#coyotechaser

That hadn’t been the entirety of their conversation -- they had argued about the alliance and her position as the face of it for a while longer, eventually agreeing that she could remain ‘in charge’ so long as Scorchplume was no longer involved in negotiations -- but it was the first part of the conversation that had stuck with Goldenstar as they returned home. Even returning to see Luna and Floodstrike sleeping soundly together under the bench hadn’t distracted her for long. 

Scorch was acting distant, hanging back and avoiding eye contact and responding in polite little phrases with absolutely no vulnerability behind them. Goldenstar felt like they had somehow gone straight back to the way things had been when Scorch had first arrived and she had no idea what had caused it. Well, she could guess that Scorch’s outburst was the cause but she had no idea what the cause of the outburst was and she knew that there was absolutely no way she was going to get any straight answers with other cats around. 

They talked plans with Schmidt and Wes in Luna’s garden for a bit then headed back in the pitch black that the tiny whisker of moonlight did nothing to banish. They said goodbye to Orangestar after crossing the thunderpath and, shortly after, Goldenstar reached out to lay her tail on Scorch’s shoulder to stop her.

“Scorch, can we talk?” she asked. 

Scorch cast the briefest of glances her way and said, “Of course, Goldenstar,” with practiced carefulness. 

Floodstrike glanced between them, his big ears fwipping back against his head. “I’ll see you back at camp,” he said quickly and then resumed walking. Coyotechaser narrowed her eyes at Goldenstar for a moment before she followed after him. 

Goldenstar and Scorch stood there quietly for a few unbearable seconds until it seemed like the others were out of earshot. Scorch wouldn’t look at her and that was shredding Goldenstar’s heart into pieces.

“Scorch,” she said gently, “I’m not mad at you, okay? I’m just worried.” 

“About what?” asked Scorch with a guarded laugh. “Goldie, I’m fine.” 

“Stop that,” Goldenstar begged. “I know you’re not.” Scorch sighed harshly through her nose and rolled her eyes which made Goldenstar’s hackles rise instinctively. She pressed, “You don’t have to pretend with me, Scorch, you know that! I love you, I’m not gonna be upset if you’re struggling with something!” 

“Who says I’m struggling with something?” Scorch asked snappishly. 

“You looked like you were going to be sick!” Goldenstar protested. “You could barely speak! That’s not normal, Scorch! I just wanna help you!” 

Scorch rounded on her, making eye contact at last, and hissed, “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want your help!” Goldenstar flinched but Scorch continued, “Did you ever think of that? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe people don’t want to put up with you playing savior all of the time?!” 

Goldenstar’s throat felt like it was full of something like mud. “You’re just saying that,” she said, trying to remain kind. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Scorch laughed, her voice harsh and jagged like a wound, “I forgot that you know me so well! Silly me, I guess I’m wrong about how I feel and I should just let you tell me what to think from now on.” 

“Scorch, stop it,” Goldenstar said, firmer than before. She felt like she was going to cry. “Why are you trying to hurt me?” 

Scorch screamed through her teeth in frustration, ripping up a chunk of grass with her claws. “You stop! Stop trying to fucking diagnose me! I am so fucking sick of your radical kindness!” She was crying too, ginger tail bushed up behind her in an arc. “I was doing just fine on my own before you started trying to get into my head!” 

“Get into your-” Goldenstar was baffled, her ears briefly lifting up from their position flat against her skull. “Scorch, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking,” Scorch’s voice peaked hysterically as she started to pace, “about how you wormed your way into my head and broke me! I- I used to be able to do these things, constantly even, and now just being around Schmidt’s stupid oat and honey smell has me wanting to turn myself inside out like a fucking child!” She gasped for air, stopping to furiously paw the tears from her eyes and all Goldenstar wanted to do was wrap her up in a purring embrace even though she knew that was the last thing Scorch would want right now.

Maybe her kindness was suffocating…

“I… Scorch, I’m sorry,” she said and she meant it. “I know that’s probably really scary to-”

“You’re doing it again!” Scorch shouted. “You’re trying to figure me out like I’m a sad little puzzle! But I’m not, alright?! Stop thinking you can fix me!” Her blue eyes glistened furiously and Goldenstar couldn’t help but feel like a thousand hateful suns had been turned on her. 

“Okay,” Goldenstar said quickly, ducking as she took a submissive step backwards, “okay. I’m sorry. I’ll-” She swallowed, let out a shaky breath, and finished, “I’ll go.” Shutting her mouth would be the best thing she could do. Scorch’s breath fogged in front of her face as she stared Goldenstar down, her lip trembling. Was that regret?

No, Goldenstar stopped herself, you’re doing it again.

She turned away, tried to calm herself, and started back towards camp. She felt like all her ribs had been pushed into the flesh of her chest, like she could drown in the tide of sorrow rising behind her eyes. 

Goldenstar couldn’t help but let out a sympathetic breath through her nose. “I understand,” she said, “I really do, but this meeting took weeks to arrange. I’m only bringing warriors who I can trust to stay cool headed.” 

“You can trust me, Goldenstar,” he begged, leaning in. “Please. I need to be there.” 

Goldenstar took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes, and then let it out with a huff. “Fine. I’m trusting you.” Opening her eyes, she searched his face for his reaction.

“Thank you!” he deflated slightly with relief. “I promise you won’t regret it.” 

“Go eat a meal and tell Oddstripe to make you a portion of traveling herbs,” she said with a twitch of her ear. Floodstrike nodded dutifully and bounded off towards the healer’s den. Goldenstar sighed again. 

After a beat to collect herself, Goldenstar resumed her preparations. She stopped Russetfrond and made sure that there wasn’t anything they hadn’t already discussed that needed her attention before she left. This time he didn’t seem resistant to staying home which was a relief. She honestly couldn’t blame him. If something happened to Bluekit and Yellowkit while he was away, she knew he would never forgive himself. 

Next, she went to check on Aldertail and found her with Oddstripe making the bundles of herbs for the journey. She went over the emergency protocol with Aldertail again, making sure that she knew exactly who to go to if another attack was launched while they were away. Aldertail nodded, seeming reassured by the repetition of the plan, which had been Goldenstar’s intention.

Before she left, Oddstripe asked, “Is it true you agreed to let Floodstrike go along?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, belly clenching nervously. 

“Okay,” Oddstripe nodded and looked down. “Just make sure he comes home safe, alright?” 

“Of course,” said Goldenstar with genuine fervor. “I won’t take a single risk I don’t have to.” 

“Oh, thank you,” the healer sniffled and smiled up at her and she felt her chest tighten. She hoped she would be able to keep her promise. 

When she stepped outside, Scorchplume fell into step beside her and said, “SkyClan is here. Orangestar should be waiting for us at the thunderpath.” 

“Good,” she nodded. “Let's get everyone together and get ready to go.”

“Alright,” Scorch said without looking at her, the picture of a regal advisor. “I’ll fetch Songdust. Why don’t you grab Coyotechaser?” 

“And Floodstrike,” Goldenstar said, bracing herself. 

“What?” Scorch’s regality dissipated like someone smacking a dandelion puff. Keeping her voice low but her tone sharp, she whispered, “No. No way! Goldenstar, we talked about this, we can’t afford any rash behavior!”

“I know, I know, but he swore he would be on his best behavior,” tried Goldenstar.

“So did Fogpaw,” huffed Scorch, “that doesn’t mean she gets to tag along!” 

“We could use the extra muscle,” she argued. 

“At what cost?” Scorchplume lashed her tail, took a deep breath and said, “Look. I love you, Goldie,” (and Goldenstar puffed up with affection, much to Scorch’s annoyance) “but your judgment is impaired here! You’re too soft on him. It isn’t fun but he’s just going to have to suck it up and stay home and you’re going to have to suck it up and tell him so.” It took a good deal of effort for Goldenstar not to squirm under Scorch’s piercing scowl.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” she said firmly, “but the choice has already been made. It’s gonna look bad if I undo my decision because you told me to.” Scorchplume looked askance, ears swiveling backward. Quickly, Goldenstar added, “Besides, I’m trusting Floodstrike and I’m asking you to trust me. I don’t want to make you feel like I cornered you into going along with this or anything.” She gently laid her tail over Scorch’s, hoping that she hadn’t just accidentally threatened her kind-of-sort-of-partner.

Scorch was still for a moment, likely processing something behind her mask. Then she said, “It’s fine, you couldn’t corner me if you tried.” Goldenstar chuckled a little and wrapped her tail more tightly around Scorch’s. 

“That’s good. I promise that if he does anything out of line I’ll send him home.”

“You’d better,” Scorch said, looking up at her. “We probably won’t get a second chance at this.” 

“I know,” Goldenstar said with the appropriate solemnity. “I won’t let this opportunity slip through our claws.” 

Scorch sighed, nodded, and bumped her head against Goldenstar’s forehead. “Alright.” 

“Goldenstar!” Coyotechaser called over from where she was standing with Greyvoice and Couragecry who were scheduled to join a border patrol. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Just about!” she called back, “We’ll grab our traveling herbs and head out.” 

~~~

After meeting up with Orangestar, the group - Goldenstar, Scorchplume, Songdust, Floodstrike, and Coyotechaser - crossed the thunderpath and headed for the city. The afternoon stretched into evening and as they approached, Goldenstar watched in wonder as the city lights came to life one by one. 

“Remember,” Scorchplume told them as they walked, “When we get to the meeting, I’ll do the speaking for all of us. If you have something you want said, let me know and I’ll phrase it in a way that the city cats will respond favorably to.” 

“Right,” Coyotechaser said cautiously. 

“Also,” Goldenstar said, “As far as the city cats know, I’m the leader of all the Clans. At this point, we think it's best to leave it that way. The less they actually know about us, the better. While we’re in the city, you and Orangestar are my advisors, just like Scorchplume.” 

“I can see the reason in that,” admitted the SkyClan deputy. 

“In that case,” said Orangestar, “it might be good to avoid calling me Orangestar, just in case.” 

“That’s smart,” said Goldenstar, smiling fondly at her friend. “Guess you’ll be Orangeleaf again for a while.”

“Guess so,” laughed Orangestar bashfully. 

They padded along for a while longer before they reached the large gravel path that led into the city. Goldenstar led them along the edge of it, trying to steady her nerves. This was where things got dangerous. The plan relied on them drawing as little attention to themselves as possible and the closer they got, the more likely it was that they would be seen and possibly attacked. 

Her fears were realized when they spotted a small cluster of cats loitering across the gravel from them, just little ginger and white and grey smudges in the fading light. Coyotechaser growled a low warning to the others, tail bristling, and Goldenstar held her tail out behind her to try and settle the group.

“Easy,” she said. 

The group of cat shapes up ahead stood and started loping back to the city and Floodstrike lunged after them before Goldenstar had a chance to say anything. Quickly, Songdust hooked a paw out in front of him, tumbling him forward. He caught himself before hitting the gravel and turned back to glare at her. 

“Floodstrike!” Goldenstar hissed so that the city cats wouldn’t be able to hear. “What are you doing?” 

“They’re going to get reinforcements!” he cried indignantly. 

“Or,” Scorchplume cut in sharply, “they’re with Rudy and attacking them would have ruined the entire meeting!” Orangestar glanced from Scorch to Goldenstar with worry and Coyotechaser squinted inscrutably at Floodstrike. Songdust just looked pitying. Under all these gazes, Floodstrike’s big ears wilted behind him and he pressed his mouth into a thin line. 

“I’m sorry, Goldenstar,” he said, “I- I thought I was helping.” 

“I know,” she sighed, avoiding the pointed look that Scorch was giving her. “Let’s keep going. We don’t have time to waste out in the open.” She ducked her head and started going, knowing that a number of unpleasant conversations were going to be had eventually.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to Luna’s garden. The little lilac kittypet was waiting for them on top of the fence and smiled in greeting, ushering them over the fence with her tail. 

“Welcome! Welcome!” she purred, blushing when she made eye contact with Floodstrike. “Schmidt should be here soon, you can wait under the bench by the hydrangeas.” 

“Thank you,” Goldenstar thanked her and hopped the fence with a quick bound. 

When her paws hit the ground, Scorchplume was right behind her, saying softly, “I told you not to bring him.” 

“I know,” Goldenstar whispered back. “I’ll handle it.” 

“Good,” huffed Scorch. She led the way to the bench, which was good since Goldenstar had no idea what a bench was in the first place, and the other cats followed, clustering underneath the odd wooden structure with their backs against the wilting hydrangea blossoms. 

“You trust this Schmidt cat?” Coyotechaser asked.

“I do,” Goldenstar nodded. 

“He kept me safe while I was in the city,” said Songdust. “He’s a good cat, if a bit idealistic.” 

“That’s good,” mewed Orangestar. 

Goldenstar glanced past her to where Floodstrike was sitting, tail curled around his paws and she swallowed in shame when he met her gaze a second later. He could tell he was in trouble and they were both miserable about it. She quickly averted her gaze and tried to go over the meeting points in her mind. 

A short time later, two cats crested the fence and followed Luna over to the bench. The first cat was Schmidt, a kind smile on his face as he approached, and the second was a cat who looked exactly like him but with a slightly brighter tint to his ginger fur, much like Orangestar. The second cat followed closely behind Schmidt. His eyes wandered the yard for any sign of danger but his face bore a politely empty expression rather than a threatening or anxious one. Goldenstar stepped out from under the bench to meet them and the others followed suit.

“Evenin’, Goldenstar,” said Schimdt with a well mannered dip of the head. “This is my brother, Westen. He insisted on comin’ to watch my back.” At his introduction, Westen dipped his head in kind and briefly flashed a smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Westen,” Goldenstar said.

“Please, ma’am, call me Wes,” said Wes with a twang and a humble smile. Goldenstar couldn’t help but smile herself. 

“Of course,” she said. Then, back to Schimdt, “Is everything ready for the meeting?” 

“As ready as it’ll ever be,” Schimdt said with a nervous huff. “We’ll be meetin’ on a friend’s balcony at sundown. We prolly ought to head over there now though. Don’t wanna get caught like a squirrel in a bottle.” Goldenstar nodded instead of asking what a bottle or a balcony was. 

“Right, let’s get going then,” she said. 

Scorchplume cleared her throat, looking strained. 

Goldenstar frowned. “Right. Floodstrike, I’m going to need you to stay here.” 

“Goldenstar, please!” Floodstrike protested. “It was one mistake, I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You already promised me and you broke your promise,” Goldenstar said. “I’m sorry. Stay here with Luna. If something goes wrong we’ll have someone send you for help.” 

Floodstrike opened his mouth to protest then closed it with a soft clack. Looking down, he sighed, “Alright.” Goldenstar smiled, bittersweet. She was proud, at least, that he hadn’t tried to keep arguing.

“Alright, let’s go,” she said, and Schmidt nodded and turned to lead the way. 

On the edge of her hearing, Goldenstar caught Wes whispering to Luna, “Miss Luna, will you be alright on your own with this fella?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Wes,” Luna purred, “We get on peachy.” Then she laughed like she’d told a joke. 

This seemed enough to put Wes at ease and he said simply, “Alright then. Don’t forget to fetch your Folk if you need anythin',” before slinking back into place behind Schmidt’s right shoulder. Goldenstar chuckled a bit and hung back to speak with Floodstrike. 

“Hey,” she said softly and he looked up with big, guilty eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up so bad you forget to enjoy yourself, ‘kay?” 

“W-” Floodstrike frowned then glanced past her to Luna before blushing with understanding. “Oh. That’s- I’m not-”

“It’s alright,” Goldenstar laughed a little. “Whatever happens, it’ll be alright as long as you feel comfortable. Don’t forget to stand up for yourself.” 

“Alright,” he swallowed dryly. 

“Alright,” Goldenstar said slowly, clearly unconvinced. Scorch was too busy trying to see through the closing tunnel of her vision. She took a slow breath to try and calm herself but that only made it worse. The smell - his smell, that fucking oats and honey smell - was all encompassing and she had to fight her own body not to start hyperventilating. 

She tried to focus on her whiskers, on what they could feel was around her - Goldenstar close to her left side but not touching her - thank fuck - and empty air on her right - but she couldn’t help but panic, convinced he was about to come out of nowhere and put his fucking nose in her scruff and-

“Now we climb,” Schmidt said and Scorch blinked to find them standing at the base of a tall building with rows of balconies hanging out over a sparse, yellow lawn. Beside them stood a towering pine tree nearly as tall as the building itself. After a moment to let the Clan cats gape, Schmidt slipped into the shelter of the tree’s branches and Scorch could finally breathe.

She blinked in relief, panting gratefully as the smell of pine needles and long-passed dogs and city air. It was like a vice had released her chest. She looked down at her paws and took a deep slow breath to steady herself. 

“Miss Scorch?” a voice from just outside her whiskers made her snap to attention and she wheeled around to find Westen tilting his head worriedly at her. 

“What is it?” she snipped, regretting the hostility the moment it escaped her. 

“You just seem… unwell,” he said. “Is there anythin’ I can do for ya?” 

“I’m quite alright,” she said, straightening her posture with an exhale and trying to lay her fur flat. “Thank you, though.” 

“‘Course, ma’am,” he said in a tone that was painfully honest. “If'n you need anythin’ at all, you just let me know, alright?” 

Scorch pulled a tight smile over her lips and said, “I’ll be sure to let you know.” 

Wes smiled and dipped his head and she turned back to the pine tree. Everyone but her and Wes had already started the ascent and she almost wished she could stay here and toy with Wes for the entire evening instead of joining Schmidt on the balcony above. 

She couldn’t though. She took a deep breath, savoring the smell of it, and stepped into the pitch black space inside the pine’s heavy branches. She could taste the barest traces of that sickening smell on the air and, as she started to climb, she tried to drill her own mind into obedience. 

He’s dead. You saw him die. Stop being a stupid panicky baby already! It’s just a smell. You’re being irrational. You’re better than this! 

After some climbing, she reached a point where Songdust was waiting for her in the branches.

“They all jumped to the, uh, balcony here,” said the elder.

“Thanks,” Scorch puffed, realizing she likely would have missed it if someone hadn’t been there. She carefully ventured out onto the limb which bowed and swayed slightly under her weight. Careful pawstep after pawstep, she moved to the edge of the branch and out into the night air again. The oats and honey smell hit her and she had to sink her claws into the bark to avoid swooning straight off the branch. 

Stupid, she thought harshly and forced herself to leap the short distance from the branch to the stone of the balcony just ahead, slipping easily between the bars of the railing. Trying to breathe without tasting the scent, she surveyed the area.

It was a small space, several tail-lengths across, slightly less deep than it was wide. The concrete had been covered with a piece of spare carpeting that looked like it might have been white once. A pair of wrought iron chairs sat off to one side and a cluster of potted plants crowded the corner near the sliding glass door which had been cracked open just wide enough for a cat to pass through. 

Goldenstar, Orangestar, and Coyotechaser had settled next to the base of one chair, all looking around at what was surely a strange space to them, and Schmidt was seated neatly by the door next to a plump little black tom with white paws and flecks of blue in his dark brown eyes. A second later, Songdust and Wes joined them on the balcony, both of them lingering near the edge to keep watch.

Scorch padded over to the chairs and hopped up on top of one hoping the height advantage would not only give her a more authoritative bargaining position but possibly part the brain fog closing in around her. 

“This is amazing,” Coyotechaser said conversationally. “I had no idea twolegs built their nests on cliffs like birds.” 

“Two legs?” the new kittypet mumbled under his breath in confusion.

Schmidt said, “Oh, no, this isn’t a cliff. The Folk built this whole structure.” 

“Are you serious?” Orangestar gaped. “That’s incredible!” 

“They are, aren’t they,” purred the new cat, puffing proudly. 

Scorch was working terribly hard to stay present. Smiling, she crooned, “Schmidt, you haven’t introduced us to your little friend here.” As she had expected, Schmidt paled as if he had kicked litter directly in their faces. Served him right for smelling how he did.

“Oh, my,” he said quickly, “Please, forgive my rudeness, ladies. This is Admiral. He was kind enough to let us use his balcony for the evenin’.”

Admiral smiled a wide, toothy smile and said, “It’s my pleasure! Anything to help cats come together. Everyone is so divided these days, don’t you agree?” 

“Definitely,” she purred, fighting the urge to roll her eyes so hard they disappeared into her head. 

“Exactly,” Orangestar said sincerely. “We should be working together to defeat a common enemy, not squabbling over petty disputes.” 

“Oh,” Admiral said in a voice far too high to be genuine. “That’s… that’s certainly, um…” 

“Incoming,” Songdust interjected. She and Wes took a step back from the railing and the rest of the group held their breath. Scorch shut her eyes wishing she could will her peripheral vision back into existence. 

A beat later heavy paws hit the concrete and she was forced to open her eyes. A cinnamon tuxedo with sizable stud jowls and a splotch of ruddy fur in the middle of his white muzzle lifted his head to squint at her, showing off his mint green bell collar. Rudy had always been a stocky cat but he had put on a few impressive pounds since she had last seen him and she raised her brows back at him, hoping she was projecting an air of superiority recognizing superiority and not one of queasiness. 

Rudy broke her gaze first and said, “Schmidt.” 

“Rudy,” Schmidt smiled nervously. “Thank you for joining us.” 

A grey lynx point tom and a white splashed brown tabby tom with a notched ear quickly joined them on the balcony. The new cats shifted uneasily. They eyed Songdust and Wes with suspicion and Rudy flicked his gaze over Goldenstar and her “advisors” coldly. 

“I didn’t realize this was gonna be such a big shindig,” he said, “I woulda brought more guests.” 

It was time for Scorch to focus up. 

Glancing out over the city as an excuse to take a deep breath of fresh air, she said, “Traveling in the city is dangerous for Goldenstar and she needed to take extra precautions to ensure that she returns home safely.” Looking back at him, she added, “It was important to her to attend this meeting in person, as a show of good faith.” 

“Do you always do her talking for her?” Rudy asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Scorch smiled. “She has asked me to be her voice in this meeting seeing as I am also Exalted and thus will better be able to handle negotiations.”

“Right,” Rudy studied Goldenstar with narrowed eyes. 

“She speaks the truth,” Goldenstar said, sitting tall but relaxed. “For today, Scorch’s word is my word. Shall we get started?” If Scorch wasn’t struggling to breathe she might have grinned the proudest grin. Goldenstar was learning. Rudy stared at her for another moment before jerking his chin in Schmidt’s direction which was as good as a “yes.” 

“Wonderful,” said Admiral. “As the arbitrator of this discussion, there are a few things to go over before we begin properly. Firstly, this meeting will remain peaceful. Any fighting or even shouting will be punished by my Folk.” He twitched his tail towards the muted sound of a picture box that filtered through the open crack of the sliding door. 

“Secondly, I want everyone to enter this discussion in good faith. Let’s not lie to each other or treat the other parties as inherently untrustworthy. And thirdly, there will be no interrupting or talking over each other. If more than one person wants to speak, I will decide who gets to go first. Okay? Okay. With that all said and agreed to, I’m going to give the floor to Schmidt to start.” 

Schmidt nodded gratefully and said, “Thank you kindly, Admiral. I think everyone here appreciates brevity so I’ll get right to it. Sardine is a tyrant and he needs to go. Myself and a collection of like minded cats, both Exalted and Chaff, have been tryin’ to sort out the best way to replace him and we’ve decided you’re the most qualified cat in the city for the job. We want to back your claim for Speaker in exchange for equal representation in the leadership, meanin’ for each cat you appoint, we get to appoint one as well.” 

Rudy scoffed. “I don’t need your help, Schmidt. I’m going to be Speaker and there’s nothing Sardine can do to stop me, the coward.” At this, he turned his head to face the long drop from the balcony and disrespectfully spat. Admiral rumbled in displeasure. 

“Perhaps,” Scorch said, focusing the dark tunnel of her vision on Rudy, “but with our help you can end this succession crisis quickly and decisively. As I understand it, Sardine carries out a raid on your people at least once a week, correct?” 

“And what do you and your savages get out of it?” asked Rudy. “The firstborn kit of every litter?” The cats he had brought with him seemed to find this humorous but Admiral lashed his tail in warning.

“I’ll remind you of the second rule, Rudy,” he said, sounding to Scorch like a man who knew he was quite small and unimportant but was desperate to be respected. 

“It’s a genuine, good faith question,” Rudy said, straining believability. 

“Goldenstar and her warriors request a truce agreement,” said Scorchplume. “Within the terms of this agreement, hunting within Clan territory would cease and any acts of aggression between city cats and Clan cats would be punishable offenses on both sides. In exchange, Goldenstar would pledge combat support to the Skyraiders in any fight with Sardine’s forces and would… even be willing to share their ancestral hunting techniques with the city.” 

She swallowed and pushed through the rolling nausea in her belly, grateful that she had managed to remember everything they had discussed even in her current state. Goldenstar’s ear twitched back at Scorch with worry but she otherwise kept her composure. 

“‘Ancestral hunting techniques’,” Rudy scoffed. “You mean magic mumbo-jumbo?” 

Scorch laughed. “I assure you, I do not.” 

“We’ve already started employin’ these techniques with some of the Chaff,” said Schmidt. “They’re designed to ensure that prey lasts until next year which will help keep everyone fed. That’s important to you, isn’t it?” 

“Well, then we already have the techniques and we don’t have to pay for them,” smirked Rudy. 

Scorchplume felt the conversation slipping out of her hands and she couldn’t open her mouth for fear of being sick. 

Schmidt frowned. “It’s not just the hunting techniques-” 

“And like I already told you,” Rudy growled, “I don’t need your help with Sardine. I’m not gonna trim my own whiskers for help I don’t even need. We’re done here.” He and his friends stood up and turned away and everyone else on the balcony inhaled tensely. 

Scorch tried to think but the wind had changed and all she could smell was oats and honey and sweat and sex and him and- 

“Scorch?” Goldenstar’s voice felt distant. When had she shut her eyes? She looked up, found herself huddled on the chair, only able to peek out through one eye. “Scorch, what’s wrong?” 

Not now! she wanted to hiss, he’s getting away! 

Thankfully, Songdust stepped in between Rudy and the pine tree. Rudy growled lowly, his fur starting to bristle. 

“Out of my way,” he said, stepping aggressively forward. 

“You don’t want our help because you think you're stronger than us, right?” challenged Songdust. “Well I’d say you’re not.”

“Really?” Rudy laughed. “A skinny little thing like you thinks she can take me in a fight?” He glanced back at his companions who found the situation equally laughable. Schmidt looked as if he might faint. 

“I do,” Songdust’s lip curled for the briefest of moments, “so here’s a new idea: You and I go down to the grass and have it out. First one to pin is the victor. If I win, you accept our terms and we help you fight Sardine. You win-” 

“I win,” he interrupted, “and you return Mystique’s kits.” 

“She doesn’t want them,” Goldenstar cut in.

“I don’t care,” said Rudy, lifting his head boldly. “Those kits belong in the city, not starving in some hole in the ground like mice.” 

Scorchplume swallowed and managed to straighten her posture as she said, “Deal.” 

“What?” Orangestar’s gaze snapped to her. Coyotechaser was glaring. Goldenstar looked hurt but kept silent. 

“Great,” Rudy smiled like setting concrete. “Let’s do this.” He turned to smile at Songdust and she nodded, turning to head down the pine tree. Rudy and his gang followed. Wes gave the rest of them a quick look of unease before he went after them. 

The moment he was gone, everyone rounded on her.

“Scorchplume, why did you do that?!” Goldenstar gaped, horrified. Scorch was busy trying not to puke. 

“That wasn’t your choice to make!” hissed Coyotechaser, spine arching. 

Scorch bristled and snapped back, “Actually, I think you’ll find it was. Goldenstar is in charge and she gave me the authority to negotiate on her behalf - on the Clans’ behalf.” She leapt down from her perch on the chair and shoved her nose into Coyotechaser’s space. “If you don’t like my choices you shouldn’t have agreed to this meeting in the first place. Excuse me.” 

Moving quickly, she stormed over to the edge of the balcony and took a moment to steady herself before leaping. Her stomach flipped and she gagged hard as she nearly missed the branch in her shaky state but she managed to scramble to safety and start descending the tree. 

Immediately, the shame set in and the fear followed close behind.

Why had she done that? Now that she could breathe again, she felt intensely stupid. Why was a smell all it took to send her flying off the handle like that? What punishments had she just incurred? Goldenstar, she might be able to win back, but the other Clans? They already saw her as an insidious infiltrator, a devious manipulator trying to make a power grab. She had played directly into their expectations. How could she win them back now? 

Why was she trying? She realized, suddenly, that there was nothing holding her in this situation. She had done it all to herself. If she wanted, she could leave, run into the desert or back to the city she’d been born in. What was stopping her? 

Goldenstar. 

The thought of leaving her hurt like a rotten tooth and Scorch nearly broke down sobbing right then and there. She paused on the lowest branches of the pine tree and took slow deep breaths as she tried to blink the tears away. Get it together! she berated herself, You’re being a fucking child. What is WRONG with you?!

Outside, on the lawn, she could hear Wes talking. “I want a clean fight, you two. No blood, no outside interventions. First one to pin takes it.” 

“I still think we should use claws,” Rudy said. 

“Fine with me,” said Songdust, “just no death blows.” 

“Sure,” Rudy said, “but if you try and pull something I won’t hold back.” 

“Right back at you,” growled Songdust.

“Easy now,” Wes warned. “No one’s gonna try anythin’. Fight starts on three. One…” 

With one more slow exhale, Scorch collected herself and slank out to watch the fight. 

“Two…” Wes glanced at her as she arrived but Songdust and Rudy stayed focused on each other, their stances shifting slightly in response to the others movements. “Three!” 

The combatants collided in a hissing, spitting frenzy of claws. Somewhere inside the building, a dog started baying loudly. They traded blows back and forth, swatting the other’s paws away and then trying to get in a hit of their own, moving so fast Scorch couldn’t tell who was hurting who. 

Songdust hopped back first, bouncing lightly on her toes, a red streak in her thick, white cheek fur. Rudy let her go and dropped into a deep crouch, keeping his bulk low where it would be hard to topple him. Songdust stayed arched up high. Scorch guessed she was attempting to preserve her agility, which was her biggest advantage over him. Absently, Scorch realized that she hadn’t known those kinds of things two years ago.

Songdust was creeping sideways at a snail's pace, her face giving nothing away. Rudy watched her as if scowling hard enough would let him read her mind. Songdust feinted in then danced back, then in again, closer this time. Rudy growled and swiped a warning at her. 

“Come on, Rudy!” cheered one of his friends, “Pin ‘er already!” 

Rudy’s tail lashed back and forth. When Songdust came in again, he lunged for her with claws extended and she barely managed to lift her hind legs over his head in time, twisting around to lash at his haunches. He rolled over his shoulder and onto his back to kick at her and she went for the pin. Scorch held her breath. 

They struggled with each other in a way that was hard to see, growling, and then Rudy gave a hard kick with both legs and Songdust went flipping over him and onto her own back. He twisted to his feet and lunged but she was already rolling away and they both stopped to catch their breath. 

“You’re not bad,” Rudy panted, smiling through bloody teeth. 

“Thanks,” smirked Songdust breathily. 

At this point, Orangestar joined Scorch and Wes at the bottom of the tree, asking, “How’s it going so far?” 

“Pretty evenly back and forth,” mumbled Wes. “She’s doin’ better than I would have thought.” 

“She’s got a lot of experience,” Orangestar whispered back.

Songdust darted in again and swiped her claws over Rudy’s nose. He smacked her hard over the head and she rolled with the hit, grunting in pain. Scorch winced. Rudy pursued her, slamming his heavy paws down on her belly and she squirmed, flailing her limbs wildly to hit back at him. Wes grimaced. 

“One…” he began to count. 

Songdust cursed and curled around Rudy’s paws as they pinned her down. 

“Two…” 

At the last second, Songdust delivered a series of rabbit kicks to Rudy’s jaw that sent him reeling with a pained hiss. She whirled onto her feet as he staggered and launched herself at his head with a flying leap. She landed on his shoulders, her paws wrapped around his neck, and then pulled him close as she tumbled over him, tipping so that her momentum carried them both crashing to the ground. 

Rudy hacked roughly but Songdust kept her paws tightly around his windpipe as they wrestled on the ground. Scorch swallowed, allowing hope to lift in her stomach despite her better judgment. 

“Does that count as a pin?” Orangestar leaned forward, tail tip twitching. 

“I can’t tell,” Wes hissed under his breath. “They’re moving too much, I don’t think it counts.” 

“Come on, Rudy!” his friends cheered desperately.

The fighting cats rolled over the brittle grass in relative silence until Rudy choked out, “E-enough!” and Wes shouted, “That’s surrender! Songdust wins!” Scorch let out a shaky breath, smiling genuinely for the first time all day. 

The cats broke apart immediately and Rudy’s friends crowded close to check on him while he coughed and gasped for air, blinking as if his vision had started to go dark. He glared up at Songdust through one eye, teeth bared as he panted, but she just nodded to him.

“Good fight,” she said, the blood in her fur starting to dry and clump together. 

After a long beat, Rudy laughed. “Yeah, you too, wild cat. Where’d you learn a move like that?” 

“Mystique taught me,” said Songdust with a smug, toothy grin.

“No shit,” said Rudy. 

The pine needles rustled behind them and Goldenstar and Coyotechaser emerged looking frantic. 

“Who won?” Goldenstar asked, eyes darting from cat to cat.

“Songdust,” Orangestar said and both newcomers sighed in relief. Scorch saw Goldenstar’s eyes moving towards her next and she quickly turned away to approach Songdust before she could get caught in an unpleasant conversation. 

“Well done,” she praised, feeling put together again. “I knew you had it in you.” The lie came easily.

“Thanks, Scorchplume,” Songdust purred, casually butting their heads together. “I appreciate your confidence in me.” 

“So,” said Scorch, turning her attention on Rudy, “it seems we’ll be working together from now on.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he twitched an ear and swiped his tongue over his bloody, broken gums. “I’m a cat of my word. Don’t get too happy about it.” 

“I wouldn’t dare,” Scorch smiled. She had nearly ruined everything with that gamble. She wasn’t about to let herself relax any time soon. 

“We’ll stay in contact through Schmidt,” Goldenstar said, coming up beside her. “When you’re ready to take on Sardine, we’ll be there.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he grunted, straightening up to get some of his dignity back. 

Sagetooth seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Are you sure it’s wise to bring him along?” she groused. Floodpaw pouted further.

“It’ll be fine,” Goldenstar said tiredly. 

The last few weeks had been exhausting. She’d spent days grieving for Scorchplume, then fretting over Yarrowshade while he healed from his bruised - but thankfully not broken! - ribs. After that she’d been scrambling to keep things together. To her shock, Orangestar had come to her suggesting they turn Aldertail over to the rogues but she had abandoned the idea the moment Goldenstar had pushed back. Orangestar was scared and out of her depth, they both were, but deep down she didn’t want to send a cat to such a terrible fate, which was a relief. 

Together they had organized this meeting, even if Snowstar and Flightstar had continued to put it off for days. The entire time, Razor and his rogues had pushed the border by a tail length or so every day, working their way deeper and deeper into her territory. The longer things dragged on, the more they drained Goldenstar’s energy. Each new inconvenience or threat was like a tick and they just kept building up until she felt like she was covered in them, metaphorically speaking. 

On the other side of Floodpaw from her, Smokyrose smiled sympathetically. “He promised to be on his best behavior, didn’t you, Floodpaw?” 

“That’s right,” he said, puffing up to his full height with a bounce on his toes. “I’ll be quiet the whole time, just like I promised. Please don’t make me go kitsit with the others!” He shaped his face into a pleading expression and craned his head to look over Goldenstar’s back at Sagetooth. At eight moons old, he barely had to stretch to do it anymore and Goldenstar marveled quietly at how quickly he had grown. He was nearly taller than she was!

Sagetooth rolled her eyes and looked away. “It’s not up to me anyways,” she said, which was as good as a yes. 

“What’s wrong with kitsitting?” Smokyrose teased. “Do you not like my little girls?” 

“No, it's not that,” Floodpaw scoffed, bumping shoulders with the elder gently. “It’s just boring. I’d rather be learning! Like tonight,” he turned his eager blue gaze on Goldenstar, “I get to study diplomacy and stuff.” 

“I’m surprised you’re interested, honestly,” Goldenstar said. 

Floodpaw shrugged. “I want to know everything it takes to be a good leader, in case I get to be your deputy one day.” 

“Hmm,” Goldenstar smirked, “we’ll see…” 

The four cats made their way over the river and into the trees. As the Cornerstones came into view, Goldenstar spotted a small cluster of cats. Among them was a bright ginger shape and for a brief second she thought it might be Scorchplume but the illusion was quickly dispelled. Orangestar’s posture was far too anxious to belong to Scorch. Besides, she thought, what would she be doing here? 

Orangestar waved as they approached. Beside her was Darkmoon, the deputy, and a tortoiseshell cat it took Goldenstar a moment to recognize. 

“Poppybird,” she greeted the FallenClan mediator with surprise. “Where is Flightstar?” 

“He’s not coming, I’m afraid,” she said apologetically.

“He’s not?” Sagetooth huffed. “For what reason?”

“He said this is none of his concern,” Poppybird said. “He said I was free to come in his stead, though, so here I am.” Sagetooth sat down with a disgruntled hrmf. 

“Well, thank you for coming,” said Smokyrose. “Maybe you can help him understand the gravity of the situation after tonight.” 

“StarClan willing,” Poppybird smiled and it was clear she was struggling not to speak ill of her leader. Goldenstar returned her pained smile and settled down next to Orangestar. 

“I hope you all don’t mind if my apprentice sits in on the meeting. I’m hoping it will be a good learning experience.” 

“Of course not,” Orangestar said, tail twitching anxiously. Goldenstar let her tail fall over top of Orangestar’s and the younger leader gave a breathy laugh and nodded in thanks. Goldenstar nodded back. She was grateful she was able to be there for the cats around her when they needed her.

She wished she had been able to be there for Scorch when she had the chance…

“Greetings, friends!” Snowstar’s voice rang loudly through the clearing, jostling Goldenstar from her thoughts. The white furred leader, Coyotechaser, and the SkyClan mediator, Heatherfuzz, strolled into the clearing and joined the other cats at the base of the Cornerstones. 

“No Flightstar?” Coyotechaser asked. 

“He declined the invitation last minute,” Poppybird explained. 

“That’s too bad,” said Heatherfuzz, folding his tail over his paws. 

“Yes, a real shame,” said Snowstar a little too loudly. Floodpaw in particular grimaced and pressed his ears back against his head. Goldenstar surreptitiously looked at Sagetooth who cast her a sideways glance and swiped a paw over one ear before focusing back on the meeting ahead of her. So her suspicion was correct then. It seemed Snowstar’s hearing was finally starting to go. 

“We should get started,” she said, changing the subject. “Razor’s band only get bolder by the day. Something needs to be done.” 

“Agreed,” said Orangestar, trying to sound firm. “Every day we have less and less prey to share.” 

Darkmoon nodded. “Either they don’t know how to preserve next year's hunt or they don’t care. I’d wager the latter.” 

“Both can be true at once,” Sagetooth said. “They know nothing of our ways and they don’t care to learn. They need to be stopped.” Turning her gaze to Snowstar, she said, “We would handle them ourselves if we could but, as you know, the Red Gut cut all of our Clans down to a dangerous size.” 

“We need your help,” Smokyrose said, glancing from Snowstar to Poppybird. “Both of you. This is a threat to all of the Clans, not just RisingClan.” 

“I know,” Snowstar started loudly, although she paused when Coyotechaser brushed her tail against her side and then started again at a more reasonable volume. “I know, but, from what you’ve described before, there are enough rogues to outnumber all of the Clans several times over. Maybe we should start considering alternatives.” 

“Alternatives?” Darkmoon glared. “Like what?” 

“Well, for starters,” said Snowstar, “maybe you both could start searching for new territories.” 

“What?” Floodpaw blurted but shrank when Sagetooth shot him a withering stare. Still, Goldenstar was with her apprentice on this.

“What do you mean, ‘search for new territories’?” she asked stubbornly. “Are we supposed to go off on our own? Cut ourselves off from StarClan and our ancestral homeland?” 

Heatherfuzz shifted forward with a kind smile on his face. “There are hunting grounds over the mountains,” he said, “and a lake. They might be a good place to settle down, away from this Razor and his rogues. We would even be willing to help facilitate travel through the mountains.”

“Isn’t that lake swimming with twolegs?” Sagetooth snapped. “If I remember correctly, You have a kittypet warrior now who used to live there.” 

“They’re only busy in greenleaf,” Coyotechaser said, “A seasonal challenge, like foxes and ticks.” 

“That’s missing the point,” Smokyrose said gently, no doubt trying to make up for Sagetooth’s brusqueness. “From what we understand, Razor is looking for a psychological victory as well as a physical one. He’s trying to prove that he can push us around, that he’s better than us. If we leave for the mountains that will only encourage him and next thing you know he’ll be encroaching into your territory as well.” 

“That’s a bit of a slippery slope,” Poppybird said, “don’t you think?” 

“Then we’re standing on the precipice of a slippery slope!” cried Sagetooth. “Stars above! Where are your spines?! Are you not warriors?” 

“Sagetooth…” Smokyrose warned carefully. 

“What?” Sagetooth’s hackles bristled. “Am I supposed to just sit by while these mouse-hearts hand our ancestral territory over to a bunch of faithless kittypets?!”

“Let’s all take a deep breath,” said Goldenstar. “Shouting isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Sagetooth huffed through her nose and turned her furrowed brows skyward. Thankful that the healer had listened, Goldenstar continued. “She’s right, though. This is what warriors do. Orangestar and I are going to have to fight back at some point. We need your help to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.” 

She searched the faces of the cats in front of her. Poppybird studied the frozen ground at her paws with a troubled expression. Snowstar had tilted her head back to look down her nose at her as she considered the argument. Coyotechaser’s head was tilted to the side in an expression that said, ‘she’s not wrong.’ Heatherfuzz was still offering a sympathetic smile. Orangestar’s tail began to fidget again. Fat, wet snowflakes started to fall from the sky, resting on the cats’ pelts as they sat in silence.

Coyotechaser leaned in to whisper in Snowstar’s ear and Goldenstar overheard the words “StarClan” and “not unreasonable”. 

Eventually, Snowstar nodded and said, “Alright. You make a good point. But I hope you can understand my hesitance. This is a big, dangerous thing you’re asking, and my Clan is just as weakened as yours.” 

“That’s why we have to work together,” Smokyrose said. “United we are stronger.”

“Yes, yes,” Snowstar sighed. “I just wish there were better prospects before us. I don’t want to rush into a battle we can’t win.” 

Just then, Sagetooth gasped sharply through her teeth. Everyone looked to see her sitting completely rigid, staring up at the sky with a heavy snowflake perched upon her nose and a distant look in her eyes. Goldenstar’s pelt prickled as the energy in the clearing changed. Those who had seen this sight before could recognize it anywhere - a prophecy!

After a long second, Sagetooth let out the breath and slumped her shoulders, head bowing. She panted for a moment before looking up at Snowstar with a grin. 

“Ask and ye shall receive,” she said, the snowflake still sitting on her greying muzzle. “In nine days, a storm will come and the rogues’ defenses will fall. That is when we strike.” Floodpaw opened his mouth then bit down on his lip to keep it shut. 

“Nine days?” Poppybird asked, “It was that precise?” 

Sagetooth flicked one ear and said, “There were no words but I saw a sudden vision of the moon being blotted out by snow, then a raptor crushed a snake’s head in its beak. I know the phases of the moon and that one should arrive in nine days, maybe ten.” Floodpaw was starting to vibrate in his efforts to contain himself. 

Goldenstar smiled. “Nine days then,” she said. “Can we count on you to be there?” 

“Yes,” Snowstar said and Coyotechaser once again had to correct her volume. “I’ll bring my warriors to your camp before nightfall.” 

“What about FallenClan?” Smokyrose asked. “Do you think the prophecy could convince Fallenstar to join us?” 

“I would like to think so,” Poppybird said. “StarClan’s will is clear. I will see what I can do.” 

“Thank you,” sighed Smokyrose in relief. 

“What do we do until then?” asked Orangestar. “My warriors are already struggling to eat. Even if we drive them back, that won’t return the prey they’ve stolen.” 

Snowstar hummed thoughtfully. “SkyClan can offer some of its prey to strengthen its allies. EarthClan and RisingClan are welcome to fish in our river until this threat is sufficiently dealt with on the condition that they preserve next year’s hunt.” 

“Of course,” Goldenstar agreed. “We’ll take only what the river is willing to part with.” 

Orangestar sounded on the verge of tears. “Thank you so much, Snowstar.” 

“It is the least I can do,” Snowstar said graciously and Goldenstar had to agree but she wasn’t about to overlook the gift they were already being given.

“We’ll see you in nine days,” she said, rising to her feet. “Until then.”

“May StarClan light your path,” Poppybird said, doing the same.

“And may we fight with the strength of LionClan!” boomed Snowstar. Everyone winced. 

“Indeed!” Smokyrose managed to cheer a bit. 

Snowstar nodded and turned to leave with her Clanmates in tow. Poppybird dipped her head to the others and slipped around the Cornerstones to return to her own territory. Orangestar turned to Goldenstar and smiled, sniffing back tears.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said. “I couldn’t have done this on my own.”

“You could have,” Darkmoon shook his head.

“Agreed,” said Goldenstar, “but I’m glad we did this together. We need to look out for each other more than ever right now.” 

“We’ll see you in nine days,” said Orangestar. “Good luck.” 

“You too,” said Goldenstar, and both groups headed in their separate directions. 

Before they had even left the clearing, Floodpaw practically exploded with questions. “What was that? You had a vision? Like from StarClan?” Goldenstar chuckled and wrapped her tail over his haunches as they walked.

“Yes,” Sagetooth said wearily. It seemed the vision had taken a lot out of her. “When they need to, they send us warnings about the future.” 

“How did you know what it meant? Can anyone see a prophecy or is it just cats like you and Papa?” 

“Anyone can,” Sagetooth hummed, “but usually leaders or healers are the ones to interpret them. It's a skill you can learn to cultivate, although some cats have a gift.” 

“So there’s gonna be a big battle?” Floodpaw turned his excited gaze to his mentor. “Can I go?!” He bounced eagerly, jostling up against her.

“Easy,” she laughed. “We’ll have to see. Russetfrond and I will probably hold an assessment before the battle to see if you three are up for it.” 

“Okay,” Floodpaw seemed a bit disappointed but wasn’t phased for long. “I’m sure we’ll ace it, no problem. Well… Maybe not Barleypaw.” He frowned as if irritated with his sister and Goldenstar laughed again. 

“She probably won’t want to go anyway,” Smokyrose said. 

“Yeah,” Floodpaw shrugged. “That’s fine. More fighting for me.” 

“That’s not how that works, kid,” Goldenstar rolled her eyes. 

“Whatever,” he laughed, bumping into her on purpose this time. She glared playfully and gave him a rough shove back, causing him to tumble onto his side with a squawk, flailing his gangly limbs. 

Goldenstar smiled but the smile quickly faded. This battle was no laughing matter. Fighting Razor’s rogues was going to be dangerous and that was before you factored in a heavy snow storm. She would have to talk with Sagetooth about the best ways to prevent injured warriors from also contracting frostbite, send extra patrols looking for horsetail and cobwebs, oversee extra training for the apprentice and maybe even some of the warriors. She would have to coordinate the attack with the other Clans and hope that Fallenstar didn’t try to pick a fight, if he even came at all. 

It was going to be a lot to handle but she was determined to do it. This was what Sunstar had trained her for. This was her destiny.