#codysight writing

As he streaked across the ThunderClan camp’s clearing, old prey bones cracked beneath his pads and weeds tugged greedily at his paws, as if trying to get him to stay. The ThunderClan elder could smell the mouse that his dear friend Mousefur had wanted to retrieve, before being forced to evacuate camp. It was nearby. He took another step forward. Dust-covered prey fur brushed his paws and he mrrowed approvingly . Longtail quickly hooked the fresh-kill with a claw. Before he could turn around to head back the way he came, the sound of scrabbling, frantic paw steps thumped closer. 

“Come back! It’s not safe!” the shrill voice of an apprentice pierced the air. 

A cold nose poked his side, nudging him hurriedly, as if trying to move him along. The scent of mint and tree bark clung to the cat’s fur, Longtail could hear his clanmate shakily take a breath.

Briarpaw! 

The apprentice had followed him when he had reentered the thorn tunnel. 

Longtail opened his mouth to tell her she should go back, but a horrible creak made the words catch in his throat. The dreadful sound of roots untethering from the earth echoed across the hollow. Bits of soil drizzled down on the elder’s pelt. The air felt heavier, as if boulders were pressing down on Longtail’s lungs. Then, for a couple of heartbeats, there was an unsettling silence. Nothing. Then a groaning sound, pierced Longtail’s ears as the tree shifted. It went from low to high in a matter of seconds. The tree was sliding down towards the hollow. 

Straight towards them. 

The pitter patter of stones rained down behind Longtail, their blunt edges brushing his pelt painfully. The tree must be loosening the soil around the stone walls. It was getting closer. 

Terror for Briarpaw overwhelmed him and he dropped the mouse. Shakily, he reached out a paw and felt around. His pads brushed smooth fur, and felt the little cat’s body trembling. Longtail reared up on his hind paws, and without warning, shoved with all his might. Briarpaw gasped in surprise and her scent faded slightly as he heard her fall farther away from him. Longtail prayed to StarClan that the impact of the tree wouldn’t kill her. He couldn’t bear it if another apprentice died in front of him and he couldn’t save their life. 

The world seem to slow down. 

Despite not being able to see the tree falling, Longtail could sense it above him. There was a subtle change in the wind, and the rocks behind him had mainly stopped falling. It felt as if a dark shadow was looming over him, getting bigger by the heartbeat. 

He thought of his denmate, Mousefur. Would she be alright without him? Of course she would. She was a strong, grumpy cat. She was probably grumbling right now about how long he was taking to get the mouse. Longtail purred internally, thinking of her frowning face. Purdy will be the one to balance out her snappishness at the younger cats now, he mused. The old tabby was a fine fellow, he felt a pang of sadness at not getting the chance to spend more time with him in life. 

Firestar better give them all that they ask for, Longtail thought, though he knew the ginger tom would. He remembered when he was a spry young cat, his head was the size of a boulder and he would tease Fireheart endlessly about his kittypet roots. He wondered what his past self would react if he’d known that ‘pitiful house kitty’ he had fought would become the heroic leader of ThunderClan. Longtail felt a pang of embarrassment just thinking about his shameful bully phase. How did my clanmates stand my inflated ego? He thought, half-amused. 

Perhaps it had all stemmed from his past friends and mentors, Darkstripe and Tigerstar. Longtail had trained under Darkstripe, Tigerstar’s former apprentice. Darkstripe was known for mimicking his former mentor and cousin’s behavior. He would often quote Tigerstar’s speeches and pad after the warrior like a duckling following its mother. From a young age, Longtail’s ideas of outsiders had been shaped by Darkstripe’s training and the general consensus of ThunderClan at the time. Kittypets, rogues and other non-ThunderClan cats were to be chased off. They were not good because they were not ThunderClan. It had taken a long time for Longtail to unlearn that toxic mindset. The introduction of Firestar into ThunderClan had certainly pushed Longtail to realize he had been terribly wrong. Firestar was as brave and intelligent as any clan-born cat. So were all the other non “pure” blooded cats like Daisy, Purdy and Millie. Blood didn’t matter. Only the relationships cats had with eachother were the most valuable. 

That’s why it had felt like nettle on an open wound when Longtail’s two closest friends betrayed everyone and left him behind. Tigerstar was a cold-blooded murderer and Darkstripe was his lackey and had attempted to kill a kit for his sake. They both disgusted him. They were of pure ThunderClan blood, which they claimed made them superior, but they were the most wretched among all the clans. 

Their devious actions caused Longtail to lose his dear apprentice and countless others. 

Swiftpaw had only been trying to prove himself worthy of being a warrior, and dogs had torn him to shreds. Dogs that had been led to ThunderClan territory by Tigerstar himself. The thought of his former friend’s treachery, even now, made Longtail’s blood boil and his belly clench with fear. Were we even good friends? Didn’t they care about me? Longtail thought hazily. He thought of Darkstripe storming out of camp after his banishment, not saying a word to Longtail as the greasy tom slinked out the exit. He thought of Tigerstar glowering menacingly at him when Longtail refused to go with him into exile, flexing his massive claws. Maybe they thought of him as a friend once, but it vanished the moment they realized he wouldn’t betray, kill, or lie for them. 

But he didn’t need them. He never did. When they had left him behind, new better friends that actually cared about him had stepped in to take their place.

Firestar, Goldenflower, Mousefur, Purdy, Sootfur, and Ferncloud. 

Goldenflower and him had bonded after Tigerstar’s betrayal. He helped care for her kits until they were apprenticed, and grieved with her when her older child Swiftpaw had died. Longtail felt raw sorrow cut through him again at the thought of his late apprentice. He had been so young and so close to warrior status. He still remembered the hollowness he felt when they brought back his devastated body, and the excruciating pain in his heart when he and Goldenflower had pressed against each other’s pelts during his vigil, sobbing Swiftpaw’s name to the stars. They had been a constant in each other’s lives after that. 

When he had been blinded by the rabbit and moved to the elder’s den, she had been one of the cats present, alongside Firestar, who had weaved around him and listened when he vented out his emotions. She and Mousefur had been the ones who had pressed comfortingly beside him when ThunderClan traveled on the Great Journey, always waiting patiently when he had to take pit stops and warning him of upcoming obstacles on the path. He was grateful to have such considerate companions. He, Mousefur, and Goldenflower had been close denmates and they both grieved when Goldenflower passed. Purdy had been the latest addition to the elder’s group, and they’d grown close to the old loner as well. He felt a rush of immense fondness towards them all. 

They were real, true friends. 

He wondered if Goldenflower would greet him when he arrived to StarClan. Maybe Swiftpaw would be there too. And Sootfur. 

Longtail felt another twist of grief. He hadn’t been able to complete Sootfur’s training but had the pleasure of watching the young gray cat become a full warrior. Though, his life was tragically cut short when badgers attacked ThunderClan in the lake territories. He had been slain by horrid creatures just like Swiftpaw. But Longtail had one apprentice who was still alive and living happily. 

Ferncloud.

The gray speckled she-cat had been given to Longtail after Darkstripe had been banished, she had been an apprentice of the traitorous tom as well. It had been so soon after Swiftpaw’s death, Longtail feared he would fail her too. But she had been okay. She had grown and had kits and lived a happy life. She still stuck by Longtail and had taken her children to visit him in the elder’s den, brimming with joy. She was like a little sibling to him, the way Swiftpaw was. 

Longtail still harbored guilt about what happened to Swiftpaw, but he tried to push it away. His friends always reminded him that it wasn’t his fault, it was an unfortunate event that he had no control over. He repeated it, over and over, trying to get it stuck in his brain, though he supposed this wasn’t an appropriate time. Finally he just let it sink in and squeezed his eyes tight.

I did my best. 

Longtail’s head was swimming in memories, each one stuffed with complicated emotions. The good ones outweighed the bad though. The thoughts of Tigerclaw and Darkstripe’s bloody paws were drowned out in a sea of happy interactions with his real friends. He had lived a good life, though it was spotted with grief and regrets. He didn’t mind though, not anymore.

With a gentle smile, Longtail lifted his muzzle, drinking in the last cool breath he’d ever have. He couldn’t run or escape it now. It was too late. The thought should have been heart wrenching and terrifying, but he felt a deep calmness instead. He had chosen to come back here and do something for his friend, Mousefur. He had known the risks. 

All he could do now was hope that Briarpaw would survive. She had to. The last thoughts spinning in his mind were of him basking in the warmth of the sun outside the elder’s den, all his loved ones curled up beside him. 

I’m sorry Mousefur, I couldn’t get you the prey you wanted.

The horrible sound of branches scraping violently against the rocky walls of the hollow reached its crescendo. With a roar, the beech felt hard and fast on the two cats. For a split second, hot searing pain filled Longtail, as the impact of branches and the thick trunk crushed his fragile body. Then, there was nothing. He wasn’t conscious, but he wasn’t unconscious. There was simply a strange, peaceful nothingness, an inky blackness that wasn’t necessarily painful. It swirled around the no longer living being, wounding itself ever tight against the absence of a living life. 

Brightheart rolled up the last of the poppy seeds into the leaf wrap, patting out the plant’s wrinkles with a purr. Cinderpelt was sweeping old herb scraps out of the medicine den entrance with her tail, humming quietly. When she finished, the healer stood up and chortled happily. Cinderpelt shook out her ruffled gray fur, sending marigold scraps flying and took in an awed breath. The medicine den seemed to sparkle, every inch of it. Each surface had been carefully scrubbed and shined by meticulous paws. Stacks of fresh plants, cobwebs and moss balls were laid out on the sides of the woven den wall. They had been organized by their specific medicinal use, which made the head medicine cat very pleased. 

Cinderpelt trotted excitedly to Brightheart’s side, carefully lifting her injured back leg over some smooth beige stones they had laid out on the floor for decoration purposes.

“Thanks for helping me clean the den, Brightheart. I really needed the extra paws while Leafpaw’s away attending the half-moon meeting,” Cinderpelt meowed, beaming gratefully at her sister. 

Brightheart nodded, her good eye, brimming with affection. 

“Anytime, Cinders. If you need anything else, just ask. Don’t go overworking yourself alright?” The ginger and white she-cat flicked her tail playfully at her littermate. Cinderpelt snorted, bumping her head against her sister’s well muscled shoulder. 

“Yes Bright, I knooow. I won’t be staying up past sunset anymore, trust me. Now that Leafpaw is my apprentice, she’ll be helping out me out with my duties. I trust that little ‘paw, she’s shown herself to be very responsible so far. It’s her second moon on the job and my sleep schedule has gotten better already. You don’t have to worry about little old me.” 

Cinderpelt pressed against Brightheart’s side comfortingly, twitching her whiskers and blinking innocently at the scarred warrior. 

Brightheart raised an eyebrow. 

“Fine, fine. But I’ll be watching you.” Brightheart widened her single blue eye, her pupil rounding in fake-seriousness as she stared goofily at her sister. Cinderpelt burst into a fit of giggles.

 “Mouse-brain! How do Cloudtail and Whitepaw put up with you?” Cinderpelt huffed, no malice in her tone. 

Brightheart grinned heartily. 

“They love me, and so do you!” 

Cinderpelt sniffed in mock annoyance. 

“You’re such a tree bark-sniffing, poppy-head, you know!”

Brightheart smiled happily at her sister’s fake insult, an amused purr rumbling deep in her throat. Though Cinderpelt’s voice was pseudo-grumpy, Brightheart could sense the underlying gratitude and warmth the gray she-cat was radiating. 

Blue-silver light dappled the damp trees, making the bark glimmer coldy. Freezing rain dripped down from the branches, splashing on Mistyfoot’s muzzle as she sped through the forest. Residues of last night’s rain, Mistyfoot thought through the haze of panic that was her mind. Two of her kits, Perchkit and Pikekit, had been swept away in a flood hours ago and she still hadn’t found them. Terror gripped her every move, as she imagined what terrible things could have happened to them. 

I should have tried harder to save them, Mistyfoot bemoaned in her head but she shook her pelt furiously afterwards. Self-pity wouldn’t help her situation. She just needed to press forward and do her best to find her children. Mistyfoot’s eyes darted madly over every nook and cranny she passed. She overturned roots and dug at large dips in the muddy ground. Every squawk of a bird sent her heart racing, her mind hopefully thinking it could be a kit’s cry. 

The she-cat’s paws were stained with dirt and her blue-gray pelt ached. She passed by a puddle, then skidded backwards to wash herself for a heartbeat. As she dipped her paws into the less than pristine water, she saw her own reflection. She looked absolutely bedraggled; twigs and leaves were stuck to her fur, and mud splotches her skinny sides. She hastily licked at her paws and rubbed at her muzzle, though it did little to counteract her dreadful appearance. She stepped back wearily before continuing her search through the woods. 

She thought of her other kits, Reedkit and Primrosekit, being monitored by her clan-mates back in the make-shift camp RiverClan was staying in. The flooding had completely wrecked their home and they were struggling to get by. But she had to put that in the back of her mind right now. She had to bring her lost children back to their litter-mates. She had made Blackclaw stay with them when she had left, but she feared the black tom would go charging through the territory searching for the kits’ missing siblings. She didn’t remember why she had chosen him to sire her litter, his brain was the size of a fish scale, but at least she knew he cared about his children. 

I can’t say that about our relationship, Mistyfoot thought bitterly despite her whirling thoughts. The trout-brained tom had broken things off with her after the birth of their kits, and Mistyfoot was almost glad. He was a jerk, always growling and puffing out his chest like he was mightier than LeopardClan. He was quite fight-happy as well, though Mistyfoot begrudgingly admitted that was sort of an attractive quality. Mistyfoot sighed deeply, raindrops rolling off her drooping whiskers.

 I don’t think I could have put up with his nonsense for another moon. 

Wet grass and leaves squished beneath the RiverClan warrior’s paws. The trees were getting sparser and the scent of the river had mostly faded. Mistyfoot realized she was at the outskirts of Twolegplace. A trickle of dread ran down her spine. She thought about turning around and heading back the way she came, but a nagging feeling insisted she finish scouring every area possible. She would overturn the whole world if it meant finding her kits. Mistyfoot’s shook out her fur before padding over to the wooden barrier separating the forest and  the kittypet nests. 

Maybe a kittypet has seen them, Mistyfoot thought desperately, though she knew it was a foolish hope. She wasn’t thrilled at the thought of interviewing house cats, but she tried to put aside her clan pride for the day. 

Silently hoping a Twoleg wouldn’t see her, Mistyfoot began walking alongside the barrier, sniffing at the ground for kit-scent.  She didn’t think her babies would be able to climb the tall “fence”, as the kittypets called it. 

The scent of damp wood, Twolegs, and unfamiliar cat scent filled her nose as she pressed it along the base of the fence. As she kept walking, a strangely familiar smell hit her muzzle. It smelt of oak trees, fresh grass and dry leaves. It also had a tang of ThunderClan in it, but the scent was too washed out by rain to be able to tell which specific cat it was. Mistyfoot frowned. 

What was a ThunderClan cat doing near here? A wayward border patrol? Mistyfoot thought dryly. She wrinkled her muzzle. It didn’t matter, she didn’t feel like solving a mystery right now. She began to continue onwards before she suddenly stopped in her tracks. 

A plump brown tabby she-cat was curled up, laying on the wooden fence, her green gaze fixed on the forest view. Around her neck was a collar, confirming Mistyfoot’s thoughts about her being a kittypet. Feeling suddenly awkward, she cleared her throat and called out.

“Hey! You! Kittypet!” 

The she-cat jumped, falling slightly off the fence before scrabbling upwards again. She steadied herself on the wood before staring in Mistyfoot’s direction, wariness glinting in her green eyes. 

“Y-yes? What do you want?” The tabby meowed, clearly trying to sound stern, though her tail quivered. 

Mistyfoot suddenly remembered her disheveled appearance and almost face-pawed. She must look like a smelly fox to this well-groomed house cat. The queen

flattened her ears and crouched, trying to appear less threatening. 

“Have you seen a pair of kits run by here? They might have been lost and looking to find their way back to the forest.” 

Mistyfoot meowed, trying to infuse as much urgency as she could into her words. 

The kittypet softened, looking a little less afraid. Mistyfoot wondered why she hadn’t turned tail and ran yet. She assumed most kittypets would have ran without a second thought from a mud-covered wild cat.

The brown cat tipped her head thoughtfully. 

“No, I don’t believe I have, my apologies. I’ve been here all day and haven’t seen a thing.” 

Mistyfoot’s tail drooped. Nothing, just as she’d predicted. She opened her maw to thank the cat and be on her way,  but the she-cat spoke before her. 

“Are your, uhm, “clanmates”, looking for them? Or do you need help?” The she-cat meowed, her fear seemingly melting away, and being replaced by genuine concern. 

Mistyfoot’s head shot up.

“Yes? How do you know that term?” She answered, confused.

“Oh, my brother uses it all the time to describe the cats he’s living with.” The brown tabby answered, her eyes lighting up. She shifted her snow-white paws and tapped gently on the wood. 

Mistyfoot raised an eyebrow.

“Your brother? He’s a clan cat? What’s his name?“

“He’s called Fireheart! He’s from oh, uhm Thundercats! Wait no, it was … oh ThunderClan! He lives deep in the forest.” She pointed in the direction of the undergrowth. 

Mistyfoot blinked in surprise. Fireheart had a kittypet sister? She didn’t know why that came as a shock, the ginger tom had been born in Twolegplace after all. She wasn’t sure what to do with this mouse tail of information. 

“Do you know him? I bet he could help you, he’s very heroic and kind.” The kittypet went on, her voice warm. 

Mistyfoot almost chuckled. Fireheart? Heroic? He seemed more like a nosy troublemaker to her. He was Graystripe’s best friend, that ThunderClan tom who was secretly dating Silverstream! Fireheart also kept asking her questions about her dead father, the trout-brain. Though Mistyfoot was sure Oakheart would have a good laugh about the flame-colored tom’s antics. She angled her head towards the kittypet again. 

“Oh I know him alright. He’s from a different clan than me though. Does he visit you here?” She asked, thinking of the strange ThunderClan scent she had found before. 

“Oh yes, plenty of times!” Princess answered happily, twitching her tail. 

Mistyfoot sniffed. So that grassy scent she had smelled before was indeed Fireheart. Could the tom at least try to follow the rules? Mistyfoot felt a pang of amusement through her exhaustion. Though she wasn’t one to talk, she was keeping quiet about Silverstream’s forbidden romance and had let Fireheart talk to her on their territory without chasing him off. 

“He makes wild life sound so exciting.” The she-cat’s went on, her eyes shining.

Mistyfoot thought of the terror she had felt when her kits had been snatched from her in that wave. The river water had felt so unfamiliar and cold as she paddled, helpless to stop it. The stress of the situation made her paws feel as heavy as stone and she sat down beside the barrier, leaning back to rest on it. 

“Isn’t so exciting when it puts your kits in danger.” She growled in a low voice, suddenly feeling as if she was going to burst. She expected the kittypet to stare at her in confusion, but instead, the she-cat’s eyes rounded with sympathy. The she-cat leapt down from the fence and onto the grassy floor. She took an unsteady pace forward. 

“How did your kits get lost, if you don’t mind me asking.” The tabby murmured gently. A part of Mistyfoot’s grouchy mind wanted to tell her to mind her own business, but she sighed and gave into her more despair-ridden thoughts. 

“They were washed away by a flood in our camp.” She meowed quietly. 

The tabby gasped, putting a paw to her muzzle. 

“I’m so sorry,” She meowed, leaning in closer. 

“That must have been terrible to witness. My brother tells me dreadful things like that happen all the time in wild life.” 

Mistyfoot sighed, nodding slowly.

“I just- feel so powerless, I wasn’t able to protect my own kits. They were snatched right in front of me. What sort of mother lets that happen?” Mistyfoot mumbled, her head starting to pound. She didn’t know why she was suddenly blathering on to this random kittypet. She guessed all the thoughts she had been having all day had finally culminated and this kittypet was the only one around to hear them.

“But you tried your best didn’t you? You wanted so badly for them be safe but they slipped out of your grasp and it wasn’t your fault, I’m sure. You’re out here looking for them aren’t you? You’re trying and I can clearly see that.”

The kittypet’s firm, direct tone suprised the RiverClan she-cat. Mistyfoot twitched her ears. 

“You say that as if you know what it’s like to have a child in danger.” Mistyfoot said quietly, feeling too tired to fill her tone with annoyance. 

The kittypet frowned.

 “But I do. I gave my brother my firstborn son for him to raise in the wild. I wanted him to be a hero, just like Fireheart. Everyday of my life since then, I worry so much about his safety. I think about the frightening battles he could get hurt in, or the monstrous beasts that you sometimes face. I sometimes regret sending him to grow up in the forest, but I know my brother is taking care of him and won’t let any harm touch a hair on his pelt. There’s a whole group of cats living with them and I presume they fight for his well-being as well. I bet you’d do the same for your children. I couldn’t ever go live in the wild, so you’re tougher than I am! Here you are, you poor dear, exhausted out of your wits and still searching for your babies. That is a good mother if I’ve ever seen one.”

The kittypet’s meowing stopped, and she  stomped a paw lightly on the floor to emphasize her words.

Mistyfoot stared at her surprise. I didn’t expect words of wisdom to come from this random she-cat.

She ran over the kittypet’s speech in her mind, still feeling dazzled. I do suppose she’s right, I couldn’t have stopped the flood, no cat saw it coming. What I can do now is regain my energy then set out and try again and again. A new rush of motivation made her heart thrum. I can’t believe this shambled together pep-talk is actually helping. 

“Thanks,” Mistyfoot mewed softly, feeling very touched. “That means a lot, even if I don’t know you that well.” 

The tabby smiled sweetly.

“Then we should get acquainted, yes? I’m Princess, what’s your wild cat name?” 

Mistyfoot snorted and straightened her posture. 

Prin-cess? What a weirdly pretty name.

“Mistyfoot of RiverClan.” Mistyfoot answered, feeling her lips twitch slightly upwards. 

Princess purred. “You and my brother have such…interesting names, being two parts and all. I wonder what my son’s name will be.” 

“What’s his current name?” 

“Cloudkit.” 

Mistyfoot tipped her head, thinking of the possible suffixes. 

“Maybe Cloudfur or Cloudheart? I’m guessing he’s a white-furred kit.” 

Princess smiled again, nodding.

 “Fur and heart! Those do sound nice. Oh I do hope he becomes a strong and brave-hearted warrior. I can’t wait for my brother to take him to come visit me.” Princess sighed gently, her gaze looking wistful. 

“I’m sure he’ll do great.” Mistyfoot said encouragingly, feeling her belly begin to untwist. Her paws felt much less sore and achy, the pit stop had done her good. Droplets of water began to drizzle down on the forest once more, but this time it was gentler. It pricked at Mistyfoot’s pelt as if urging her on. 

“Guess that’s my cue, huh. I should get back to my search. Thanks for talking to me, Princess.” 

Princess purred and flicked her thick-furred tail. 

“No problem dear, I’m glad your spirits are lifted. I hope you find your kits, mother to mother.” The kittypet leaned over and touched her nose to Mistyfoot’s cheek affectionately.

“Do visit again, and tell me your brave wild cat stories!” 

Mistyfoot jerked in surprise for a second before giving an amused mrrow in response. Princess pulled back, seemingly embarrassed as she shifted her paws and grinned sheepishly. The rain dotted her brown pelt and but she barely seemed to notice. 

“Thank you.” Mistyfoot dipped her head, a wave of fondness washing over her for the first time in hours. She brushed her muzzle against the kittypet’s cheek, returning the affectionate gesture. A small purr rumbled in Princess’ throat. 

Hiding her smile, Mistyfoot turned to leave, glancing behind her at the tabby and white form. 

“See you around, Princess.” 

Princess smiled softly and waved her tail goodbye. 

Mistyfoot sped off, the wind buffeting her fur, sending the dried leaves and twigs in her pelt scattering to the breeze. A new surge of self-confidence thrummed through her, filling her heart with renewed determination and energy. 

She would do her best to find her children and not lose hope. She imagined nuzzling their fuzzy heads and bundling them in a warm nest in the nursery, all tucked up tight. They would be safe, they had to be.

The sun was sinking below the tree line, its burning glow like a fire ball in the sky. The wide blue-gray expanse gradually turned into shades of orangey-crimson and marigold-yellow, the sunlight slowly becoming dimmer and dimmer. Frostfur’s white coat was dappled by shadows cast by the nursery’s den wall, it being a bramble bush. Goldenflower and Speckletail were sound asleep in the same nest, their tawny pelts rising and falling with each breath. Lynxkit and Swiftkit were tucked in the curve of Goldenflower’s soft belly, their snores barely above a mewl. Speckletail twitched, her tail curling protectively over her daughter’s side. Frostfur supressed a hearty purr. 

Even in slumber, Speckletail was a mother hen. 

Beside the pair was Brindleface, Frostfur’s sister, presumably asleep as well, her belly swollen with unborn kittens. Frostfur looked down at her own kits, sighing. Cinderkit, Brackenkit, Brightkit and Thornkit were curled up at her stomach, their little paws poking at her fur. She loved them with all her heart, but she felt a bit irritated at being cooped up caring for them all day.  Frostfur stared at the moss ball in front of her glumly, thinking of her mate, Lionheart. He had wanted to stay in the den with her, but the area was packed enough as it was with four queens and their kits. Lionheart’s massive golden stature wouldn’t have fit comfortably in the brambles. Frostfur laid her head down and and fidgeted with her paws.  

Her pelt suddenly tingled, like ants were crawling all over it. She twitched and shifted in her nest restlessly. The urge to get up and sprint fizzed beneath her pelt, but it was sleeping time for her babies. Cinderkit squirmed beside her belly, her stubby little legs sticking out like twigs. Frostfur gently stroked her back with the tip of her tail, trying to lull her back to sleep. Cinderkit relaxed under her touch and Frostfur’s purred softly. She cared so much about her children, but she desperately needed to stretch her stiff legs. 

I’ll be back in a bit, my dears. 

Frostfur slowly began to rise from her spot, careful not to disturb her sleeping bundles. She gently adjusted her moss nest and turned towards the exit of the den. Stepping outside, the light of the moon dazzled her. The sky was now a deep purpley-blue, far away stars glittering beautifully in the darkness. The moon was shiny and full, looking like a huge, pupil-less eye in the sky. The camp was blissfully quiet, every cat sound asleep in their nests. Frostfur drank in the view, relishing the cool touch of the breeze against her hot fur. 

Frostfur paced around the outside of the den for a few minutes, letting her body go on autopilot as she thought about the various things she had planned and wanted to do. When she got tired of that, she simply sat down and stared at the night sky, wondering which stars were her lost loved ones.

She got so caught up in her star-gazing, she didn’t hear a cat come up from behind her. 

“Frostfur? You’re up late.” Brindleface’s voice made the white-furred queen jump. The pale gray she-cat padded up beside her sister, her fur glowing as she stepped out into the moonlight. Frostfur flicked her tail in acknowledgement and shifted to make room for her littermate to sit.

“I thought you were asleep! You scared me you fur-ball.” She huffed with a smile.

Brindleface chortled. “Even with my belly, I’m still the sneakiest hunter in all the clans!” She bent her legs in a crouch for a few heartbeats before laying down next to her sibling. 

“And the one with the biggest head!” Frostfur grunted jokingly, sticking out her tongue. 

Brindleface snorted. “I don’t know what you mean, my head is a perfectly adequate size.” She tossed it back dramatically and Frostfur giggled. 

“Anyways, what are you doing out here?” Brindleface asked. 

“I couldn’t sleep, I got all this pent up energy y’know.” Frostfur replied, bending down and nudging Brindleface’s shoulder with her nose affectionately. Brindleface nodded, her green eyes glimmering with understanding. 

“I get that. I’ve been staying in the nursery for only a moon and it’s driving me up the wall.” She meowed, her tail twitching. “I really feel like taking a good romp and chasing some squirrels but,” Brindleface poked her own belly with a paw. “I can’t run as fast as I could before because of them.” Frostfur mrrowed with amusement. “Their a pawful, aren’t they?” 

Brindleface nodded, screwing up her muzzle. “I’m so drained and famished all the time. And they just woke me up with their little paws kicking.” 

Frostfur brushed her muzzle against her sister’s ear in sympathy. “You just need to get through another moon of this, then they’ll be like that, but on the outside.” She teased, trying to lift her sister’s spirits. 

“Real comforting,” Brindleface said sarcastically, though her tone was lighthearted. “But I am excited. I see you with your litter all the time, I wonder what mine’s going to be like.” Brindleface mused, her voice curious. 

Frostfur smiled. “I bet they’ll all be gray little clones of you! They’ll all be named Spottykit or something.” 

Brindleface purred. “As lovely as that name is, I’ve had some other ideas actually. I’ve been thinking of the name Ashkit. It could go along with your Cinderkit! Oooh and maybe Fernkit or Tulipkit too!” Brindleface said softly, her voice brimming with excitement. 

Frostfur nodded approvingly. “I like those names, dawww, they’re adorable!” 

Brindleface’s blinked happily. 

“Ohh, what about Elderkit as a name?” The pale gray she-cat suddenly blurted out.

Frostfur blinked at her, bewildered. 

“ELDERkit? Like an old cat?” 

Brindleface frowned. “Of course not! Like the plant!”

“The plant?”

“Don’t you know it? Elder berries!”

Frostfur squinted at her. “I’ve never heard of those in my life.” Brindleface rolled her eyes playfully. “Looks like SOMEONE didn’t pay attention to Spottedleaf‘s herb knowledge speeches.” 

Frostfur grinned cheekily. “You stayed for for those? I always skipped out and told Spotted that plants weren’t my thing.” Brindleface stared at her in surprise. “I thought it was mandatory, seeing as Spottedleaf is the medicine cat and all. But you should have stayed anyways, I learned a bunch about the territory’s flora and stuff.” 

“I can see that. That’s cool, really, but… Elderkit? That’s…” Frostfur trailed off. 

“Strange?” Brindleface finished with a purr. “I like it, okay! Elderberry would be a cute full name.” Brindleface protested, jabbing the snow-white queen’s side with a paw. Frostfur tossed her head back, chuckling. 

“Okayy, Elderberry is a nice name, I admit it. Make sure to tell Bluestar that though, it would be terrible if they ended up getting named Elderpelt or something.” 

Brindleface laughed, her plump sides rising up and down. “I know, I knoww.“

Brindleface’s maw split in a yawn and she blinked, the energy from her green eyes dimming. “I’m sleepy again,” She grunted, rubbing at her face with a paw. “I’d better get back to my nest.” Frostfur stroked her sister’s side with her tail comfortingly and sighed. “I guess I should head back too. Shame though, I wanted to be out here for a while longer. I need the fresh air.” Frostfur began to get to her paws.

Brindleface tipped her head thoughtfully. 

“I can sleep with your kits for the night if you want.” 

Frostfur blinked in surprise.

“Really? That would be great!” 

Frostfur bent down and licked her sister’s ears affectionately. “Thank you.”

Brindleface beamed. “Don’t mention it, I need the practice for my own litter. If you want, I can be your go-to, for when you want to go out like this again. I’m sure Lionheart would happily curl up with them all day too. We could ask Redtail to organize a patrol to expand the den for him to fit.” 

Frostfur’s chest warmed and she bumped her head against her sister’s shoulder, gratitude sweeping over her. “Those are good ideas, I appreciate it a lot. We can talk it over more tomorrow. You’re the best, Brindle!” 

“Okay, I’ll remind you, Frost. You stay out here and relax.” Brindleface rubbed her muzzle alongside her sibling’s cheek lovingly before pulling away. 

“And of course! I’m your best and only littermate!“ The tabby boasted teasingly. 

Frostfur nipped at her ear. “Alright, go before I take it back.” She snapped, pretending to be fed up, but a purr rumbled in her throat. Brindleface grinned and slipped back into the nursery, her pelt falling into darkness. Frostfur’s heart felt full as she watched the gray queen curl around her nieces and nephews, gently wrapping her soft tail over the sleeping kittens. 

“STOP!” 

Goosefeather’s eyes shot wide open and he wheezed out a shaking breath. The other medicine cats were still sound asleep, beside him. None of them looked to be having terrible dreams, they all looked completely at ease. It was only him. The ThunderClan healer sat up, his breaths coming in short bursts. Oh StarClan, why? Why are you doing this to me, specifically? Goosefeather wailed internally, knowing he would never get a reasonable response. I can’t do anything about my visions, what’s the point of sending them to me? Old anger bubbled beneath his pelt and he felt his fur begin to rise. 

He squinted as he turned to the Moonstone, the bright light dazzling his bleary eyes. He imagined it collapsing into a pile of rubble, its glow fading and reducing the cave to pitch black darkness. Well not complete darkness, Goosefeather thought spitefully, staring up at the ceiling hole above. The stars glittered coldy in the cloudless night sky. Moonlight seeped through the opening, and down into the cramped cave. Even if the Moonstone was gone, StarClan would still find a way to slip a sign into his normal life. It had happened before. 

They would always be watching him. He could never truly run from the star’s foul, vigilant gaze. Eyes would always prick his pelt, his paw steps would always have been foretold, and every hair on his pelt wasn’t his. 

He was the heaven’s plaything. 

Goosefeather wanted to implode in frustration. He wanted to march right up to whoever ran the rat-pit that was StarClan, and demand why he had been cursed.  Why he had to live like this, drowning in visions, when every other healer only got a dose of it. 

Why me? Why me? Why me?

Goosefeather tore at the floor beneath him, but there was nothing to shred, only cold, scuffed stone. His claws scraped painfully against rock as he rapidly flailed his arms, struggling to hold back his enraged hisses. 

After he got tired of that, Goosefeather sank to the ground defeatedly. He wanted to go home and curl up in his nest, but he had to wait for his apprentice, Featherwhisker. The tom was sleeping a few tail lengths away from him, his young face peacefully still. A pang of jealousy jabbed at Goosefeather’s heart as he glared at his snoozing form. 

Why cant I be like that? Why can’t I have normal dreams? He swallowed, trying to bury the feelings of envy towards his apprentice’s good fortune. 

It’s not his fault, StarClan doesn’t hate him. 

Goosefeather let out a hoarse sigh, and buried his face into his paws. His eyes watered and hot tears rolled down his cheeks, dampening the gray fur on his face. Little gutteral animal-like noises erupted from his mouth, and he pressed his paws over it, trying to keep quiet. He sobbed into his pads, his whole face contorting into an ugly cry. Eventually, the noises died down in volume, though his throat burned painfully from the outburst. He rubbed his paws at his face, trying to wipe away the tears and snot. I’m acting like such a fussy kit! He chided himself, though he kept on whimpering. 

“Goose?” A low, confused voice sounded from his left side. Goosefeather looked up with a sniffle. 

Sagewhisker, the ShadowClan medicine cat, was sitting up in her spot, her yellow eyes blinking as she adjusted to being awake. She was Goosefeather’s romantic partner, his mate. A tiny inkling of warmth stirred inside of Goosefeather’s belly. She stood up and padded over to him, her long limbs gracefully stepping around several of her slumbering companions. Her white fur glowed under the Moonstone’s light, making her look ghostly. Goosefeather shivered and tucked his paws beneath himself, blinking away the last of his tears. 

Sagewhisker curled up next to him, reaching out a sleek white paw. 

“Oh Goose, why are you awake? Did you have more visions?” 

“Isn’t it obvious? When don’t I have more visions!” Goosefeather grunted, flicking his tail irritably. Sagewhisker was silent for a moment, her ears twitching in response to his abrasiveness. Her paw lingered uncertainly in the air. A wave of piercing shame ran through Goosefeather’s pelt. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He meowed in a quieter tone, ducking his head. “I’m not over it still.” Sagewhisker’s eyes filled with warmth. 

“You don’t have to be. I understand.” She meowed softly, placing her paw on his shoulder. 

“Do you want to tell me about it?” 

Goosefeather shifted in place for few heartbeats before nodding silently.

 “Okay.”

He inched closer to her, and leaned over to press against her pelt. She shifted her position, making it so Goosefeather could rest his head on her flank while she craned her neck to face him. Goosefeather felt immensely comforted by her presence. She was real and infallible. Sagewhisker wouldn’t harm or terrorize him. He was safe, even just for a moment. Goosefeather sucked in a laborious breath. He started telling his partner all about the wretched dream he had bore witness to. The visions of cats yet to be born. The awful noise of their stories  pounding inside his skull. The endless, dark void he thought he would never escape from. Sagewhisker listened patiently, her expression calm as he spilled out his woes.

“I don’t know why StarClan keeps sending me these awful nightmares! I can’t even do anything about it! No one will listen to me, and Cloudberry taught me to not meddle with fate! As if she knew anything about it!” Foam flecked at the corners of Goosefeather’s mouth as he ranted. Sagewhisker rasped her tongue soothingly behind his ears, nodding quietly. Goosefeather sniffled, pressing his head harder against his mate’s flank. 

“I don’t know what to do, Sagewhisker. The visions won’t stop. I can’t control them. Everywhere I turn, it’s foul omen after foul omen. I scare my clanmates. Even my own sister.” Goosefeather swallowed painfully, his eyes beginning to water once more. 

“I’m going to live like this forever.” 

Sagewhisker stopped licking the back of his ears. Her expression was steely as she looked down at him with her marigold-yellow eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, Goosefeather. You don’t deserve StarClan’s ire one bit. Whichever gaggle of spirit cats decided to give you this gift are bat-blind, and just as foolish in death as they probably were in life.” Her expression hardened with anger. 

“If they keep sending you these dreadful messages, I think you should have some sort of plan for calming down after the ordeal.“ 

Goosefeather tipped his head. “Like what?”

“Take deep, slow breaths after you see something. Don’t let it get a hold of and consume you. Another thing I’ve found that can distract you, is clawing pictures into the dirt. I know it sounds kit-like, but it’s helped me before. It takes your mind off things for a good while. Maybe chew on some honeycomb or drink moss water mixed with chamomile too, I’ve heard it’s good for unwinding. You could even ask Featherwhisker to help you get some. Or take a stroll in the forest and find it yourself. It sounds simple but, a good walk can really help clear your head.” 

Goosefeather blinked, feeling a smidge skeptical. “Are you sure those will work? I don’t know…” Goosefeather trailed off with a huff. Sagewhisker laid her tail gently on his spine. 

“Listen, why don’t you meet me at the ShadowClan border two sunrises from now? I can show you how to do all of these things. We can even test out other strategies. I know it can be daunting, believe me. I know. But it’s important to get into at least one of these habits so the stress doesn’t overwhelm you. StarClan can’t disappear, but we can find methods to help you accommodate and cope.” Sagewhisker nudged Goosefeather’s forehead with her muzzle. 

“Okay, I don’t see why not.” Goosefeather said in a gruff voice. “But you’ll help me with everything, right?” Sagewhisker nodded. “I will, I promise.” Goosefeather twitched his tail approvingly, but then he felt his face fall. 

“What about my clanmates? And my sibling, Moonflower?” Goosefeather’s voice began to tremble again. “They hate me.”

Sagewhisker’s eyes rounded. Goosefeather readied himself for more uplifting encouragement, but a snarl escaped the white she-cat’s jaws. “Then they are toad-brained crow-food eaters. How dare, they shun you without even bothering to listen to what you have to say? You’re the medicine cat for a reason! You’re a skilled healer, yet they all can’t see that past the bridge of their noses. I’m sorry about your sister, perhaps there’s still a chance to mend things with her, but the others… If they dislike you, than that’s on them. I know you, Goosefeather. Quite well. It’s a shame they don’t want to too.” 

Goosefeather felt his skin burn beneath his pelt,  jolts of surprise poking at his body. He twisted his head around to stare at Sagewhisker, who was huffing. She took a deep breath and let it out through her nose. After a minute, she looked back at Goosefeather, her shiny yellow eyes gleaming. 

“Anything you need, Goose, I’m there. I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll always be a border away.” 

“Okay.” Goosefeather mumbled, his voice trembling with barely contained emotion.  Feeling as if the metaphorical clouds had cleared, he meowed quietly. “Thanks.” 

Sagewhisker touched her pink nose to his cheek. “Anytime. I care about you, Goosefeather. A lot. I want you to remember that.”

Goosefeather’s chest warmed and he pressed his muzzle into her fur affectionately. Gratitude and love for his mate swept through his body, flooding it with the first overload of positive emotion he had felt in weeks. “I know.” A weak purr rumbled in his throat. “I do too.” 

Sagewhisker brushed her thin muzzle along the side of his face. Goosefeather closed his eyes, trying to drink in as much of the moment as he could. He was safe and happy right now. Sagewhisker, the cat whom he loved dearly, was nuzzling him fondly. 

No visions, no spirit cats, no terrible things beyond his comprehension were plaguing his mind right now. Only comfort and genuine love. The warm, fuzzy thoughts bounced around inside his brain. It would keep him occupied, but only a for bit. He knew he would spiral again soon. But the thought was slightly less terrifying. At the end of the day, he would be reassured of one fact. He would always have someone in his corner that would help and support him; Sagewhisker. 

The ThunderClan medicine cat felt himself smile as Sagewhisker rested her head overtop his.  The warm weight made him feel like a kit again, bundled up in the nursery in piles of cozy moss. Goosefeather blinked, a strange feeling of bliss overtaking his senses for a heartbeat. His eyes darted toward the Moonstone. It seemed to burn even more brightly than before, and he squinted at the harsh glare. The light was seeming to rise in brilliance, though the moonlight wasn’t increasing; the glow within the stone itself was. Goosefeather blinked. When he opened his eyes, the excess rays and shine were gone. It looked normal again.

 Goosefeather felt like he had been drenched in ice-cold water. 

He turned away and buried his face into Sagewhisker’s neck fur, making her meow softly in surprise. Joke’s on you, STARCLAN. I’m going to keep being mates with her, no matter what you say. She’s cared for me more than you fox-hearts have. We’re happy together, and you can’t change that. I won’t let you. You can send me all the omens in the world, but I won’t let you ruin this for me!

Sagewhisker’s muzzle brushed his ear. 

“Are you alright, dear?”

Goosefeather looked up at her with a crooked smile.

“I’m more than alright, Sage. Thank you.” He pressed his snout back into her moss-soft pelt, making her purr. 

ThunderClan camp was positively buzzing with activity, every cat seemed busy with something. Bluestar’s old pelt ached as she sat in the entrance of her den. She had just come back from a two hours long patrol she had undertaken, making sure the territory was secure. Rumors were circulating about the new upstart leader of ShadowClan, Brokenstar, and Bluestar wanted to personally ensure nothing was amiss. 

Bluestar watched as her reliable deputy, Redtail, organized patrols, his bushy ginger tail tap-tap tapping on the floor beside him. Mousefur and Runningwind were excitedly hauling back a hawk they had snagged during a hunting patrol. The bird’s huge wings snagged on the camp entrance for a heartbeat, before they yanked it through. Bluestar felt a rush of fondness for her former apprentice, Runningwind. She was immensely proud of him. He had grown into a respectable young warrior alongside his sister. 

The pair raced to the freshkill pile, while Longpaw grumpily trailed behind them, holding a small mouse in his jaws. Darkstripe was frowning at his apprentice’s pitiful catch, his face screwed up in a embarrassed scowl. 

Poor kit, Darkstripe can be hard on him at times, Bluestar thought sympathetically. I’m sure in a moon or two he’ll be fully ready for his warrior’s assessment. 

Across the clearing, Willowpelt was play fighting with her kitten, Graykit. The little tom was pretending to be a monstrous badger, his little paws wiggling as he clung to his mother’s back. He jabbed at her pelt with tiny claws and Willowpelt flopped to the ground dramatically, pretending to be slain by the stinky badger. Graykit mewled in delight, darting around his mother in adorable glee. Bluestar felt her heart twist painfully but she pushed it away. It had been seasons since she had played with her own kits like that. She turned her head with a sigh, trying to focus on something else.

Most of the elders were curled up in a sunny spot at the center of camp, their old pelts glimmering gold as they basked in the warm light. 

All except one.

Bluestar carefully exited from her den, the tendrils clinging to the entrance shivering as she brushed through them. Redtail didn’t notice her as she stalked towards the side of the medicine den, crouching low to the ground. She didn’t want to distract him from his duties, and she didn’t want interruptions for what she wanted to do. 

The ThunderClan leader reached the fallen tree beside the medicine den, and quietly slipped under it and into the tunnel below. Her blue-gray fur was poked by twigs jutting out on the insides of the narrow passage, but she squeezed through and popped out the other side, now in the elder’s den. It was located under a branch that was part of the tree. Thick tangles of boughs and twigs made up the den walls, making Bluestar feel very secure.

A gray tabby she-cat was lying on a moss nest in the far corner of the space, her bushy pinkish-orange tail flicking restlessly. Bluestar cleared her throat and the cat’s head shot up instantaneously. Bluestar’s heart jumped as the gray tabby she had known since kithood beamed warmly, waving her pretty tail beckoningly. 

“Why hello, Bluestar! What an unexpected surprise! What brings you to the elder’s den?”  Rosetail purred, blinking innocently. Bluestar snorted, padding over to sit down next to her old ‘friend’. I come here every day! Bluestar huffed internally, though she felt her pelt begin to warm. 

“Just checking up on how our clan’s finest are holding up.” Bluestar said in a low voice, lowering her head to look at Rosetail’s face. 

Rosetail tipped her head up and grinned.

“You know I’m the only one here, right?”Rosetail said, gesturing with a paw to the empty den. 

“I know.” Bluestar replied, her voice smooth. 

Rosetail blinked, her expression changing slightly as she took in the implications. She chuckled softly, ducking her head low. Bluestar could hear her struggling to keep a flustered purr from rattling in her throat. Bluestar smiled, feeling quite chuffed. Rosetail screwed her face up before prodding Bluestar’s chest sharply with a paw. 

“All right, don’t act so tickled. You obviously got that wit by hanging out with me all the time!” Rosetail laughed, her tone teasing. Bluestar rolled her eyes, feeling her tired muscles beginning to relax. 

“Yes, yes of course. But…don’t I have my own charm, though?” Bluestar leaned forward, getting closer. Rosetail made a half-choked cry before bopping Bluestar’s muzzle with a gray paw. 

“Blueberry, where did this newfound confidence come from?” Rosetail rumbled, her eyes glinting. “Is it because my den-mates aren’t around to hear us babble about?”

“Partially I suppose,” Bluestar meowed, flicking her ears. She liked being called ‘Blueberry’, but only by Rosetail. 

“And what’s the other reason?” Rosetail asked, tilting her head playfully. 

“I’ve had a somewhat okay day today. When I went out on patrol everything was weirdly normal.” Bluestar flexed her claws before flopping hastily onto the floor, all four paws stretched out. 

“Everything has gone smoothly, no mischief of any kind, if you can believe that.”

Rosetail purred at the unusual sight and nudged her splayed out partner. 

“That’s great! See, for every rainy day, there’s two sunny ones.” 

The elder shifted so that their pelts brushed, gray on gray fur. Bluestar purred quietly, her ears burning. She sighed peacefully, closing her eyes. “I do suppose you’re right.” 

Rosetail grinned impudently. “I always am.” Bluestar chuckled heartily, a noise she knew Rosetail enjoyed. 

“I like seeing you like this.” Rosetail murmured, stroking her thick-furred tail against Bluestar’s flank.

“What? Undignified?” Bluestar opened her eyes and mrrowed teasingly. 

“No, berry-brains! Relaxed and happy. With none of the leadership stuff weighing down on you.”

Bluestar blinked. 

“Really? But it’s my duty to be strong for ThunderClan. They need me.”

Rosetail sighed, laying down her head to rest on her paws.

“I know that! But…you need to spend more time taking care of yourself. Some days, it’s okay to kick back and relax. The clan won’t combust, and it’ll do wonders for that big blue head of yours.” 

“Big blue head?” Bluestar meowed, feeling a little offended.

Rosetail wrinkled her muzzle. 

“Okay, normal sized blue head. But you get what I’m saying don’t you? Don’t think I didn’t notice your bedraggled graying face when you walked in here. You’ve been on another two hour patrol haven’t you?”

Bluestar nodded silently. 

Rosetail squinted at her disapprovingly. 

“I told you that you should take those in shifts! You can’t walk around the territory for hours straight then expect your paws not to fall off.”

Bluestar sighed, seeing the truth in Rosetail’s words. Her pads did sting immensely from treading on leaf litter and dozen of twigs all day. 

“Okay, okay I get it now.” Bluestar meowed, blinking gratefully up at her partner. “Thanks for reminding me.” 

Rosetail smiled, satisfied. 

“Just looking out for my dear mate.” She meowed in a sweetly-teasing voice. 

Bluestar purred. “Now I’m tempted to stay in here with you a little longer.”

“Good, because I’m making you stay here until you get a proper nap!” Rosetail jabbed Bluestar’s shoulder sharply before pressing her side against Bluestar again.

 “Whatever you say,” Bluestar yawned, feeling her eyes beginning to struggle to stay open. 

Rosetail purred and stroked her spine with her tail. 

“What did I tell you about me always being right,” She meowed cheekily. 

Bluestar snorted with mock contempt, but she felt herself smiling. “As if!”

The full moon glinted above the gaps in the looming trees, casting a silvery light upon the huge crowd of cats. Spiderleg squeezed past dozens of unfamiliar pelts as he struggled to keep up with his friend group. Squirrelflight, Thornclaw and Ashfur were bouncing up ahead, chattering like songbirds, their voices brimming with excitement. This new Gathering place was still very new to them all, as were all the lake territories. Spiderleg began to shout after the trio, but suddenly, a familiar fishy scent pierced his nose. His eyes darted around rapidly, before landing on a tabby pelt he knew all too well. 

Hawkfrost! That slimy gizzard face! 

The muscular brown tabby stood by a cluster of bushes, all by his lonesome, his tail tip tapping impatiently on the floor. His white belly fur was darkened by the shadows of the thick undergrowth, and the tom’s glossy, fish fed pelt looked sleek and shiny in the moonlight. Spiderleg couldn’t help but stare, his face flushing traitorously. Then, Hawkfrost’s eyes looked over in Spiderleg’s direction, locking gazes with the ThunderClan tom. Hawkfrost’s posture straightened considerably and he raised a paw, beginning to wave excitedly.

“Spiderleg! Spiderleg! Oh, Spiderweb!” 

Spiderleg’s ear tips burned, and he hoped to StarClan no one had heard Hawkfrost use his sappy nickname. 

“Come sit by me!” Hawkfrost‘s yowl boomed across the crowd and he tapped his tail on the ground beside him. Spiderleg quickly checked his surroundings before taking a paw step. His friends had gone to sit near the gaggle of WindClan cats and none of his other clanmates seemed to be paying him any mind. 

Fine, Fine. 

Spiderleg surveyed the area one last time, before padding over to the RiverClan warrior. Hawkfrost chortled in delight and he got to his paws. Spiderleg glanced wearily behind his back once more, and Hawkfrost seemed to notice this. Turning his head, the tabby tom took a few paw steps deeper into the bushes. He gave Spiderleg a look, and flicked his tail beckoningly for him to follow. Grateful to be somewhere more private, Spiderleg quickened his pace to catch up with the tabby’s retreating form. The pair settled under the shade of a thick branch, leaves drifting in the wind overhead. Hawkfrost patted down a small patch of grass and plopped down. Spiderleg hmmphed and settled gracefully down next to his partner.   The brown tom loomed over Spiderleg’s head, making him feel short despite his lanky limbs. Hawkfrost turned to grin broadly at him. 

“Hey, Spiderleg. What brings you to this totally normal corner of the Gathering?” Hawkfrost’s silky-smooth voice purred, his ice blue eyes flicking across Spiderleg’s lithe frame. Spiderleg squirmed beneath his pelt and shot a frown at the RiverClan warrior. 

“Don’t act so coy, Hawkfrost.” Spiderleg grunted. “You asked me here, and you know the chewing out I’ll get if Squirrelflight sees me talking to you. My other clanmates will be suspicious as well.” Hawkfrost laughed softly, his dark whiskers twitching. 

“Relax, it’s a Gathering. Squirrelflight may not like me, but you can talk to whomever you please. No one will fault you if your talking to a tom from another clan right now.” 

He leaned in closer, his gaze suddenly fixed on Spiderleg’s face. Spiderleg gulped, his pelt beginning to burn.

 “I can be very charming when I want to be. I’m sure no one will have an issue with us, just talking.” His eyes shone knowingly. 

Spiderleg growled grumpily, feeling too hot beneath his fur. Hawkfrost always knew how to get him riled up. Why did I ever even start hanging out with him? No wonder Squirrelflight hates him! 

Spiderleg huffed in mock annoyance inside his mind. I guess I do have bad taste in cats, just like Shrewpaw always said. 

“Stop that, fish-brain.” Spiderleg snapped, his face warm. “It’s weird, and besides, We’re literally in a secluded sector of the island. I’m sure it’ll look totally innocent if someone finds us hidden away from everyone else.”

Hawkfrost blinked and tipped his head. 

“You could leave you know, if you really wanted to.” 

Spiderleg stiffened. 

“What do you mean?” The black and brown tom grunted, trying to infuse as much sternness as he could into his tone. 

“You didn’t have to meet me here. You could have to declined my offer. You could have stayed with your little friends and been completely non-suspicious.” 

Spiderleg felt his belly twist. 

“But you came anyways. And I appreciate that.” Hawkfrost got to his paws again and pressed against Spiderleg’s side, his brown tabby fur brushing the ThunderClan warrior. Spiderleg muffled a squeak of surprise. He shifted his face around until it was back to a hardened glare. 

“Oh really? Like I had any choice. It was either talk to you or those WindClan schmoes.” Spiderleg sniffed, twitching his thin tail. “I wish I’d picked the latter, their probably far less obnoxious.” 

Hawkfrost barked a laugh, his tabby frame shaking with amusement. Spiderleg’s insides softened and he smiled for a heartbeat, before returning to a perturbed look. 

Hawkfrost finished chuckling and wiped at his muzzle with a paw. 

“What a devious otter-heart you are, insulting the RiverClan leader’s former apprentice!” 

Spiderleg snorted. 

“Is that what you think’ll save you? Being in Leopardstar’s good graces?”

Hawkfrost nodded cheekily. 

“I was deputy once before, remember? She trusts me, she’d never think I’d-“

“-be mates with someone from a different clan.” Spiderleg finished his sentence with a sigh. “You really think that’s gonna help? We’re going against the warrior code you know. My parents always told me to never get involved in forbidden romances.”

Hawkfrost squinted at him. 

“If you really valued the code and your parents’ opinions above me, you wouldn’t be here now, would you?” 

Spiderleg clamped his jaws shut, not having a good response to that. 

“I- whatever.” Spiderleg grumbled, fidgeting his paws. A deep purr rumbled in the RiverClan tom’s throat. 

“I care about you too, you know. I love you, Spiderweb. More than any code or judgement from my peers.” 

The good ThunderClan warrior in Spiderleg wanted to make a angry remark and defend the rules he had lived by his whole life. But the sappier side of Spiderleg was in control now and he couldn’t stop a low purr from rattling in his chest. Spiderleg looked away quickly, embarrassed. The fox-heart thinks he can win me over with sweet words and a declaration of love? 

Hawkfrost chortled, pressing his muzzle to Spiderleg’s forehead gently.

Alright it’s working. 

“Fine, fine, FINE.” Spiderleg grunted, and screwed up his muzzle. 

“I love you too, Hawkfrost. Only a little bit though.”

Hawkfrost beamed happily and licked at Spiderleg’s ears. 

“A little bit is enough for me.”

Spiderleg rolled his eyes, feeling his belly beginning to untwist.

“It’s all you’re getting.” He meowed stiffly, bumping his head against the tom’s chin. 

Hawkfrost’s tail thumped against the floor cheerfully and Spiderleg batted at it with a paw. 

Then, the sound of hushed silence fell over the crowd behind the tangled brush. The leaders were starting to speak.