Havenpaw returned it with a purr of her own. A paw gently touched her flank. "Oh, right. Sorry!" She called out of the den. To Rainspore she mewed, "Tempestpelt's here to see you," and turned to leave so the medicine cat could enter.

At the sound of his name the marbled tom dozing at Rainspore's belly flicked his ears up and started scrambling over her. "Tempestpelt!"

The medicine cat bent to rub his cheek against Rindlekit. "Have you been behaving for Rainspore?" he asked.

"Yuh-huh!"

Rainspore's two kits rushed forward to greet Tempestpelt. They mewed excitedly about their morning—Archkit saw a bug!—while Rainspore ate.

"Can we go outside?" Burdockkit begged, eyes huge and pleading.

Before either cat could answer Archkit and Rindlekit charged past Tempestpelt. "Wait for me!" Burdockkit called, swiftly catching up to her denmates on three legs.

"It's cold!" Archkit yowled.

Tempestpelt and Rainspore watched the three kits tussle and chase one another, an eye on the sky for any hawks. Skystripe padded over to join them.

"Race you to the fresh-kill pile!" Burdockkit challenged.

"No fair!"

"Wait up!"

Rindlekit changed his mind halfway there and ducked behind one of the stones that marked out the dens. Ears twitching and pelt quivering, he sneaked closer to the entrance. Craning his head to make sure no one was looking he took a few cautious steps inside.

Pumastar nosed him out. "Close. I was still in here."

"Aw! It all smells like you." Rindlekit complained.

"There's a difference between fresh and stale scents," Pumastar guided the kit back towards the camp. "Come on, I'll show you all."

The kits crowded around Pumastar, weaving between his legs until Rainspore called them back to the nursery. "I don't want a nap!" Burdockkit stamped her paws.

"If you're cranky it means you're tired and need one," Rainspore reasoned.

"No!"

Tempestpelt ushered Rindlekit into the nursery and sat beside Pumastar. "Thanks for being a good sport with them."

"I've missed kits in the camp," Pumastar admitted. "I cherish you, and the others, but it's…different."

"I know what you mean," Tempestpelt agreed. He ignored the flush of warmth that came from Pumastar's statement.

Tempestpelt turned to comfort the kit, and found Webshade already grooming her soothingly. "I'll find the biggest, plumpest mouse for you when I go hunting."

"Just for me?"

"Just for you."

At least we found one kit. Tempestpelt slipped into the cool of his den. As much care and attention as Havenkit needed, she was alive.

He sighed when he was faced once more with an empty herb store. If Shadepaw were here…. Grief for his apprentice choked him. She'd been so bright: eyes twinkling with mischief and off on her own adventures as soon as his back was turned.

Pawsteps sounded outside his den. "Tempestpelt…."

He turned and saw Pumastar, the young leader's tail dripping blood.

"What happened?" he demanded, sharper than he meant to.

Pumastar lay down where Tempestpelt indicated. "Well, good news. Some of SoftClan made it."

~

Dashpaw took another step, and the grass rustled. Again. His claws dug into the ground as he hissed. Foxdung! They'd been out here all day and he still couldn't get it!

Behind him, he heard Skystripe sigh. "It's all right, Dashpaw. We're all getting used to it. Let's head back to camp for now."

They had to walk slowly since Skystripe still limped. Before the fire, the clan lived among the scrub that used to grow on the other side of the river. The long grasses of their new territory made noise every time a cat brushed up against them.

"It means we'll hear intruders, right?" Webshade had asked fearfully when they found their new camp.

At this rate, they'd hear every cat within the borders.

By the time they reached camp, the first warriors of StarClan twinkled in the sky. Dashpaw gazed up at them. Is Agaverain up there? he wondered, not for the first time. Agaverain had been his mentor before the fire.

Their new leader, Pumastar, sat outside the medicine den. His tail was wrapped in cobwebs. "Skystripe," he beckoned.

Dashpaw took a skinny vole from the fresh-kill pile. He ate at the entrance to the apprentice den, trying very hard not to look like he was eavesdropping.

"I'm sorry."

Dashpaw swallowed too quickly, nearly coughing and giving himself away. He never heard Briarstar apologize to any cat, let alone her deputy Furzewillow.

Skystripe seemed equally puzzled. "For…?"

"I caused a problem on the border."

"There are other survivors? Who?"

"Stonewhisker of SoftClan, for one." Pumastar lifted his tail in indication. "If any another warriors made it, he didn't tell me."

"Your mentor will be Skystripe. I expect her to pass down all she knows to you."

"Havenpaw! Havenpaw!"

It was the quietest ceremony Skystripe had ever heard, with only two other cats to cheer as she and Havenpaw touched noses. At least she'd informed Dashpaw ahead of time so it wouldn't come as a surprise.

I suppose there's no big change to my duties. There were only five cats for her to deputy, and two of them stood above her in Clan leadership.

Though if Pumastar had taken Havenpaw as an apprentice, he'd finally qualify as leader.

StarClan gave him his lives, and you approved of him going. Skystripe reminded herself. That part of the warrior code simply hadn't mattered so soon after the fire.

Skystripe beckoned to Dashpaw with her tail. "Come along, you two."

"Are we going to learn to hunt? To fight?" Havenpaw asked, breathless with excitement.

"First, we're going to mark the borders. You haven't seen any of the territory since we came here, have you?"

Havenpaw's eyes rounded as she left the camp ahead of Dashpaw. "I forgot how big it is…."

"It gets even bigger," Skystripe promised. "Wait 'til you see the river."

Dashpaw padded up to walk at Skystripe's other side. "Do you think the old territory will grow back after leaf-bare?"

Skystripe's ear twitched. "It's hard to say…."

Havenpaw blinked. "Why wouldn't it? It's all grass."

Dashpaw looked very much like he was trying not to call her a beebrain. "The old territories were trees."

"O-oh," Havenpaw mewed quietly with a subdued glance at her paws.

~

Dashpaw crouched lower. The bluebird pecked harder at the frozen ground. It flitted in place and hopped around the spot it had been pecking, its back turning to Dashpaw.

In a flash he pounced, biting its neck before it could call an alarm.

He wanted to catch a mole: the strange underground creatures were tricky to catch, the perfect prey to find for his latest assessment. Looked like he'd have to content himself with birds and mice for this one.

"Well done."

Dashpaw glanced up to find Skystripe and Havenpaw watching him a part in the grass. The two mice he'd already caught lay at their paws.

"And?" he asked hopefully.

"I already told you, well done. But the sun's getting low. We should be in camp before the cold sets in."

Leaf-bare nights in the territory were freezing. Their burrow-like underground nests didn't keep the chill out as well as the woven walls and canopy of the old camp did. The sooner they were back warming their dens the more bearable sleeping would be.

"Come on, how'd I do?" Dashpaw picked up the bird and trotted after Skystripe. Havenpaw followed, the mice dangling from their tails in her mouth.

Skystripe didn't look back as she answered, "Very well, with how the cold's driven the prey underground. Havenpaw learned a lot from watching. Didn't you?"

Havenpaw made an emphatic noise of agreement.

Dashpaw hadn't been sure how to feel about another apprentice watching his assessment, especially one who'd only been an apprentice for half a moon, but as it had faded rather quickly from his mind he supposed it didn't matter. Maybe he could do the same when it came time for Havenpaw's first one.

Pumastar looked up from grooming his fur as they entered camp. Instead of asking how Dashpaw had done, or offering praise, his eyes narrowed. "Tempestpelt isn't with you?"

"He told me he'd be staying in camp today," Skystripe mewed.

"His den is empty."

Havenpelt leaned against Skystripe, her pelt bristling with fear. "He went out alone?"

Dashpaw knew she was thinking of the mysterious not-a-badger that had killed Webshade. The Clan's determination that no cat left camp alone had come about because of it. "Maybe he thought it was safe, because it's leaf-bare?" he thought out loud.

Pumastar's tail lashed. "It doesn't matter if he thought it was. Apprentices, stay here. Skystripe, you and I—"

"I'm here, Pumastar." Tempestpelt's voice sounded from the camp entrance.

Skystripe turned to face him with a scowl. "Where did—you…?"

Dashpaw and Havenpaw turned too. Dashpaw's mouth fell open. Kept tucked against Tempestpelt's warm belly wriggled a kit.

"Where did you?" Pumastar asked.

Tempestpelt stood, and at once the kit wailed from the cold. "My apologies for leaving without letting you know. I'll make sure not to do so again."

He picked up the kit by its scruff and went into his den.

~

"Tempestpelt, it's too young. It needs milk."

"He needs milk."

Skystripe sighed. "All right. The point still stands."

Tempestpelt flicked an ear. "I know. I'll…I'll think of something."

Pumastar and Skystripe looked to one another. Tempestpelt ignored them to bend down and lick the kit's ears. The kit had grown quieter overnight, seemed to grow smaller as his movements slowed. Finally, Pumastar mewed, "We don't have any queens."

"I know." He knew, he knew, he knew. "I just, I need…I need to find some herbs." He needed to leave his den, leave the camp. Needed some way for the kit to live. "Skystripe can come with me. Pumastar, can you stay with the kit?"

For a moment Pumastar looked like he wanted to respond differently, but he sighed and nodded. Tempestpelt stood from his nest. The weak kit only made the faintest sounds of protest until Pumastar curled around him.

"What are we looking for?" Skystripe asked as they left the camp.

"I'll let you know when I spot them." Skystripe murmured something in response. Tempestpelt looked over. "I didn't catch that."

"Catch what?"

"Whatever you just—"

She murmured again. But, her jaws hadn't so much as moved. Tempestpelt tilted his head. Louder. A whisper. He moved past Skystripe, following the sounds. Skystripe trailed silently behind him.

"This way."

"Needs you."

"Won't make it."

"All alone."

"Hurry."

"Shh shh shh. Hush now."

Tempestpelt rounded a stand of dried grasses and stopped so suddenly Skystripe walked into him. A long-furred, gray she-cat lay panting on the ground. Blood seeped into the dirt near her. A pair of kits still wet from birth latched to her belly.

She gaped up at him, clearly as surprised by his appearance as he hers. "Tempestpelt?"

"Rainspore!" Skystripe gasped. She ducked around Tempestpelt, careful as she touched noses with the queen. "We didn't know if any cats from your Clan had made it!"

Rainspore winced. "Some of us did. We—" she broke off with a wince.

"Come rest before you tell us," Tempestpelt gently mewed. "We'll carry your kits. Our camp isn't far."

"Lean on me while you walk," Skystripe offered.

Rainspore collapsed gratefully in the nursery. Skystripe pressed the kit she carried against her belly before turning back to the camp. As Tempestpelt did the same, he heard Skystripe call to the apprentices. "Well? Don't just stand there. She needs bedding!"

"We haven't had need of this den for a time," Tempestpelt explained apologetically. "I'll be right back, and then you can rest."

She nodded dully, and bent to lick her kits.

Tempestpelt ducked into his den.

"Who needs bedding?" Pumastar demanded, still curled around the kit.

"Rainspore. We found her giving birth. Wait until she's slept before we ask her anything." Tempestpelt picked up the kit and turned back for the nursery.

Rainspore managed to lift her head when he came back in, though it took a moment longer for her eyes to open. They widened on seeing the kit. Tempestpelt set him down. The kit barely had the energy left to move.

"We don't have any queens. Please."

"Congratulations!" Havenpaw pushed against him with a purr.

"Don't freeze!" Rainspore waved her tail cheerily before ducking into the nursery. Tempestpelt gave him a solemn nod before turning for his own den.

Skystripe padded close, resting her chin atop his head as Pumastar had done. "I knew you could do it. Remember to stay silent for your vigil." She tapped the end of her tail against his muzzle before departing.

Pumastar blinked at him warmly, and Dashlake was alone.

His paws shifted on the leaf-bare hardened ground. Silverpelt glittered brightly overhead. One thing he loved, genuinely loved despite the ache of memory, about the new camp from the moment they arrived was that StarClan was never out of sight. Their ancestors could always be seen no matter the season.

A full moon hung over the camp, lighting it as much as the noon sun. Frost glittered in a reflection of StarClan. Dashlake fluffed his fur against the wind and watched the stars turn overhead.

His jaws split in a yawn as he left camp with the morning's patrol. Their small numbers still meant he had to join instead of resting after being up all night. Pumastar glanced over his shoulder at Dashlake sympathetically. "Havenpaw, Skystripe, and I will focus on hunting. You mark the border."

"Yes, Pumastar," Dashlake yawned again. He watched his Clanmates head away. Still within shouting range, he sprayed where a clump of grass used to grow.

A cat hissed fiercely. "Where do you think you're marking, mange pelt?"

Dashlake spun around. A pair of cats glowered at him, their fur bristling. He opened his mouth to reply and caught their scent. "Are you…" he struggled a brief moment to recall where he'd smelled it before. "…SoftClan warriors?"

The one on the left, a huge muscular black and white tom snarled, "What of it?"

"None of us know how many of you—"

The lithe sandy she-cat on the right spat, "It doesn't matter! Get your paws out of our territory!"

Dashlake shuffled back a few paw steps. "I'm not on your—"

She launched at him with a ferocious yowl. Dashlake hit the ground, rolling with her attack. Fear jolted him. He'd never used any battle moves! The she-cat had used too much force, however, and rolled past him. As she leapt to her paws Skystripe streaked over the rocks and slammed into her. Skystripe raked her claws down the she-cat's shoulder and swatted her flank to send her scampering across the border.

Dashlake raised his hackles, expecting the SoftClan tom to join. By then, however, Pumastar and Havenpaw had run over. Apparently not caring for the odds, both SoftClan warriors hissed and fled back into their territory.

"Why didn't you send any cat to see where SoftClan was living?!" Dashlake snapped.

Pumastar bristled. "Have you forgotten what our first moon here was like?"

Skystripe shoved herself between them. "We know where they are now, and that we're sharing a border with them." In a calmer mew to Pumastar she added, "I'd like to discuss sending an envoy when we're back at camp."

The leader nodded. "Let's go get that rabbit we scrounged up."

Dashlake hung his head. "I'm sorry, Skystripe," he murmured.

She placed her tail across his shoulders. "It's all right, Dashlake. If you're up for it, you can join Havenpaw and I later. Looks like we'll all need to toughen our claws."

"I can't believe they were so mean!" Havenpaw complained. "We haven't seen any cats in ages! And they attacked us!"

"Rainspore's a cat," Pumastar reminded her. "So are the kits."

"They're Clan. Clan doesn't count!" Havenpaw insisted.

"Clanmates are nice," Dashlake agreed.

"And they don't stink!"

Dashlake chuckled, soothed by Havenpaw's heckling. How long had it been since he'd done the same? At a Gathering, with other apprentices, sharing purrs despite a mentor's scoldings? Havenpaw deserved to have that, too.

~

What I wouldn't give for a mediator. Tempestpelt sighed.

He'd learned to smooth minor irritants between Skystripe and Pumastar. Another Clan was a different beast entirely. Far better the duty go to Pumastar himself.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. He parted his jaws, but scented nothing.

Bad enough to be caught by a Clanmate ignoring the rule about going out alone again. Worse to be caught by the looming threat of why they didn't.

His jaws closed. Nothing. But, something glowed.

Tempestpelt followed it deeper into the territory. As he neared he peered closely. A cat waved its tail in greeting.

Who were they?

He nodded to it. It tilted its head as though in a purr, and pointed with its tail. Tempestpelt padded up beside it. A small cluster of herbs not yet killed by frost grew beneath a stone.

Tempestpelt's ears swiveled forward in amazement. He hadn't known if the herbs here grew in the early days of leaf-bare. He turned to the cat and crooked his tail in thanks. It dipped its head and stood. Flitting a short distance away, it glanced back at him. Tempestpelt followed.

Another sprouting of leaves.

This time Tempestpelt let out a long, satisfied purr. The cat continued flitting about, showing him small stalks of remaining herbs. Before he returned to camp, Tempestpelt dipped his head in respect. The cat waved its tail and disappeared like wind blowing away fog.

It takes the survivors two days to find one another: all six of them. Their territory lies in ashes and so they head east. They don't go far. A river divides where the fire swept through, and after a long day's search they find a place that's safe to cross. Exhausted, the Clan finds the first likely spot and makes it their camp. If the other Clans have survivors, they've seen and heard nothing.

More pressing, is that neither their leader nor deputy survived.

"Tempestpelt…. I don't know about this. I've never had an apprentice. How can—?"

"I'm sorry, Pumathud. Without herbs, I don't know if Skystripe will recover. And Webshade…."

"And Webshade," Pumathud sighed.

They'd crossed the river and now were walking through their old territory. Ashes of their home clung thick to their legs, weighing their paws.

"StarClan will accept you," Tempestpelt stated at length. "We have no other choice."

The StarClan cat who greeted him affirmed the same. "But Pumathud, you know already don't you? DriftClan is no more."

Pumastar woke, and hung his head.

"What happened?" Tempestpelt asked. "Surely they didn't—"

"They did. We'll discuss it as…as a Clan."

On their return, the survivors gathered together. Pumastar announced, "Our old Clan, DriftClan, is no more. We are weak, and cowed, but not defeated. We found one another despite losing everything. So we don't forget what we've lost, so all know we are survivors, from this moment forth we are BrinkClan."

BrinkClan - Moon 0

Leader: Pumastar. male, young adult, loving, good speaker

Deputy: Skystripe. female, senior adult, competitive, great teacher (Apprentice: Dashpaw)

Medicine Cat: Tempestpelt. male, adult, charismatic, fish-like swimmer

Warriors: Webshade. female, adult, insecure, good kitsitter and great hunter

Apprentices: Dashpaw. male, adolescent, vengeful, picky nest builder

Kits: Havenkit. female, kitten, self-conscious, active imagination

StarClan Guide: Shadepaw. female, adolescent, troublesome, incredible runner