age showed; scattered with cracks and insect-forged holes.

"Hopechase?" Redstar started.

Owlpaw whined. Daffodilpaw wailed with relief at her sister's presence.

"What's going on?" Blackkit squealed from behind Brackenfreckle, panting with fear.

"Quiet." Hopechase hissed, abruptly silencing every cat huddled within. The whole Clan's eyes landed on the senior warrior, and watched as her claws sank into the floor, her eyes filled with dread. Redstar stared at her friend intensely.

"Hope…"

"Be quiet. Do not move." Her voice trembled. "No matter what happens, do not leave this den."

Owlpaw and Daffodilpaw buried themselves into each other's pelts with eyes squeezed shut. Owlpaw pressed her paws down on her muzzle, trying to silence her rapid breathing. Riversnow stood over her children protectively, glaring at the shoddy plank door. Barleywave padded in front, placing himself between the door and his family. His hazel eyes were glazed with distant terror.

Another thundering step.

Nectarkit squeaked. Shadekit swatted at her, and she flattened and covered her mouth.

A loud, reverberating groan.

Iciclepool pressed against Shiverstep, copper eyes glaring. Shiverstep's gaze fell on Tree, as though they held answers.

Redstar's pelt bristled as she heard part of the camp wall collapsing. The groan transformed into a high-pitched, electric whine. Yellow light leaked through the plank's cracks in scattered rays.

ForestClan recoiled further into the den. The kits made suppressed cries. No one tried to silence them.

The Gardener's light did not move. Redstar stared at it. Waiting. Bracing.

A low hum came from it. It tore its gaze from the leader's den, scanning its surroundings. A fragile hope rippled through the cats huddling in the dark. If it didn't see them, if it didn't know they were here…

Redstar heard stomping like a moose' hooves around the campsite. The shadows of spider-like legs were cast on the door as it caught the Gardener's light.

Redstar didn't know how long she and her Clan hid. Fear-scents exploded whenever the light glanced over their bunker's door. Every few minutes, it seemed like the Gardener stepped on another part of their camp. Destroyed another den.

Redstar felt her claws sink into the ground. She fought the rage building in her bones, soaking through her skin. This thing was defiling their home.

She heard stories. She had never seen a Gardener in her life. She was afraid and vengeful. She wanted to do something.

Maybe…maybe she could distract it. She could dash out, make it chase her out of camp. The idea lit a fire in her heart. Yes. Yes, that was a good plan. She could dash quickly, cause noise, leap over the camp walls, and pull its attention away…

She turned her head to Iciclepool and Hopechase.

Iciclepool saw the look in her eyes. She shook her head quickly and mouthed 'no', pleading. Redstar felt the corners of her mouth curl to a silent snarl.

The two bristled as Hopechase planted unsheathed claws on Redstar's shoulder. She vehemently, slowly, shook her head, her eyes reflecting a will that rivalled StarClan's endless sky. Redstar tried to pull away. Hopechase only dug them deeper, and for a split second, the ForestClan leader saw a quiet, unforgiving anger in the molly's eyes.

Redstar briefly remembered the cat that agreed to assassinate Lakestar. And reluctantly, she sheathed her claws and flattened her fur.

Time marched at a turtle's pace. Perhaps purposefully. The Gardener was pacing around them. Finally, the sound of massive steps marched past the leader's den - above and over the camp walls behind them. Darkness reclaimed the night.

And yet, Hopechase whispered, "It's not gone. Quiet."

They obeyed.

The tension was thick. Cats that usually argued, huddled closer. No one took their eyes off the plank.

Finally, after a time that felt like eons, Shiverstep trembled.

She felt dazed. Weak. Her greencough made it difficult for her to focus. She could feel it again. A force, piercing the back of her head forcefully, without want, without care. She tried to resist it - but it was too fast, and overwhelmed her. Her skin crawled like insects and she felt her eyes locked on the flimsy door. Her mouth opened. She whispered gently, coldly, like a taken life.

A long pause. A few cats turned to stare at Shiverstep.

Knock, knock, knock.

Heads whipped to the entrance, mouths agape in silent screams.

Knock….knock.

It moved higher above, on the hollow stump itself. The tapping had no rhythm. It was like a kit batting at a dead mouse to see if it would move again.

Knock, knocknocknocknocknock.

Sound wrapped itself at all sides. ForestClan pulled themselves off from the walls, the kits suppressed their mews, merging in the center. Redstar stared at the ceiling above as dirt loosened -

Knock. KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK -

"Adam Levitch. Answered the door. Barry Johnson. Answered the door. Truman Michaels. Answered the door," Shiverstep rattled irrationally.

"Do not leave the den. Do not leave the den," Hopechase hissed under gritted teeth, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes.

"Bethany Newman. Alec Davidson. Dorothy Bates. Vessels. It asked to enter."

A loud shift from above -

"Do not answer the knocking at the door."

CRACK!

An otherworldly cry emitted from over the den. Legs thrashed on the camp ground and the spotlight waved around frantically. The monstrous thing screeched before the sound of its steps grew further and further away, until the flicker of light dimmed and vanished altogether.

The darkness of the night blanketed upon them once more.

The stunned silence eventually broke with the song of a whip-poor-will, and the return of gentle crickets. Hopechase seemed surprised, which did not comfort Redstar.

"Hopechase?"

"...I...I think it's gone."

A collective breath was released. The kits began wailing. Cats collapsed on their bellies, panting. Shiverstep was...

Oh StarClan, was she unconscious?

"Windfur?" Iciclepool called nervously, her paws already feeling around her daughter's ears. Windfur bristled, wordlessly checking her pulse.

"Alive," he meowed.

Redstar suppressed a growl. She had to make sure. She had to...Redstar swallowed, then slowly placed a trembling paw on the makeshift door.

Hold it together. Breathe.

Redstar inhaled through her nose. Then pushed it a crack and stared outside. She glanced around camp and felt her heart sinking deeply into her chest. From the darkness, she could make out the gaps in the camp walls, and the indents in the warriors' den. She swallowed, suddenly understanding why Hopechase screamed at them not to bother with the gate.

She had heard of Gardeners before. But Redstar lived on this earth for almost seven years now, and had never seen one. She believed her elders when they told stories about them. They lived surrounded by Fake Beings and Infected Predators, and balls of light hovering over open Woodcrawler dens. Reports of a towering Woodcrawler with a light for a face was not farfetched in the slightest. But it had been so long since one was last seen that she...

Redstar swallowed as she realized that the procedure to deal with them had fallen away in the chaos. She knew the lockdown procedure. The Clan knew it. But in the panic of it all, it escaped her grasp. Knowledge that was fleeting beyond theory and rote memorization. That weakness - fear that overwhelmed her reason...

Redstar pushed open the door.

Slowly, cats tiptoed to stare out at the camp. Moans of pain and meows of worry rippled as they surveyed the damage around them - west wall collapsed, warrior's den caved in, gate pulleys ripped apart on one side. There were multiple holes scattered across camp, undoubtedly the Gardener's pointed appendages having left them behind. It wasn't completely clear what the full extent of the damage was, but a fire and some torches would need to be lit to see what was wrong.

Hopechase stared at the rest of the camp walls, collecting her thoughts. "...It's in better shape than I expected."

"Hey, Redstar?"

Redstar turned to the voice that called her, and was surprised to see Tree sitting close to where the previous cooking fire was stationed. Redstar winced as she saw their drying rack had been destroyed, but something told her that Tree wasn't addressing her about it. She cautiously approached the cat.

"I think I found what chased it off," Tree meowed.

Redstar's tail twitched, remembering the noise that seemed to frighten the Gardener. "...What is it?"

Tree stepped aside, gesturing with their tail the remains of their cooking fire.

...The fire. They were so alarmed they forgot to extinguish the cinders.

Something akin to a sharp stone was embedded into the middle of it. Redstar brought her muzzle as close as she dared. Her nose wrinkled. She recoiled. Ears twitching, she asked, "What is that?"

The remains of stringy, red roots wilted around the hot cinders. They smelled like acid and rotten flesh. Chunks of flimsy, bark-like skin were charring around it. Tree met Redstar's gaze solemnly.

"I don't know for sure. But if that...thing, whatever it was, was related to Woodcrawlers..." Tree pointed a claw at the faint tooth-like shape of the indented object. "...Then this might be its foot. It stopped paying attention to where it was stepping when it..." Tree swallowed, opting not to finish. They put their paw down, eyes narrowed. "...Luck. Sheer, complete luck that this was still here. And that there was enough heat in those cinders to ignite its tendons."

For the first time in a long, long time, Redstar felt numb.

How fragile they really, truly were.

As the sounds of crying kits and distressed clanmates echoed all around her in the middle of the night, as she replayed the memory of the Gardener tapping at her den as though it could chase them out, she realized that she couldn't keep pretending to the kits that Deep Root entities were just dangerous animals. Her ears folded back. She closed her eyes.

Tonight, she needed to make sure her clanmates slept. Or at least tried to. Any kind of discipline or conversation would be lost on the stress of the evening. Shiverstep especially needed to be looked over - her behavior tonight was...abnormal. But that was a conversation for when she was conscious.

Tomorrow, ForestClan would talk. And rebuild.

---

1 gif was made using a clip from Remy Abode’s “Gemini Home Entertainment”, episode titled “CAMP INFORMATIONAL VIDEO”. SOURCE: (X)